I went for my first chemotherapy treatment on Friday the
Thirteenth. Dave dropped me at the doors since it was very close to my
appointment time and he told me he would meet me upstairs. When I arrived, I
was introduced to my nurse, Walt Whitman. Walt showed me around chemotherapy. First
he had me put my purse and jacket on the chair I would be in for my treatment,
then he showed me each treatment room, and where the kitchen and bathroom were.
When we came back to my chair he showed me the IV pump I would be hooked up to
and told me this was my new dance partner. He said I could unplug it and take
it with me if I wanted to go to the kitchen or washroom. He left to get some
information to give me, so I decided I should go to the washroom before I was
hooked up to the IV.
When I was in the washroom, I heard a loud beeping noise
start. I thought to myself “That sounds like a fire alarm.” When I came out,
Dave was in the hall. Just as he saw me,
a nurse told him the fire alarm was going off and he would have to leave and told
me I needed to go to my chair. I went and sat down and waited with my other
roommates. There were two other women besides myself, one my age and one older.
And I am sad to say that my 3rd roommate was a teenage boy. Damn
cancer! These treatment rooms should only have older people in them, not kids. It is things
like this that keep me from feeling sorry for myself.
The nurses walked around and counted everyone to make sure
we were all there. The older lady remarked that she has been coming here for 10
years and this is the first time the fire alarm has gone off. After several
minutes, the alarm stopped and the people who came with us were allowed back
in. Walt came over and said that the alarm going off must have been something for
my first day. The teenager piped up, “and this is my first week!” I wondered
what kind of treatment would bring him here more than once in the same week.
Walt explained each of the meds I would be given and how they
would affect me. He told me in 8 to 15 days after treatment my white blood
count would go down and that I was to avoid any infections. I should wash my
hands a lot and avoid crowds and people who are sick. He told me that since my
body will not be able to show me some signs of infection such as redness or
pus, the only way I will know if I have an infection is if I have a fever. I would need to take my temperature often and
if it gets to 38 C then I am to go directly to emergency. Walt told me that my
platelets would decrease and my blood’s ability to clot with be hampered. I am
to avoid cuts, bruises, and burns and I must not blow my nose too hard, I need to
use a very soft toothbrush, and I am to not take aspirin or ibuprofen. Walt also
told me that I needed to drink lots and lots of water and urinate often in the
next few days. He told me I needed to flush the drugs from my system as quickly
as possible and that I should even get up a couple times in the night to do so.
Walt looked at my port incision and said it looked really
good for being done 5 days earlier. The woman who was my age said that her port
incision was still bleeding after 5 days and that she was badly scarred. She
said my doctor had done a good job. Walt asked who did my port and I told him
Dr. J. Walt said he has known him for years and said he was brilliant. I told
him what had happened to my friend and how her lung was nicked. I told him how
I had questioned Dr. J about it. Walt seemed amused that I had questioned the
doctor and said things like that don’t happen often and he was very sorry it
had happened to my friend. With that, Walt cleaned my port area. I asked if
there would be a local freezing and he said no. He told me not to worry as he
has done this many times. I braced myself… for nothing. Seriously, it was a
slight pinch and that was it! At that moment I thought, this port is the cat’s
ass! I am so glad I opted for it.
Walt first started me on saline and then put up a bag of
Kytril, an anti-nausea. He told me that Kytril was the Big Kahuna of
antiemetics and he was glad Dr. Bob had prescribed it to me. Next were the chemo meds, two were pushed into
my IV by Walt using big syringes and the 3rd was hung up. Walt
showed me each medication before it was given to me and I had to confirm that
my name and birth date werecorrect on every single one. Walt pointed to the giant syringes of red
liquid and told me that Epirubicin is called the red devil by his patients. It
is a red devil alright. It gave me a bit of a start when I went to the
washroom. For a second, I thought I was peeing blood until I remembered what I
was told by the very first nurse when I went for my consultation. She told me Epirubicin
would colour my urine for a few days after it was given to me. I thought it
would take some time to work its way through but it shows in your urine immediately.
After about 3 hours, I was all done for 3 weeks. I was feeling
good, except for a head cold which seem to come on during treatment. I had been
feeling a little stuffed up in the couple days prior and the chemo meds seemed
to bring more symptoms forward. I told Dave I wanted to go to Costco to pick up
my prescriptions and get some shopping done, in case I was too sick for the
next while. I wandered around Costco for about 2 hours feeling light-headed,
but nothing more. On the way home, I had a sudden bout of anxiety for about 5
minutes. It was odd, because I was feeling totally relaxed and there was
nothing troubling me. When I got home I just felt like I had a bad cold.
The next day I felt fine and the cold seemed to be going
away. In fact I felt so good that I forgot to take the 3 Kytril pills I was
given. I was supposed to take them every 12 hours. I missed Friday evening so I
took one at 6 am on Saturday. I felt good all day and again forgot about the pill
in the evening. Sunday morning I felt even better and continued to forget. I
had coffee, hung out for a bit, and then decided to take a shower. I was feeling kind of hungry, but put off
eating. That was a mistake. All of a sudden I had a bad headache, felt really
hungry, but kind of nauseous at the same time. Dave called the oncologist on
call and she said to take the Kytril now and take the next one in 12 hours. I
took it, had something to eat, and then slept that afternoon and evening. I
pretty much slept all day Monday and by Tuesday I was feeling much better, just
a little tired.
I found that I couldn’t let myself get hungry or I get a
headache and a hunger induced rage (Sorry Dave!) after a few days, the hunger
rage started to go away and then I got heartburn
real bad. Pretty much anything would give me heartburn about 30 seconds after I
started eating. I didn’t care, I ate anyway and then snacked on Gaviscon for
dessert. I am glad to say that so far my sense of taste has stayed and food
doesn’t taste like sawdust or musty as some people have told me has happened to
them. Last night I noticed the top of my
scalp felt a little tender. After noticing that, the scalp at the back of my
head felt a little tingly. Not sure if it is real or if my imagination getting
the better of me. We are about to embark
on the family dinners and I am afraid to wash my hair in case I wash it right
off of my head. I can’t have that crisis and go to a family dinner. Even though
I have been mentally preparing myself for months for my hair falling out, I
know it is not going to be a good day when it happens. I sure hope that it’s not today.
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