Fall has finally arrived and I am embracing the last few weeks and days of sunshine and relatively warm weather. I am battling my first cold of the season which at this point is just really obnoxious - it's not as if I don't have other things going on in my body right now... :) Well, as I sit outside on my patio basking up the few hints of fall sunshine I thought I should catch all of you up on the craziness of last week:
I think it might have been the most exhausting week I have had since I had an official plan of action. In my last post I told you about the port surgery I was having to help with my chemo infusions. To help organize my thoughts that are now getting a bit scattered due to the revered "chemo brain" I am going to separate everything for your reading pleasure.
Port Surgery
On Monday, Sept. 28, M, B and I packed up very early, thermos of coffee in hand and headed over to the the East Newton campus to check-in to Medical Short Stay. Judging by the almost two hour wait and the crowded waiting rooms, the 28th was a very popular day for surgery! At the one hour mark, I got up to ask the woman at the registration desk what the status was and to see if I was going to be admitted soon.
About five minutes after I asked Registration Lady my status she called my name to head back to Medical Short Stay. "Finally!" I thought to myself, so B, M and I gathered our things and headed back. Much to my dismay, she was only trying to move me to another waiting room which was approximately the size of a shoebox with 15 coughing, sneezing and generally ill looking patients. To her shock, I refused to go into the room and as I looked at her and said "I'm a Cancer patient, I can't go in there with that many people..." she huffed, rolled her eyes, mumbled something under her breath and reluctantly walked us back to the main waiting room. Apparently she interpreted my inquiry as "Hmmm, this patient seems anxious to get going, maybe I'll move her to another waiting room" when in reality all I wanted to know what how much longer she thought it would be.
So the waiting continued, B eventually left for work, and then finally I was taken back - for real this time. I must admit it was like a homecoming reunion as I entered Medical Short Stay as all the nurses that took care of me during my first needle biopsy on day 2 were there again. I entered with lots of hugs, "how are yous" and "you look greats" which always helps boost the spirits especially when you have no hair and you are about to go into surgery.
Once I was finally all prepped and ready, I was pleased to hear that the surgery room was ready for me so I was going to go straight in. At 9 a.m. they took me in to my room in the radiology area and began the pre-surgery rigamarole. My doctor came in, talked to me about all of the very scary and "rare" things that could happen to me during the procedure like air bubbles forming in my chest and other super exciting things. I proceeded to tell my surgeon and the entire room that my plans for wearing a strapless wedding gown and my general affinity for summer dresses better not be affected by this procedure. We wanted minimal scarring and a very small incision. This news obviously fell on deaf ears and blank faces. The best that they could muster was "we'll do what we can" - I guess that's all I can ask for. Once I had officially flustered them with what I assume they thought was inane news, the real surgery preparation began...
As I laid very still on the operating table staring at the ceiling, my surgery nurse began to administer the drugs that they claimed were "conscious sedation" - I beg to differ. Simultaneously, I was prepped for surgery which involved six minutes of very thorough scrubbing with a brush and soap, subsequently being swabbed with another form of alcohol cleaner, they covered me with a very large surgery drape (it wasn't until they had already temporarily covered my face did they ask if I was claustrophobic) and then began ultrasounding the veins and arteries on the right side of my chest. While it is kind of cool to experience the whole pre-surgery preparation, I couldn't help my feel like an outsider looking in on something I wasn't privy to.
While this whole process was taking place the medications they were giving me began to kick in - THEN the surgery began and I felt like I was going through bone marrow all over again. The doctor began with five or six shots into my muscle around the placement location which hurt so badly. Shortly after the area became numb and I thought I was in the home stretch - I would close my eyes, wake up a bit later and it would be complete.
This notion was a bit misguided. My idea of conscious sedation was obviously a bit different than what it actually was: I expected the "out-cold" idea of anesthesia except being able to respond if need be. In actuality it was more like I was aware of each push and pull that was going on on the other side of the drape.
So the remaining surgery time proceeded as follows: I laid there with my head to the left, periodically asked for more drugs and they pushed, pulled, probed and threaded the port into my chest. At one point, which looking back on it is kind of cool, I felt this weird tingling sensation go up my neck and it turns out that that was the moment when they put the tube of the port up into my neck.
Finally around 10:30 a.m. I returned back to Medical Short Stay to recover and after a few hours I was released to go home. The pain of the procedure didn't really begin to set in until late in the afternoon on Monday and into Tuesday where the bruising, itching and throbbing continued.
Chemo
Chemo on Tuesday was really brutal compared to the other treatments - I can only hope that treatment four is better. The day just started off really crappy - like a typical girl I couldn't figure out what I was going to wear, the only weird thing about it was I couldn't figure out what head scarf I wanted! I must admit, having to get dressed in the "perfect" outfit and
then match a scarf and tie it comfortably on my now bald head can be such a pain. After three scarf tries I went to my new favorite, a beautiful and cheery pink Hermes... it is like the perfect LBD of the Cancer world.
Finally M and B dragged me out of the house, of course behind schedule, to head over to the clinic. Like every visit, it started with a weigh in, which is certainly my favorite thing to do in the morning. After being confronted with the insult of both pounds and kilograms I rounded the corner hoping for my perfect window seat and it was taken! I was so distraught and B and M couldn't help but chuckle at my exasperation.
Adding insult to my supposed injury, Nurse N took a look at my port surgery and the lovely folks in radiology put the steristrips right on top of the actual port so we were unable to use it for my infusions! Luckily I still had a good vein left in my right arm to take my treatment but the medicines really reacted aversely with my body. My D drug, which typically can be infused in an hour, took 2.5 hours and burned my arm every second of every milliliter. Fortunately B and I brought season one of Mad Men, so the dashing Don Draper kept my mind off of everything for a little while. At about hour three, I became so anxious and frustrated with how long it was taking but after much coaxing, B convinced me to rest my very blurry, bleary and tired eyes.
Once I was done, we went home where I took a nap which is was I did most of last week. Energy was very low and bone pain was very high.
All in all, the week really took its toll but this weekend is going to be really fun as quite a few of my best friends from college are coming into town. It will be a great high before another week of treatment - nothing can be better than some old fashioned fun.
Love you all,
xoxo
T
