My chemo schedule is every second Tuesday. I require blood work prior, to make sure that I'm not getting too sick. So on the Friday before my third chemo I went to get this chore over with. However I was informed by the lab staff that I was way too early. It seems that they prefer a 72 hour window, and felt that my results would be invalid at this point. With nothing else to do I left. Monday I was back again, waiting my turn and fulfilling my obligation as well as a couple of test tubes of my blood. If there were any concerns with the results of these tests, I'd find out tomorrow, the morning of next chemo.
Tuesday morning Sept. 29th and my morning routine starts. Pills, for the arthritis. Pills, for the allergies. Pills, for the chemo. Breakfast is a whole bunch of Fibre1 cereal and fruits. Washed down with glasses of water. Before I leave the house, one more pill -to keep me calm and help me manage my emotions during this treatment. Arriving at the Cancer Centre I walk up the the stairs to the chemotherapy lounge. Despite the brace on my right knee, I walk better up stairs than on level ground. I let the staff at the chemo suite know I've arrived. A band with my patient ID and other information is loosely wrapped around my wrist. Back to the lounge for more waiting. Eventually my name is called, and I hobble as best as I can to the room where I'll spend the next few hours getting chemically whacked.. My nurse confirms my name and date of birth as I'm being brought into the suite, and I'm assigned to a chair.
The Lorezapam must be working, I feel pretty calm as my nurse preps my IVPort for the start of treatment. As part of my usual preparation I've shaved a substantial amount of chest hair around the IV port area. The area is swabbed with what I assume is a disinfectant. The moment of truth begins with a brief pinprick, and session number three begins. More pills, I'm given three Decadron to help control any nausea symptoms. That and a shot later that morning to make sure I don't suffer a repeat of my first chemo.
I always feel fine the first hour or so. I get comfortable, set up my laptop go online and send a few emails. Lately I've taken to playing 5 minute online chess games with people around the world. My game sucks, but it helps pass the time. My energy and concentration are dropping the longer the session runs. It's now noon and what I call "chemo lethargy" is setting in. There's no desire for me to do anything but close my eyes at this point. Yet there is a nice surprise for me this time: one of my pharmacy friends stops by to see how I'm doing. Thoughtful as always, she has a nice card with words of courage within. She and I have had similar experiences, and while our paths diverge, it's always comforting to share with someone else who's gone through this experience. The words are not hollow sentiment, but a source of strength.
Shortly after 2PM my session is finished. I leave with my 5FU pump attached and carrying an extra roll of tape -my nurse was concerned that enough chest hair was being covered. I'm too tired to care, I just want to go home
First day with the 5FU pump is not too bad, I eat when I feel hungry, but have to force myself to drink liquids. Water doesn't seem as refreshing and never quenches my thirst during this time. This week I'm trying various juice boxes to introduce some variety. Apple juice tastes funny, but it's still better than the Banana Strawberry concoction, too sweet for my taste. In general during chemo I prefer the tart or acidic foods, something soft to munch versus crunchy. A noticeable side effect that continues even when the pump is removed are that my gums are very tender. Even my ultrasoft toothbrush, gingerly applied, leaves me spitting blood into the sink. So my new trick is to first rinse the brush in hot water, making it softer and pliable. This help. I sporadically gargle that old standby: saltwater and baking soda, although my dental hygienist wonders at how effective that is. I should inquire with my dentist for chemo-safe mouthwashes, as the typical over-the-counter mouthwashes and rinses are contra-indicated. I don't experience any nausea, but my stomach feels unsettled, a nervousness that's not placated by eating or drinking. I chalk this up to the 5FU side effect.
Fortunately no other major side effects seem to pop up this round. My goal now is to endure the next 46 hours until the pump is removed, and see how quickly I recover. I do confess that my recovery is longer than it once was. Back in 2010 I could almost guarantee being 'my old self' with 24 hours of the pump removal. However it's five years on, and my other physical ailments -the arthritis and knee problems, seem to conspire in keeping my physical activity to a minimum. This time I seem to have managed the side effects better, even with limited exercise -too cold this time to go bike riding, but next week promises to be the best that Fall can offer. For now I endure.
And the first night home with the pump I find I can't fall asleep at night. When I first arrived at home I took a nap, I was tired. Rested on the couch all day. Then when it's time for bed 11PM turns into 1AM, and then turns into 5AM. I still can't sleep. I resolve to take a sleeping pill if this happens again.
I basically drift through my second 5FU pump day, playing bad online chess, trying to read up on my electronics hobby. Things that used to hold my attention seem to require far more cerebral effort than I can muster. There's a lot of channel flipping, fortunately, there's a whack of DVD and YouTube entertainment. But I really don't want to be a couch potato, I want to do something. Later that night around 11PM I take my sleeping pill. We'll see how well I sleep tonight.
Third day of the chemo regimen, and I've noticed I slept for approximately 6 hours. While not refreshed as I had hoped, it was uninterrupted sleep. And today I have a scheduled disconnect time of 11AM, the earlier the better in my opinion. Aside from the sleep, this chemo has been calm, no serious side effects save the difficulty sleeping. The ResoroLax and Fibre1 are doing what they need to do, and as I would find out, it would keep working for several days after I stopped taking the RestoroLax. Something to keep in mind if you are planning to go out.
I get my 5FU pump removed by the CCAC nurses, who are trained in the art of Chemo-Fu. This explains their ninja-like appearance when they remove the pump: mask, goggles, double gloves, and the gown. I get a piece of paper strategically placed under the port so drops can't splash on my bare skin. And as always, the CCAC nurses have to gingerly remove the miles of tape that keeps the pump attached to my chest via those few remaining bits of chest hair. I should be used to having it ripped off by now, but it still hurts. I'm such a wimp.
Pump free before noon, and I am hungry. We go to Arby's and I'm craving a Beef 'n Cheddar with curly fries. Probably not the most nutritious meal for a colon cancer patient, but I want to satisfy the cravings. Takes two Beef 'n Cheddars for that, and that's about 1.5 of a B&C too much. Through the days of the pump it's fibre this, and fibre that. Sometimes I just want to satisfy the cravings, feel like my old self, forget that I have cancer.
The weather is getting marginally better through the week, and my non-chemo days looks promising. I'm able to get out of the house, enjoy the things like sipping my coffee by the river, going for short bike rides, and of course, visiting more doctors.
My recovery week has two appointments with my Oncologists. One is with the Radiation guy, the other with the Chemo guy. Both are located in the same facility, and both have me scheduled on different day. The chemo guys is first, and he's basically saying that if the CT shows the chemo is working, I can get more chemo. Yay. Perhaps I can arrange a break so it's not every two weeks. The most important part of the conversation was that it's my quality of life, my choice of what and when to take treatment. We don't discuss time lines, as it's futile to think about it at this stage.
My radiation guy was next. Essentially he's satisfied that the treatment to control the metastasis in my left leg worked -I'm not experiencing horrible leg pain and no fractures. If the CT I'm going to have in a few months shows anything else, I'm sure I'll hear about it. In the meantime he's discharging me, leaving my primary care with the chemo doc. One less doctor works for me. They all treat me pretty well, but I'd rather have one point of contact for my treatment.
It takes me several days to recover, careful of what I eat, as the RestorOLax seems to be working overtime. I'm not drinking enough water these days. I find that I don't have the energy or stamina for many activities, and some cramping whenever I eat. Those effects take days to go away. Gradually things begin to taste as they should. I still sleep no more than 4 or five hours, but at last I can rest. Perhaps it's the Avastin's workings, as I seem to bleed easier. The sink is bloody when I brush. Sneezing often produces bloody tissues.
Despite these annoyances I survive, I try to do more than endure. And in two weeks, I'll do this again.
No comments:
Post a Comment