Yesterday’s port insertion was pretty uneventful for the most part. I was feeling some mild discomfort, but not a lot of pain. The worst part was that the anesthesia left me feeling really nauseated, whish I thought was extremely unfair on the last day before my chemo.
Last night was really long. I spent the evening on the couch, trying to watch some TV, reading, and eating an occasional saltine in lieu of dinner. I finally went to bed around 10:30. Although I went right to sleep, I woke up every hour or two. Then every time I’d wake up I’d begin to worry about how I was going to be able to keep any food down for the next few weeks if I can’t even handle the nausea following a simple surgery procedure. And what if I lose too much weight?
I got up around 7:30, did a little bit of work, ate breakfast, gathered some things together, and left for the oncologist’s office around 9:00. When I arrived, they set me up in a lounge chair, drew some blood from my port, then hooked up some normal saline (so far, so good). After awhile, the nurse came over with a bag of fluid that she said was my pre-medication. It was a mixture of an anti-nausea medication and a steroid (still no need to panic). But eventually, that medication ran out and she hung the first of two chemotherapy drugs.
Watching what you know is poison drip into your veins is a pretty scary experience, but since without it I have no hope for a cure, I tried not to think about it too much.
While waiting for the medication bags to empty, I tried to do a little bit of work, but it’s really hard to keep my mind still long enough to concentrate these days. This place is also pretty busy today, which made it even more difficult. I finally gave up on the article I was working on and decided to do some blog posts since they don’t require as much concentration.
I hadn’t yet heard back from the radiation oncologist about my radiation therapy, which is supposed to start on Monday, so I called his office. I scheduled an appointment for 2:00 on Friday to have my markers done, which are used to target the radiation to a specific area.
As of now, I’ve been siting in this lounge chair for around 6 hours. Looking at the amount of fluid that’s left in my bags, I’m guessing I’ve got at least a couple more to go. I come back tomorrow and Friday for more chemo, but I only need one of the drugs and it doesn’t require as much additional fluid, so those two days should be shorter. Then I come back on Saturday for a shot. I think the shot has something to do with boosting my immune system, but I’ll ask again later.
I don’t feel too bad yet. The nurse told me I probably wouldn’t start feeling the side effects of today’s drugs until tomorrow and I should take an anti-nausea pill before bed and another when I get up in the morning. I’m thinking I’ll take one every 8 hours whether I need one or not.
you got this girl….you can kick it’s BUTT!!
Somehow I missed that this was starting today. When you think of the poison going in, think of it as cancer poison.
One day down. Check it off your list. You’re one day closer to feeling good again.
Just got back from my follow up (EGD) and I did not have nausea afterwards which I’ve had in the past. Dr said no sign of cancer from previous surgery and did not think biopsy necessary…Good news I guess…Daughter also had the port put in.(Bill Jr sister). Helped her quite a lot. Best of luck in your continued treatment…Sending prayers…
You are so brave to write all of this in the midst of your pain, and it helps us stay connected to you. Teresa is faithful in forwarding it to me. Glad you suggested it. Love, Aunt betty
You are such a strong person and I admire you so much. I figured you had to be strong to live with my cousin:) I think about you daily and pray for you often each day. Love ya, Sharon
Forgot to mention. I am forwarding everything to Carol. She and John’s other cousins (and Aunt Fran) are also keeping you in their prayers.
From the few people I have talked to about their chemo it is two day later that they would feel sick. I like your idea of taking the medicine before it is needed because after it is needed seems to do little good ( this is also from people I have talked to).
I think you are being very brave as I would be a big baby curled up in a ball and crying, or screaming or drinking myself into a stupor. Or maybe I would be strong enough to do what you are doing a dive into this both feet first.
I think this should be a time in your life during which you are permitted to eat as much fudge and peanut butter balls as you want!!!!
I can if I can keep them down. But somebody has to make them for me!
I agree with what Gina said. I would be a big baby, crying and whining while going through this. You will kick this! Big hugs!
I’ve done my fair share of crying, but it doesn’t change anything.