#firstchemo

2/20/15

Driving to my first chemotherapy session I am anxious.  My hubby is with me and it is a recordbreaking cold day but the sun is out in full force.  We get called in and though I am fine all day yesterday (after doing seven loads of laundry, sorting my pantry, juggling kids home on school break and running every errand I could think of) the moment I sit on that table I lose it.  I start crying.  I cannot even talk to the nurse.  She hands me a box of tissues (which I am sure she has done a million times giving me a moment to get myself together and I do my best all the while apologizing.  'I don't know why I am crying', 'I have been fine all day long', 'Why am I doing this?' I am embarrassed.  I am anxious.  I am scared out of my mind about the intravenous.   Yes, you heard me the damn i.v.   Not the THREE POISONS about to be put into my body, not the scary side effects, my stupid fear is the damn i.v.  Only me.

I get myself together fast, do the weight/height thing (why I need to be weighed each time makes sense to me I could lose weight from session to session but could this make me shrink? Or get taller?  I do not understand this, but I digress...)  I get my vitals taken.  Ironically my fear has not affected my blood pressure again, I expected another spike; it is normal.  Then they call in another nurse to do the i.v. because she could clearly see she has a basket case on her hands.  She needed the big kahuna.  I think I scared her off for I never saw her again.  HAHA

I begged this nurse that she please do the i.v. on the inside of my elbow where i.v.'s do not bother me.  She explains that they usually start at the bottom of the hand for a reason.  If they have a problem with the hand they work their way up.  If they start at the top and cannot get a good clean i.v. in then they cannot do chemo that day.  There is no place to go up from there and if they go below the chemo will leak out of the top hole.  Yea that rational thinking had no bearing on my fear.  I asked why they could not then go to the other arm.  My sentinel node surgery does not limit anything being done to it (can take blood pressure form that arm, can fly without a cuff, can even get blood from that side unlike most patients with nodes removed).  This is how crazy my fear is. (Back story: It all stems from a surgery I had when I was a kid and they put an i.v. in my left hand.  You're judging me again... you know some people don't like heights, some don't like spiders, I don't like needles of any kind, but an i.v. in my left hand is crippling.  OK judge. I probably would too.)

I insist my hubby leave the room - he has his own story from childhood that makes him queasy around stuff like this and well being scarred when it comes to this myself I understand.

She finds a spot just on the top of my hand by the wrist.  And all that stressing was for nothing.  She did such a great job.  And I could move my hand without feeling the needle in me too much (thank GOD).  I literally HUGGED HER.  I think I would have kissed her feet if she let me.

Game on, chicken shit no longer.  Bring on the Chemo.

Instead they bring in my hubby, and the doctor comes in.  Did I mention I like her?  She takes the time to answer all questions and alleviate my fear.  Well... she did say some scary shit like in 7 years from now there is a chance (less than a percent I believe) that I could get leukemia.  Like that news anchor on NBC Robin Roberts did.  She had breast cancer (supposedly, I did not do fact checking it is almost 2am and I won't sleep until this is typed) and they got a pre-leukemia.  Anyway I did not see that coming.  But will put out of my mind.  I need to focus on one thing at a time.  Breast cancer eradication.

After she clears me, I am taken to the chemo suites.  They are like little cubbies with a chair/barka lounger, t.v., and guest chair.  I insist my hubby go have lunch and work.  I have a Skype date with my mom.  I need funny mommy stories.  When my hubby is nervous he clams up.

First they hook up saline.  Then a steroid (Dextrose).  Then an anti-nausea (Aloxi).  Then methotrexate is shot into my i.v. port. (And all this time I am getting a run down.  But I just want this lovely nurse to shut up and let me Skype with my mom.  She does not seem to get the hint that I am doing this alone and this is NOT part of my plan.)  Finally with her chatting I stop her to Skype my mom and introduce chatty, Ahem I mean the nurse to her.  And then I relax.  Mom is with me.

I feel like that Jetson's cartoon from when I was a kid.  Here she is hours away from me and yet she is WITH me.  And she can see I am fine, I show her the i.v. and her words 'oh Lord'.  She sees it's by my hand and knows I raised hell.  But I told her this spot was not a problem and all went well.  I did not tell her I blubbered like a two year old.  She will need to read this to find out. 

Anyhow... ten minutes later nurse is back.  Another shot of fluorouracil is shot into i.v. port.  I should say I am not really feeling anything.  Just happily chatting to my mom.  (I had asked earlier what was allowed.  Phone calls, Skype, etc.  I did not want to be rude to others, but being that 99% of the people were with someone and talking, I felt as long as I talked quietly and wore ear phones I would not disturb anyone.)

Ten minutes later... what?  First my vision of them taking three vials and putting it into a martini shaker and giving a good shake was busted.  Now there is no relaxing...?  OK, did I envision this all wrong.

Final drug for 30 minutes.  Cyclophosphamide.  Boy is this one a bitch!  Within 5 minutes I started to get this headache, pressure built from back of head and creep it's way forward.  Usually I do not mention anything but my mom read my face and asked.  I mentioned to the nurse and usually happens.  Headaches, sneezing attacks, sinus pressure all normal.  But what was weird was after 20 minutes it left as quick as it came.

Then I had to sit and finish some saline and I was out of there.