My chemo diary: Day 1

 

Friday, 25 October 2019 - I wake up in an anxious mood. If the surgeon is happy with how my wounds are healing I will be starting chemo today. Hubby is irritable this morning. I guess it is because we never know what is going to happen when we meet the surgeon. Each time we go there it seems as if something else is wrong: complications, more surgery, more complications, more procedures... What will today bring? Should I pack an overnight bag for yet another hospital stay? 

At 8 am we got into to the car and I tackled the trip from Parys to Rosebank behind the wheel of the Black Widow. We arrived just in time for my 9:45 am appointment. The surgeon examined my wounds and expressed happiness at the healing process. My left wound still has stitches in after last week’s fat necrosis complication and my right breast is healing really well after the debridement procedure on 27 September. New skin is growing nicely and have covered almost the full area of the wound. He gives me the go-ahead to start with chemo.

As we walked to the pharmacy (to buy the dressings I have to use for the next week) at the hospital next door to the surgeon’s rooms my mood went all dark. I secretly hoped that the surgeon would tell me to delay chemo. But I guess today is D-day then. 

Fast-forward to 12 pm. We have been sitting in the garden at the Rosebank Oncology Centre for the past hour. My chemo appointment is for 12 and both hubby and I are getting anxious. We have no idea what to expect. When the receptionist called my name I felt like turning in the opposite direction and running until I can’t run anymore. Thinking back about it I wouldn’t have gotten much further than the first street pole because I am not fit enough to run any farther than that! 

In the oncologists room we met the practice manager who will be overseeing my chemo alongside my oncologist. I got weighed and my height measured. I was given a prescription for my chemo pack, another prescription for take-home medicine (anti-acid to protect my stomach from the chemo, anti-nausea tables, and Schedule 5 pain killers), another piece of paper for me to book my next chemo session, and another paper that I cannot remember what was on it. The practice manager shows me what to do with it but I did not really hear what she was saying. I will have to ask her again next week.

She walked me to the chemo treatment room. There are two circles of recliner sofas in the room. She tells me to pick an empty sofa and make myself comfortable. There are no extra chairs so hubby had to stand next to me. He noted that he will bring his own chair next time. Two nurses came to introduce themselves - they will be managing my chemo treatment today. The first one explains to me that I will be receiving four drugs intravenously as pre-medication. Antihistamine in the event of an allergic reaction, cortisone, anti-nausea drugs, and I cannot remember the fourth one. It should take about 5 to 10 minutes for each of these bags to infuse. Then she explained that she will attach the chemo drug which should infuse over a 90-minute period after which a final bag of liquid will be used to flush the drip. 

The second nurse then came to insert the drip. She did a great job! Sometimes getting a drip inserted can really hurt, but she had a gentle hand. My veins were playing a bit of hide-and-seek but I guess that was because I was extremely nervous. Then the nurse attached the first bag of pre-meds and told me that it is most likely going to make me sleepy and that it is okay if I want to nap. I looked around the room and many of the other chemo patients seem to be sleeping. I asked hubby to please bring my iPod that I use in the car so that I can listen to some music.

I count the bags: one, two, three, four... I’m not feeling sleepy yet. The chemo drug bag is attached to the IV. I’m afraid. About two minutes later I can feel the drug burning as it enters my vein. The burning gets worse. My hand goes numb from pain and then my lower arm. It really hurts! I ask hubby to give me his hand so that I can hold it tight. He says: “I am sorry...” each time I say how it hurts. I feel like crying but I won’t. I am going to remain strong. And then, all of a sudden the pain is gone and I can relax a little. I’m still not feeling sleepy. 

Hubby has to leave me for a short while to pick up the dressings from the pharmacy because they didn’t have stock earlier that morning. He gives me a long and gentle kiss before he leaves. I look around the room at the patients. There are about 20 sofas around the room, each has a patient sitting in one. Some of them are alone. Most of them have someone sitting next to them. Many of them are sleeping. Two are clutching a bowl against their chest which gets emptied by the nurse every few minutes. Some IV bags are small, like mine, others are much bigger. I see one bag in the room with a red fluid. There is one small boy with his mom and dad sitting next to him. I am still not feeling sleepy. I am not feeling anything. Was I not supposed to start getting nauseous, or feel some other symptoms? Oh well...

A few minutes after hubby arrived back the chemo drug bag was replaced with the bag that flushes the drip. My first chemo session is over! I am feeling slightly drowsy by now, but not more than I would usually feel after a full day of meetings and being on the road. I make my next appointment and off we go to the car where I make sure I have a pillow behind my neck and a bucket at my feet for just in case I get sick. But instead of sleeping we chit-chat all the way home. Hubby asks every few minutes: “How are you feeling?” I’m feeling very normal. A bit tired, so much so that I know it would not be safe for me to drive. But otherwise I’m really feeling normal.

We arrive home around 4:30 pm and while hubby is taking a quick power-nap after the exhausting day I feed the dogs and start with dinner. Dinner preparations got interrupted so that hubby could dress my wounds. I then quickly make sure that there are buckets placed strategically around the house in case I get sick. We have wooden floors, you see. I do not want to be the one responsible for ruining our wooden floors. Hubby worked really hard to restore them by hand over a one-year period after we moved into the house eight years ago.

By 5:30 pm we sit down for dinner and I must admit by now I am feeling like I could go to bed and sleep until morning. But I am fighting the drowsiness the same way I would fight it when I have a big deadline at work. Why? Because I decided that I am going to do my absolute best to beat the side-effects and not allow them to affect my life. The power of the mind... positive thinking... call it whatever you like.

I decided to get ready for bed around 7:30 pm because I simply cannot fight the sleepiness any longer and by 8:30 pm I was in dreamland. I remember waking up to a thunderstorm somewhere during the night, and in the early hours of the morning I woke up again with terrible reflux, something I’m not used to. But the boerewors we had for dinner was very spicy so I am sure dinner, and not chemo side-effects, is the reason for the reflux. Hubby got up to get me some reflux drugs and back to sleep I go. When I woke up at my normal time, around 3:30 am, I still felt normal and I continued my usual morning routine. Let’s see how the first chemo weekend goes...