Hello world! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I would have liked to report all has been
well in chemo land, but alas, not so; nothing major, just typical me. Let me explain…. As you might recall, Portia
jumped ship during the ER visit and hospital stay associated with chemo
#4. So in order to make my life easier
with needles, Dr K had me get a pic line on April 27—right before chemo
#5. Of course I had no clue what was
going in my arm, but the light went on as they had me lay down on a narrow board
and then they strapped my left arm in.
It should have been easier and done in the Outpatient Services, but
since Portia had not been out long enough, I made the long walk to the
Radiology appointment—luckily I was still clueless or I would have made a right
towards the Kona Café. I will say it
was not as bad as I feared laying there and within 3 minutes, Pedro the pic
line took over for Damn Portia and all was well again. Well, for a moment anyway.
Chemo #5 on April 30 went well and the end was in
sight. To try to avoid the 10th
floor, Dr K lowered my chemo dosage by 10%. (Actually ended up 8% as someone
gained weight—really??! I would like to
point out no donuts were involved this time).
It was a good try. However, when
I took a nap on Sunday and actually slept, I knew I was in for it. Took my temp around 530pm (100.3) called the
office, talked to the on call doc and told Mom I had won the lottery yet again,
we were on our way to the ER by 6pm. Remember that Super Moon? It was that weekend. We got to the ER and signed in by 7pm. And we waited and we waited and we waited. With looneys and sick people---sick people who
were going to make me sicker mind you.
Finally we got back to a stall around 11:30pm—neither of us very happy. When we heard the doctor talking in the next stall
we realized it was not that bad:
Doc: “You know why you are
here, right?”
Lady: “ummm, yes”
Doc: “you were running
around outside with no clothes on.”
Lady: “okay—I want to go
home”
Doc: “I am releasing you” Lady’s fiancé: “she needs socks”
Of course that was just the beginning; there was the man and his wife arguing over who beat who, the poor crying baby, and later, after Mom made her escape, the police with the gunshot wounds. As my admitting ER doc said--- just another day in paradise! Anyway, after my counts were in, the ER doc comes in and he is admitting me no matter what and Mom is thrilled there is a decision (it is now 1230am and she has a long drive home) so she is out the door within seconds—can’t blame her. It still takes me until 3am to get to the 10th floor and I get to meet some new nurses! Who knew what I had been missing. Turns out I was pretty sick and Monday was one of those sleeping days. Dr K comes in during the afternoon this time and shakes his head and wondering what to do. I told him the first thing is to stop the fluids. I promise to drink and drink, so he says okay but he is still wondering out loud if he should give the next chemo. The thought of not having #6 was thrilling, but I knew he would still give it to me, just as he knew he would still give it to me. I was released Tuesday and I knew we were a go with #6 as he told the nurse I was keeping all the appointments.
Chemo #6 is scheduled for Monday, May 21. I figure a week of feeling like crap is ahead of me, then I should be back on the 10th floor by Memorial Day to say goodbye to the staff; Pedro should be gone and I can reclaim by left arm; and should feel good by Thursday, May 31. And I hopefully (fingers crossed) will never, ever have to endure chemo again. The downside is I will now have to watch what I eat, but I am ready for raw fruits, veggies and salads again. As for the chemo brain, there are studies that say it can stay with you for 18 years so I figure I have 5 years to use the excuse. And best of all, my hair will start to come in.
Revelation 14:12
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