As of Friday morning, I'm back home after just over 24 hours in hospital which represents my first chemotherapy session (with three or five more sessions to go). I've managed to sleep, in bed, for a few hours and now, early Friday afternoon I'm catching up with my medications, potions and lotions and testing my stomach with a bit of soup.
We arrived at the hospital by 8:30am on Thursday morning and were up and running by a little after 9:30 am having had a cannula installed into the back of my hand by the doctor. The whole scientific mechanism for holding a cannula on the back of the hand needs to be completely pulled apart and re-designed, because - and this is only my very humble opinion - the whole thing is just too insecure and not really designed to last anywhere near 24 hours when you bear in mind the patient has to go to the toilet and eat and if possible sleep. If the hand never moved then okay, but that is just not a realistic proposition. If the hand moves then the package is never really secure enough, the glue isn't strong enough and despite the ministrations of nurses well practiced in the art of securing the cannula - they all have their favourite tricks - then sooner or later there's bound to be an issue.
Anyway, the chemotherapy day starts with two bags of saline solution and then finally, finally, finally at 1:30pm we hit the cancer with PEMETREXED (the first of the three cancer attacking drugs). That takes about 20 minutes and is followed by a bag of Mannitol which is added in to help my kidney function during the chemotherapy. I send an email to my girlfriend asking her if she thinks it's too late for me to do a runner. Sadly, the answer is yes.
From my point of view the worst side effect so far is a dry mouth. I could murder a Frescato from Costa Coffee. I have no idea why - perhaps its the equivalent of what pregnancy does to taste buds - but I am soooo into my iced drinks at the moment - I have been going through anything up to a six pack of Walls Calippos a day . I know that Leisa is quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) laughing about it, but they do so much in terms of the taste of my mouth, keeping my tummy settled and bring a much needed general psychological wellness that I'm not going to stop anytime soon. I ordered a little snow cone maker online. I hope that this will allow me to make my own shaved ice drinks - it's been despatched but it's got a long way to get here from the USA.
By 2:30pm we are up and running with a bag of CISPLATIN (the second of the cancer attackers). The bag has four hours to run. It runs longer because we hit the trauma of the cannula coming out. There's some controlled panic from my support team, as the CISPLATIN can burn on contact with the skin. Luckily no damage appears to have been done, there is no burning sensation and the team clear up. The doctor comes back, and a cannula is inserted in the other hand and away we go again. I think it's cost me about 30 minutes - but it's already clear I'm going to be here all night, so no real harm done to the schedule.
I come across a card that Leisa has left in my overnight bag. It takes just a moment to run through a wide range of emotions. How lucky I am to have met her and how shockingly awful for her to find out that I have cancer so early in the relationship. I need to put a lid on these emotions today, and concentrate on getting through this ordeal, but I know I will come back to them soon. I know that I could not have gotten this far without her. Since my rheumatologist first said the Big C words I realise that some of me has been on auto-pilot and I need to shake any remnants of that off and get focused on what is really important.
After the CISPLATIN is complete it's another 2 bags (at two hours each) of saline solutions and at 4:30am this morning in goes the ZOLENDRONIC ACID (the third of the cancer attacking drugs).
Hit conversation of the stay in hospital has been the iPad. Have had a number of conversations with the nurses and the support staff.... Why would you buy one, are they any good, what do you use it for, aren't they expensive etc etc. Say what you like, but the iPad has generated an enormous buzz. It has rocked the established view of the market and inserted a form factor between the phone and laptop. They are beautifully designed.
Leisa arrives to take me home. I'm more than ready. I feel tired and not particularly with it. I think we're all looking for signs - and not even the big ones about how the chemo has gone - we're all looking for the little ones along the lines of how my stomach feels and the levels of fatigue. All I know is that I need to lie down.
UPDATE: Fatigue has been pretty much the story of the weekend. It's now the middle of Sunday night / Monday morning and I'm a little awake, enough to make myself a cup of tea and to feel that I have a modicum of energy in the tank or might have a little in the tank when I get up on Monday morning proper. Which is good because I was beginning to feel like a total lump of uselessness.
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