#11 December 19-28

So the family got in for Christmas, and we’ve spent the last two days trying to see just how far my feet can go without dropping completely off. We had a leisurely day on Sunday having breakfast together and trooping off to the movies to see Star Wars, but Monday, we all went to the Museum of Science and Industry. I clocked close to four miles that day, and museum feet were hollering loud and clear.

On Tuesday, just to see how much my feet could really take, we took the train in to town for the Chicago day of sightseeing. We saw the Bean, the Macy windows, Christkindl Market, Giordano pizza and the Sky Deck (which was totally socked in with clouds.) By the time we got back home, I could barely eat my Italian beef from Portillo’s before I had to go home to get some rest. I was in bed by 8 p.m.

The next day, I had to be at the hospital at 7 a.m. the next morning for my port placement which went fairly easily. They got the IV in first time, always grateful for that, and although I was in what was called “conscious sedation,” I slept through most of it. I really only remember feeling the Dr. pushing the port into place, and that didn’t hurt, just pressure. They had my face turned away to the left, while he worked on my right. He did introduce himself, but I never saw his face.

I was only in recovery for a short time, and then my husband drove us home. I was pretty sleepy, and took a nice nap when home. The area where the port was placed was sore and felt funny when I would start to get up for the first couple of days. I felt like I had to hold my hand over it as if to keep it from falling out, but after that, it’s been fine. They closed the incisions with glue, and told me not to pick at them, but just let it naturally fall off. Of course it itches, so I want to pick at them, but I’m being a good girl for once.

We had a wonderful Christmas. My granddaughter, daughter, and their foreign exchange student took over the Christmas dinner cooking like champs. I’m very picky about my dressing for the turkey (or stuffing as some call it,) and my granddaughter made it perfectly. I had tried to write down the recipe as best as I could, but you never know if you get it all in there until you taste it. It’s my favorite part of the meal. All too soon, they were all off back to their home in Texas, while my son and his wife headed to her family in Michigan for New Year’s. We had a restful Sunday all by ourselves, and then on Monday ♬We’re off to see the Chemo – the wonderful Chemo and Draws♬

The morning started with a winter storm warning, wouldn’t you know it? However, we left early, and it was only raining on the trip to the hospital, although by the time, we had been there a while, you could see sleet sticking to the grass.

The only real glitch to this chemo day was the “draw.” Every time you go for chemo, you have to have blood drawn so they can see if your blood counts are OK. I have known people who had to go home or even into the hospital to get their blood counts up before they could have their chemo session. Of course, that would be very unusual to happen on a first chemo, since they haven’t had the chance yet to destroy your blood counts. These things must be done delicately.

I had specifically asked at my oncology appointment if the blood draw would be taken from my port after it was installed, and was told that it would. When I had my blood drawn after my oncology appointment, I had asked if I would be coming back to that lab when I had my chemo draw. I was told yes.

As soon as we got to the hospital, I went immediately up to the blood draw lab, and discovered that the technician couldn’t take the blood out of my port, only out of my arm. Evidently only the nurses and doctors can do the port. I could walk all the way over to the infusion area, and get it out of my port, or just let her do it in my arm. I had prepared my port with EMLA cream, so I wouldn’t feel the stick - all for naught. So we did the arm thing again; however, she was very competent, and got the needle in first time.

We were still early for my Dr. appointment, so we had breakfast at the hospital café, and then walked over to the infusion area, just in case there was something else they needed to do with my port, but they didn’t. The infusion area is a good trek away from oncology, and they are building a new one that is close to oncology, but it won’t be open until my last chemo day. If that time line holds, I may be one of the first to use it, and it will be my last time. Hooray!

We then walked back over to oncology, and I met another very good nurse who cleared me for chemo. She too, gave me her number and email, and told me to call about any questions etc. They are very thorough.

Finally it’s chemo time. The time I had been dreading since the beginning of this clambake. The room is full of people in various stage of chemo, the most obvious sign, of course is lack of hair. Some people have hats, some wigs, and some scarves. The slender people look the worst. I guess that will be one odd in my favor. If I lose a lot of weight, I won’t get that cadaverous look.

You wait till your restaurant buzzer goes off and they take you to a room with two infusion chairs separated by a curtain. No one was in the other side. The chair has a television attached to it, although I never turned it on. I had packed a big bag with snacks, drinks, laptop, kindle, blanket, socks, hat etc., but didn’t wind up using most of them since I didn’t have that much time to use up.

First chemo is education time. My nurse Kathryn was very informative. She explained everything, asked me many questions, and it was over an hour before we finally got to the business at hand. I had reapplied the EMLA cream before coming, and she accessed my port easily and with no pain.

I did not have a pre-chemo “cocktail” of Benadryl, steroids, anti-nausea, or anti-anxiety medications that some are given. I was given a Zofran anti-nausea pill (for which I also have a prescription at home) and that was that. She said since I had taken the “Dex” (nickname for the steroid) as my oncologist had prescribed, I didn’t need it in the IV.

I was first hooked up to a saline drip to flush out the port before she started the first chemo bag which was Taxotere. This one is the more lethal of the two drugs that I have to take, but not nearly as lethal as some. Still it has lots of interesting side effects. Because my oncologist had prescribed the “Dex” for me to take the day before, day of, and day after chemo, I hopefully would not have any allergic reactions to the Taxotere. She starts the drip.

I am sitting here listening to the cast album of “Something Rotten” while having poison dripping in my veins. Sounds very Shakespearean, doesn’t it? I feel no different. No reactions, nothing. Kathryn tells me they’re putting it in slower today since it’s my first time, but it seems to go very fast. Suddenly the Taxotere is empty. I ask her if there’s another bag, but that’s it, just the one. She flushes my port and starts the next drug Cytoxen. It’s only supposed to take 15 minutes. Before I can hardly think about it, it’s through. A quick saline flush, and I’m outta there!

I feel great. We pack up everything. Kathryn gives me a sheaf of instructions about what I just had done, and what to look for, and who to call if I have a problem, and I get to go home.

The sleet/snow has turned into rain, but the roads are slow since we’re getting out right about 4 p.m. Rush hour has already started. I had asked my oncology nurse about my ability to drive, since my husband can’t drive at night, and she said I should be fine, since I wasn’t getting any medications that would impair my driving. I drove home without a hitch.

The “nadir” or peak of side effects can come about day 5-8 or so. There are lots of them – hair loss typically occurs at 14-21 days, mouth sores, constipation from the anti-nausea meds, diarrhea from the chemo meds (you’d think the two would work together and make everything normal,) the “crash” from coming off the “Dex,” taste bud changes, smells, dry skin – the list goes on. 

Not everybody gets everything, so now I just wait for the other shoe to drop.