Chemo #1

I am officially a chemo virgin no more.  I think I would have preferred to remain one forever, but what can you do?  Everything went went well today and I'm really just feeling normal at this point.

I was scheduled to check-in at 8:30 am.  It literally took us about 2 minutes to get there.  That is really nice.  Beth got stuck at the light on Eagle Road for like 10 minutes, so it depends which direction you are coming from!  Upon arrival I was more excited than I should have been to see that the doors at the main entrance were all working again.  Every time I've been there since back in November, two of the four doors were out of order.  Why?  It really bothered me that they hadn't fixed these doors for nearly 3 months.  Finally today all four were functioning.

We went down to MSTI and to check in and then I had to wait just a little bit for a nurse to take me back to have blood drawn.  My nurse's name was Teresa and she was very nice.  She led me to a chair and I told her that I had been told after my port surgery on Friday to leave my bandage on and let them remove it at MSTI and take this numbing cream with me.  "Oh no!" she said.  "I can't believe they told you that!  I am so sorry, this is probably going to hurt because the cream takes at least an hour so we can't use it."  There was another patient in the next chair over who also commented how it was to bad (side note... she looked really familiar but I couldn't place her).  Beth and I decided Dr. Livingston, as a surgeon, is way more concerned about risking an infection than feeling a little pain with the needle stick and thus wanted the bandages left on.

"It will be ok.  I can be tough," I said.  I was so happy that Krista had shared her experience and how they did not even prescribe her the numbing cream, and in the end she never used it and it was always just fine.  Thanks to that piece of knowledge, I knew I should be able to handle it!  The nurse said she would count to three and I should take a deep breath on three.  I did and honestly, it didn't really hurt.  Maybe a little pinch and then was fine.  I closed my eyes and wasn't even sure when she was all done because she was speedy!  When I opened them, she already had the two vials of blood in her hand.  Then she flushed the port with heparin which prevents clotting.

While the nurse was doing all that she mentioned that she had just "celebrated" her 12th anniversary of finishing chemo.  Won't it be wonderful when I am there!  Then it was back to the waiting room while they tested the blood sample for white blood cell count, platelet count, and red blood cells (maybe other things too, I'm not sure).  Before every appointment I also get this sheet to review and they say to make sure to answer these four questions.  I guess I'm not feeling overly distressed so that is good.  How can one not at least feel a little nervous before starting chemo though so I had to give that one a score at least.

Before long they called me back again.  A nurse weighed me, and then I met with Dr. Bridges and his nurse Andrea.  "Alright, what questions do you have?" he asked.  I had written out a list of questions last night so I just went down the list.  I wasn't even shy to ask any of them.  His answers all inspired confidence and trust which was good!  We reviewed the results of my blood test... all looked good even though my WBC count was a little low (3.2 when ideally it would have been at least 3.5).  It wasn't low enough to cause any issues for my treatment plan of the day and he really didn't know any reason it would be lower than it was back in November when I had it tested (and it was normal).  Once he confirmed I could do the treatment today, he wrote out the order/prescription of my chemo drugs and I had to sign a consent form.

The next step was going back to the waiting area.  It didn't talk too long before Teresa returned to call me back.  This was it!  I picked a recliner chair (they have chairs or beds) kind of in the center of the infusion center.  From my seat I could see though this glass box/window into the pharmacy.  I could see the pharmacist, in full protective gear, putting the drugs in plastic bins in the window where the nurses then accessed them.  She hooked me up to a bag of saline right away.

There was quite a bit of waiting once I was back there.  They do what I dubbed a 300% review... the nurse also reviewed my blood work and signed off it.  After she did that, the pharmacist did another review before preparing the drugs.  That part took the longest.  They said the first time is typically the longest.

While I was waiting the woman who looked familiar while I was getting my blood drawn got set up in the chair next to me.  There is plenty of space between the chairs so it's not awkward to be with a stranger but close enough you could say hello.  I'd realized why she looked familiar and was 95% sure that she was another mom from Claire's old preschool.  I asked if she had a daughter who'd gone to Primary Colors and sure enough it was her.  I only remembered her because her daughter looks exactly like her.  It's a small world!  She asked if this was my first treatment and said this was her second.  I asked how many she was going to have.  Twelve.  Then I wished I hadn't asked because I didn't want to tell her I only have to do four.  Lucky for me she didn't ask.

Teresa came back over and was able to get my "pre-meds" started.  A small square bag that contained an antinausea medication and a steroid (to lessen the chance of a reaction).

While I got the pre-meds, a friendly (and quite chatty) chaplain came over to introduce herself.  She was nice and didn't talk about religion or anything like that.  The closest she came was saying how we have to care for ourselves physically, emotionally, and spiritually and the importance of a support network.  It was verified once again how fortunate I am to have a strong group of friends and family supporting me.  It made me a little sad when she asked about my family and I had to think about them being far away.  Of course then I had to say how I actually do have family just a few houses down from mine, plus my sister, plus lots and lots of friends so then I perked back up.

Around the time I finished talking to the chaplain, another woman came in with a black lab who was wearing a visor, a John Deere bandana, and a sparkly lanyard complete with a St. Luke's-issue photo identification badge.  A therapy dog.  The dog was kind of wimpering and whining.  Beth and I were pretty sure it was a little annoyed it had been forced to wear a visor in the print of a dairy cow among other things.  A little later, the lady brought the dog (Patches) over to meet me and showed me some tricks it can do.  I like dogs ok so I scratched her ears.  I mentioned that Beth is allergic so it was easy to get them to move on to the next patient rather quickly.  I have a "therapy cat" at home and I think that will suffice for me (as long as it doesn't attack me!).

At some point they had gotten the green light for my chemo drugs from the pharmacist.  Teresa put on her protective gear (a disposable blue gown and of course gloves) and brought a plastic bin with a a large ziploc bag in it which contained the first bag of drugs.  The Taxotere (the one that the first sentence on the info sheet says "...may cause death..." in big bold letters.  She said in her years as an oncology nurse she'd never seen anyone have a reaction to it, but it was possible and told me things to be on alert for.  Before she administered it a second nurse came over.  I had to verify my name and birth date with her before they actually started the infusion.

The pharmacist came out to talk to me about my chemo drugs and also about the drugs to combat the side effects.  I have three prescriptions... the steroid which going forward I will take some pills the day before, of, and after treatment.  A nausea medication (Zofran) that I'm supposed to take at the first sign of nausea.  Another, stronger nausea medication that hopefully I won't need because it has it's own list of side effects I'd like to avoid, but it's good to know it's there if I need it.

They only administer one bag of chemo at a time.  Both of mine take about about an hour.  When I finished the Taxotere, Teresa came back in all her gear with another bin that had the Cytoxan.  Mostly Beth and I chatted away (Juan had to leave for a meeting).  I read various texts from people wishing me luck and sending positive energy to me today - thank you everyone!  Hearing from you really meant a lot!  I ate some snacks and eventually lunch, and drank multiple water bottles (and some Diet Pepsi from the snack bar/kitchen too ha ha).  Two hours later my bags had both been emptied and I was free to go.

Beth drove me home and I felt pretty normal.  I have noticed a weird taste in myself which was to be expected, but it's not bad and I was able to eat with no problems.  I did have one cheese stick/cracker thing of Claire's that tasted terrible, but it's that nasty fake cheese which really tastes pretty bad all the time.  They had said I might have lots of energy and not be able to sleep well these next couple nights due to the steroid.  I've been drinking tons of water.  Bryce, Dawn, Charlie, and I took a "walk" (with those two kids it's kind of difficult) and the sun was shining so that was nice.

I drove to Fred Meyer to pick up my prescriptions.  Unfortunately, my insurance didn't like the way the Zofran prescription was written.  The pharmacy called the doctor's office so he could re-write to the their liking and I should be able to pick it up tomorrow.  Luckily, no one thought I would need it until Thursday or Friday.  Back home, I met Claire at the bus stop.  She read me a book and I did dozed off a little in her bed under the electric blanket.  Juan took Claire to basketball practice and I bathed Bruce and got him ready for bed.

A pretty normal day, aside from the fact I have toxic chemicals coursing through my system!  I'll just keep drinking more water to flush them out!

As I've been trying to prepare myself for the experience of this first chemo I have come up with this bomb analogy.  Like I'm holding a bomb that doesn't have a set timer that I can watch tick down, but I know it's going to go off.  I don't know exactly how it will make me feel, although I have some educated guesses.  I don't know exactly when it will explode, but I know it will happen.  It's a weird feeling.  Hopefully it won't be as bad as I might expect.  Even though I've been told a few times now that they expect I will tolerate this chemo well, it seems pretty evident that I will feel something that is not normal for me.  They wouldn't spend so much telling you about it if not.  So more waiting... more wondering.  Tomorrow I'm planning to go to work and probably on Thursday, too.  My goal is to get my hours all in before Friday so that if I don't feel up to working I won't have to and also won't have to use vacation time.  (Yeah, thanks Red Cross for changing our time off policies [for the worse] exactly 9 days prior to being diagnosed with cancer.  I will save that rant for another day.)

{What's Next}  Tomorrow I have to go back to MSTI to get my Neulasta shot (to boost the WBC).  I started taking my Claritin for the next five days which is supposed to help with the bone pain the shot can cause.

On Monday, I'm going to participate in a "Look Good... Feel Better" class where they will give tips and advice about hair loss and skin changes.  You get free make-up (Mary Kay, I think) so that should make it worthwhile.

Next Tuesday, I will go back to have blood drawn again so they can see what effect this treatment had on my various blood cell counts.  They know they will go down, and we'll find out how much.  If adjustments need to be made for the next time, they can.  At that appointment they will schedule my next treatment.  This will be good because by then I will have an idea how many days after treatment I start to not feel well and if I want to move to a different day of the week I can.