I was up bright and early on the morning of May 27, arriving
at the oncology department at around
8:30 AM. I was nervous, anxious and in
desperate need of unloading the cup of coffee I’d had earlier, so went in
search of a restroom. I found one down
the hall, seated myself in the stall and was nearly scared out of my wits when
I heard a great whooshing noise- the stupid toilet was flushing violently with
me sitting on it! Quite unnerving! I returned to the waiting room and was telling Mr. G about the scary experience when I was summoned to the lab, where I was weighed, had my blood pressure
and temperature recorded, and then was
asked, “Do you have a port?” Out came syringes, tubing and a can of icy
cold stuff they sprayed on the port area before sticking in a needle with
tubing attached then using a syringe to withdraw blood. I turned my head during that part because
I’m a wimp. After they taken all the blood they needed (which seemed like a lot
to me at the time) they flushed the line with a saline solution, handed me a
little plastic cup and told me they needed a “sample.” I wish they had told me
that before the experience with the wildly flushing toilet. Thank goodness they
directed me to a rest room that had a normal, non-threatening toilet that
flushed only when the flush lever was pressed. I returned the tiny sample to
the lab, asked for a copy of the blood work results and was told to go down the
hall to the treatment room where the doctor would meet with me.
Dr. Vance, the oncologist went over the results of the PET
scan and an earlier blood test that showed my CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen)
level as 8.7, quite a bit above the normal level as a result of the
cancer. She said we were using a more
aggressive form of chemo in an effort to shrink both the rectal and liver
tumors. She was pretty confident that I
was a good candidate for either a liver resection or for ablation to get rid of
the liver tumor. We discussed the possible side effects from the chemo, one of
which is peripheral neuropathy, numbness, tingling and cramping of the hands or
feet, often triggered by cold. Thank
goodness it’s summer! After she checked my heart rate and such, she sent me across the hall to the
infusion room.
There were several
people there already, including one very young teen-ager who was apparently
there for her first treatment too and an older woman, a baseball cap covering
her bald head, who was in a very good mood because this was her final
treatment.
I picked out a chair
and the nurse came and gave me papers to read, describing what drugs I would
receive, what side effects to expect, etc. She then stuck a name label on me
and began to hook up bags to the line going into the ports. The first infusions are of corticosteroids
and antiemetics to help prevent nausea and allergic reactions to the chemo
drugs. When it was time for the actual
drugs to be infused, which in my case are Oxaliplatin, Avastin and Fusilev, the
nurse donned a sterile gown in addition to the gloves and hooked up the bags
containing the chemo drugs. Since there
is an excellent wifi connection in the clinic I was able to pass the time by
reading and watching a video on my Kindle Fire, checking in with facebook,
unplugging the pump attached to the IV stand and wheeling it into the rest
room. Evidently, all of the liquid being pumped into me was overtaxing my
walnut sized bladder. By the time the
four hours were up, I was pretty adept at navigating the IV stand past the
other infusion patients, around the corner past the nurse’s station and into
the rest room.
Finally, the bags were empty and the nurse once again donned
her sterile gown and gloves and brought out a portable pump that I am to wear
around my waist for the next 46 hours. The pump is inserted into a pocket on a
waistband after being hooked up through my port. We were able to run the tubing under my shirt to avoid having it catch on something and get pulled out This pump will infuse a drug
called Fluorouracil (5 FU for short)
into my vein over the next 46 hours. I was instructed to return to the clinic
on Friday morning to have it unhooked.
After some final instructions: stay out of the sun, do not drink or
touch anything cold, do not reach into the fridge or freezer without gloves,
avoid people with colds or coughs, etc. I was sent on my way. Here’s a pic of the pump- it reminds me of the
jetpack Wonderman wore, but other than that Wonderman and I have little in
common!
