The morning was difficult. Sleeping in that cold, uncomfortable hospital bed all alone with no one is hard enough. What I did instead was just toss and turn all night with my brain going haywire. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this anxious in my entire life. On and off, I think I got maybe 2 hours of sleep.
7 AM rolls around and there are two transports actually fighting over me. Myself, I was rooting for the X-Ray lady but unfortunately, the IR transport person won. I knew what that meant. It was time to put in my ports. The pic line and the hickman line. My anxiety reached a fever pitch.
We got down to the procedure area, the doctor came out and I signed the consent forms and one of the nurses strapped my arm down straight out so that they can PIC line in. I shit you not, I actually started fantasizing about trying to escape and getting out of there. I’ve never had a panic attack before, but this was definitely as close to one as I have ever gotten. Luckily they pumped me full of some anti anxiety meds and a sedative and I was out.
Unfotunately, I woke up just as they placed the last part of the hickman line in my chest as they buried it. Needless to say, it didn’t tickle. Thankfully I’m whisked back to my room pretty expediently. As wonderful as the people are in nthis hospital, it seems like you have to wait forever for EVERYTHING here, but I guess I got lucky.
I get back to my room and lucky for me, my mom was already there. Unfortunately for my mom, I was miserable and couldn’t sleep. I basically took little naps for the majority of the day until it was time for the big one. The point of no return. That whole shabang. Everything that had been done to this point could be reversed, but now the nurse brought it what looked like to be a 300 lb bag of liquid chemo therapy to be hung from my pole (tehe.. Hung from my pole). Once that starts, there’s no turning back. Cells will be destroyed and I will never be the same on a molecular level. So here goes nothing…
… And funny enough it felt a lot like nothing. It was that huge bag of chemo and then several other bags of complementary drugs to manage side effects and what not , but afterwards aside from the fatigue, I really didn’t feel any averse affects. I guess I was lucky. The nurse did tell me that some people don’t feel anything until the 2nd day of chemo starts.
Later that evening, my sister came by and brought with her something that will insure that I will love her forever… KFC. Oh man, I scarfed that down like it was my last meal. The Colonel was quite the life saver. I was willing to enlist in his army after that.
Some more time past and at about 5:30, my friend Sue had come to visit. I have not seen Sue in a very long time and while I would’ve rather had them under other circumstances, I was glad to be seeing her. We spent a few hours hanging out, catching up, coloring, and watching Star Trek: The Next Generation (don’t dudge me!).
After she left, I cleaned up my night on various Skype dates and finally trying to go to sleep.
Here’s something less morbid
I do hope tommorow was as easy as today, you're a fighter, be strong and rest.
ReplyDeletesandy
Whether you get sick or not with chemo depends on the kind, doses, and yourself. Just stay positive and tough and you'll make it through fine! I did, and it's my 10th year this October since my transplant. As terrible as it may seem now, one day you'll look back on it as a distant memory.
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