Monday, July 29, 2013

Chemo Day #1

To review some stuff learned during Chemo Class:
>> My personalized treatment plan has two days of infusions: Monday & Tuesday, repeated every 28 days
>> First day of infusions is very long, at least 6 hours, maybe more.
>> A chauffeur driver is not needed.
>> If a driver does come they can stay the entire time (boring!) or until blood work is done (sometimes blood stuff is low enough that Infusion may be delayed) so patient is not stranded, and if okay then leave and return after infusion is completed.
>> Side effects of Chemo accumulate (not during infusion but in subsequent cycles) and can progressively get worse as treatment, well...progresses. So 1st cycle, and sometimes 2nd cycle seem to be a breeze but by third cycle post-infusion side effects may be more significant.
>> Each cancer patient responds to chemotherapy (even the same treatment) differently.



First stop was visit with my C-Dr. He said since my last appt he'd spoken with the scope-Doc (we call him by his correct name but here on the blog...I don't) and reviewed their conversation about results of the endoscopy ultrasound and biopsy. I liked going over this again because I didn't get it recorded during the previous visit when it was first discussed. Oddly, I didn't record this session either!  Anyway, to continue...Scope-Doc did see an irritated esophagus and the narrowed esophagus and then did the ultrasound to find the mass and subsequently the reason he took a sample for biopsy. The biopsy results confirmed the mass is composed of same type lymphoma cells that were found in the lymph node from my jaw/neck. From their conversation, apparently both Dr's are amazed I don't have severe problems swallowing. My esophagus lymphoma (it is NOT esophageal cancer) is not an unknown type of cancer but unusual. Rare. I won't be written up in any medical journals but this is an unusual location for my type of lymphoma. And also the reason (even though I'm Stage II) for starting treatment rather than 'watchful waiting' strategy usually done for Stage I or Stage II lymphomas.

C-Dr then feels around my neck, jaw, shoulder, and armpits to see if there any new lumps = none. Listens to heart and lungs and says all sounds well. Prescribes two anti-nausea medications so I them in case it should be needed; one he's able to email in, the other requires paper prescription signed by C-Dr (and when finally walked in to pharmacy by me tonight I was required to show photo ID and then the head pharmacist had to sign off on this one too!). After C-Dr paperwork completed and no further questions, I'm cleared for advancement into the infusion room and invited to take chair of my choice. There were a lot of empty chairs so I plopped myself into one. After I sat down I thought maybe I'd made a poor choice but I figure over next several months it's possible to try out almost all of them.

Here's the view I had in front of me:
(chips & candy on table, fruit juices & soft drinks in fridge)




Left of the fridge was door to hall and restrooms. A lot of fluids went into me...3 trips across the hall...so maybe the correct chair was chosen after all.









my IV pole and view to the right:
With the Port that was installed in me last Friday, the nurse is able to get blood work through the port once she has made access into it with a specialized needle. Interesting. First vial is thrown away to avoid contamination with the antiseptic that was used to sanitize skin around port, then 2nd vial is used for CBC. Once my blood is 'good' (shouldn't be a problem with 1st chemo session) the first pre-med is given. This is the Benedryl used in the event of any allergic reaction to follow up meds and chemo. Of all side effects possible for today it was the Benedryl that affected me...drowsiness. Never really fell asleep but had to put down the crossword puzzle a few times and rest my eyes. Next two pre-meds were an anti-nausea that's effective for 3-5 days, and a 'dex' with multiple purposes, and sailed through those just fine. Then...the Rituxan which took the longest time to infuse.  It was started with a very slow drip so they can monitor for reactions. If, after 30 minutes there are no problems then the drip rate is increased and again monitored for any adverse reactions. After the next 30 minutes, so far so good, the drip rate is again increased, and so on. I think it was about 3 or 3-1/2  hours for this bag to get emptied. Then the Bendamustine, the final bag of chemo for the day.

My 'things-to-do-to-keep-busy-bag' had in it a book to read, the puzzle page (Suduko, CryptoQuote, and 2 crosswords) from yesterday newspaper, my Nook, and smartphone (check email, websites, Pipes & Angry Birds games), and lunch to munch on. At about about 3pm or so I was looking for something different to do, so played around with the camera on my phone.

me, my port, and IV  (not the name of a Jim Carey movie)


Here's the rest of the room after everyone had left for the day:
(so I don't have to have people sign release forms?! LOL):



I suppose if family or friends want to come during my infusions they can, but guest chairs are limited and don't expect me to entertain you--this is my best excuse to get some guilty pleasure reading done. Today got started on an Anita Stansfield book that's been sitting on my bookshelf for over 3 years.





Nurses were very attentive but each had many patients to care for during the day. When they hang an IV bag with either the pre-meds or the chemo they set a timer for the approximate time it takes to empty and when the alarm goes off they check the bag and if it's not empty they reset the timer. Sometimes they guessed correctly, sometimes not. Interesting. When the IV bag is empty then an IV 'flush' is given with regular saline solution so that none of the pre-meds or chemo's mix in the IV or port. That scenario reminds me of those people who don't like to mix their foods during a meal and eat all their meat and then all their vegetables and then all their rice, but it all ends up in the stomach mushed together anyway. So, don't all these IV things end up together in the blood?  Hey, if it works I'm not gonna question medical authority. However, if you see me not alternating foods eaten on my dinner plate anymore...

About 4pm I was the only one left in the infusion room, and my last IV bag was started. They said it would be about an hour. By the time it was complete, my port cleaned and covered, appointment for infusion set at 9:20am tomorrow, and I was cleared to leave it was about 5:20pm. Eight hours, almost like a day of work!

Feeling great, so I made a stop at a grocery store for some items needed. Then to a car wash and get a months worth of dirty rain cleaned off the car, then a stop at post office to mail bills, then the pharmacy to pick up the anti-nausea meds. Then home...where my mother asks as I walk in with grocery bags, "Looks like you're feeling better since you've been to the store." Hey, her perception, not mine -- who said I was feeling bad? Not me! Maybe some day in the future, but not today.

One Senna-S tablet tonight (on nurse recommendation) as proactive approach to expected constipation from one of the chemo drugs. Here we go. Hopefull pun intended.


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2 comments:

  1. Despite everything ahead, your sense of humor is amazing! I loved the Jim Carey comment, hahaha!

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  2. Your Jim Carey comment made me giggle too! Also, how your food all gets mixed up in your stomach anyway. I've thought about that so many times.

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