13. Live from the 3rd Floor - Adult Chemo Infusion
So far so good. Well, so far, I've been hooked up to an IV in my forearm (They try to avoid joint areas) and I've been given an anti-nausea drug. Since then, I've been on hydration to keep the line open while they mix up the Taxotere, the chemo drug I will be creating special memories with.
And now the Taxotere is flowing into my body, probably for the next hour or so. Two nurses watched as the flow was turned on just to watch me keel over. Well, actually to see if keeling over was a reaction. An allergic reaction is apparently immediate and obvious, so again, so far so good.
We arrived on time today and as we walked up the sidewalk to begin this new phase of our adventure, we passed a young mother pushing a child by us in a wheelchair, joking and playing games with the wheelchair, child laughing, smile unseen behind a surgical mask. Arriving on the 3rd floor, we waited in the waiting area, speaking with an old friend that works in this department. Before our turn, we watched an older gentleman be called back, and as he tried to transfer from a chair to a wheelchair, he tangled up his feet and fell onto his back. Probably more embarrassed than hurt, I wanted to rush over and help, but germs are such a big deal on the infusion floor (I'm sure they are a big deal everywhere in a hospital) that I thought I might do more harm than good, and he had nurses surrounding him in a flash. I really do have it pretty easy.
We were "invited" back after awhile, got a tour of the floor, and got weighed and measured. They ask your name and birthdate often just to make sure they are not giving you Bob Jones's chemo by mistake. So naturally, I responded "Bob Jones" when they asked just to see if they were paying attention.
I like to watch people. I'm in a kind of pod or cubicle with 4 stations for chemo infusion. Across from me is an older woman who has done this before. I can tell because she looks like a pro, has her iPad there for reading, and has a port rather than an IV. To my left is an old man who has a great sense of humor. He gets up to go to the restroom, wearing one shoe only, dragging his "tree" with his infusion bags hanging on it over to the restroom. (Oh, that's what you do when you have to use the restroom... taking one shoe off now...) On his way back over to his recliner, he jokes about how long it's taking for his In-n-Out burger to arrive. He teases the nurses as they address various alarms going off on his "tree."
The 4th chair was unoccupied when we got here, but as we're waiting, activity begins as the chair is prepared for its next occupant. A beautiful young woman in a stocking cap walks in with a young man who could be her husband or fiancee? She acts like a pro as well, and judging from her pure white scalp and chemo port, she is. Her smile is amazing. As Juli is conversing with the nurse about all my potential side-effects, and they always give worst case, the young woman begins signing to me that her caretaker (pointing to the young man) is just as nervous as Juli.
When everything is flowing smoothy, I haven't keeled over, and all the nurses have vacated the pod, we have a chance to chat with the young couple. She is on her second round of chemo now, the first she says was the worst, this one much more manageable. We chat a bit about symptoms and side effects and I'm impressed with her attitude and their desire to encourage me as a chemo-rookie. She chews a lot of gum because of a taste that the chemo leaves in her mouth. She also suddenly gets really cold as a fluid flushes into her system. She has experienced several allergic reaction episodes with infusion in the past, so when they were watching me for an allergic reaction, I could see her encouraging me in the background, saying "you're going to be fine, it would have already happened." She was right. They finish before I do, so as they are leaving, she describes the schedule she is on, once a week for 8 weeks, this time around. What a trooper.
The old man has gone home, his son stopping by and getting him in trouble with his care team by tattling on his drinking habits. He protested that he had only had one or two drinks, to which his son added "a day." Alcohol is not prohibited apparently, but he has issues with his blood, and it was causing him to bleed internally with his cancer. His son is gentle and caring. He grabs his dad's personal items and tells him he'll drive up while his dad heads down to the ground floor at his own pace. The old man jokes as he walks away that he only has two speeds: "Slow or Stop."
I really do have it pretty easy. There are some rough hours ahead I suppose. I'm not a big fan of nausea, but so far so good.
Keep the young couple in your prayers. She mentioned wedding plans. Keep the old man in your prayers as he battles cancer in old age. The old man who fell in the waiting area was probably a real specimen of masculinity in his day, pray he knows who the King is and has no problem being humble before Him. And pray for the little boy in the wheelchair with a mask on. And pray for his mother. Suffering is good for us, but it is hard. Those who suffer I think have an advantage in their level of motivation to know God.
The infusion is now completed. They're running a solution through my system to finish up, so we will probably be leaving in a few minutes.
Juli will be driving me home in Sacramento rush-hour traffic. Pray also for Juli!
Hey look! A rainbow!
And now the Taxotere is flowing into my body, probably for the next hour or so. Two nurses watched as the flow was turned on just to watch me keel over. Well, actually to see if keeling over was a reaction. An allergic reaction is apparently immediate and obvious, so again, so far so good.
We arrived on time today and as we walked up the sidewalk to begin this new phase of our adventure, we passed a young mother pushing a child by us in a wheelchair, joking and playing games with the wheelchair, child laughing, smile unseen behind a surgical mask. Arriving on the 3rd floor, we waited in the waiting area, speaking with an old friend that works in this department. Before our turn, we watched an older gentleman be called back, and as he tried to transfer from a chair to a wheelchair, he tangled up his feet and fell onto his back. Probably more embarrassed than hurt, I wanted to rush over and help, but germs are such a big deal on the infusion floor (I'm sure they are a big deal everywhere in a hospital) that I thought I might do more harm than good, and he had nurses surrounding him in a flash. I really do have it pretty easy.
We were "invited" back after awhile, got a tour of the floor, and got weighed and measured. They ask your name and birthdate often just to make sure they are not giving you Bob Jones's chemo by mistake. So naturally, I responded "Bob Jones" when they asked just to see if they were paying attention.
I like to watch people. I'm in a kind of pod or cubicle with 4 stations for chemo infusion. Across from me is an older woman who has done this before. I can tell because she looks like a pro, has her iPad there for reading, and has a port rather than an IV. To my left is an old man who has a great sense of humor. He gets up to go to the restroom, wearing one shoe only, dragging his "tree" with his infusion bags hanging on it over to the restroom. (Oh, that's what you do when you have to use the restroom... taking one shoe off now...) On his way back over to his recliner, he jokes about how long it's taking for his In-n-Out burger to arrive. He teases the nurses as they address various alarms going off on his "tree."
The 4th chair was unoccupied when we got here, but as we're waiting, activity begins as the chair is prepared for its next occupant. A beautiful young woman in a stocking cap walks in with a young man who could be her husband or fiancee? She acts like a pro as well, and judging from her pure white scalp and chemo port, she is. Her smile is amazing. As Juli is conversing with the nurse about all my potential side-effects, and they always give worst case, the young woman begins signing to me that her caretaker (pointing to the young man) is just as nervous as Juli.
When everything is flowing smoothy, I haven't keeled over, and all the nurses have vacated the pod, we have a chance to chat with the young couple. She is on her second round of chemo now, the first she says was the worst, this one much more manageable. We chat a bit about symptoms and side effects and I'm impressed with her attitude and their desire to encourage me as a chemo-rookie. She chews a lot of gum because of a taste that the chemo leaves in her mouth. She also suddenly gets really cold as a fluid flushes into her system. She has experienced several allergic reaction episodes with infusion in the past, so when they were watching me for an allergic reaction, I could see her encouraging me in the background, saying "you're going to be fine, it would have already happened." She was right. They finish before I do, so as they are leaving, she describes the schedule she is on, once a week for 8 weeks, this time around. What a trooper.
The old man has gone home, his son stopping by and getting him in trouble with his care team by tattling on his drinking habits. He protested that he had only had one or two drinks, to which his son added "a day." Alcohol is not prohibited apparently, but he has issues with his blood, and it was causing him to bleed internally with his cancer. His son is gentle and caring. He grabs his dad's personal items and tells him he'll drive up while his dad heads down to the ground floor at his own pace. The old man jokes as he walks away that he only has two speeds: "Slow or Stop."
I really do have it pretty easy. There are some rough hours ahead I suppose. I'm not a big fan of nausea, but so far so good.
Keep the young couple in your prayers. She mentioned wedding plans. Keep the old man in your prayers as he battles cancer in old age. The old man who fell in the waiting area was probably a real specimen of masculinity in his day, pray he knows who the King is and has no problem being humble before Him. And pray for the little boy in the wheelchair with a mask on. And pray for his mother. Suffering is good for us, but it is hard. Those who suffer I think have an advantage in their level of motivation to know God.
The infusion is now completed. They're running a solution through my system to finish up, so we will probably be leaving in a few minutes.
Juli will be driving me home in Sacramento rush-hour traffic. Pray also for Juli!
Hey look! A rainbow!
Many, many prayers and much love. ❤️
ReplyDeleteDan,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your entry. I had Taxotere several years ago. I had 7 sessions with modest results. I did not have any nausea. The only reaction was being very tired for a couple of day. All I wanted to do is sleep. I pray that your reaction will be nothing more that wanting to rest. I am really encouraged by your results so far. I know with your faith and prayer you will continue to improve.
Dan,
ReplyDeleteThe unknown message is from me. I had not signed up at that time. The only side effect I had from the Taxotere was the loss of my finger nails. There was no discomfort as all they did do was peel off as they grew. Are you on a three week rotation with the Taxotere?
Yes, Rollie. 21 day cycle, I think 6 cycles.
Delete