It is a beautiful Autumn in Tasmania. The poplars are turning gold, and other trees and bushes are showing deepening reds and oranges. The leaves are starting their skiing trips down the airslopes.The roses are amazing!
It is still warm, and the sun shines on our front porch for most of the morning, making it a great spot for breakfast and morning tea. Because I missed what little summer we had, I am blessed that I can enjoy this heartwarmimg, gentle Autumn and its silky air.
Although, on this most beautiful day so far, I had to go for my second chemo, and get in as soon as possible for the best seat in the long room before 9.30 am and the rush started. So DH and I had an early morning date, and then he went to work while I had the 4 hour chemo treatment. Being early, I got a great seat, and now have to correct my initial impression of the long room - it widens into a t shape, and with the sun shining in the windows and bright blue sky glimpsed bewteen the drapes and chairs and intravenous stands, machines and cytotoxic drips, it's a very mixed hall of beauty and horror.
I started off well with a lady doctor inserting my canula with a gentle hand, but not in the same area - it appears that the odd spot on my hand indicates that last time there was a leak, and some of the toxin got directly into the tissue, leaving an itchy, dry flaky brown spot, and the vein in that area would not "pop up", so the canula was inserted in the centre of the upper part of my wrist - much more comfortable, and allowing me more movement. (I found out yesterday at my blood test, that they can only use my right arm for taking blood, blood pressure and giving the intravenous stuff because I had had the sentinel node removed on the left. Interesting!) This placement also allowed me to have the frozen gloves on both hands, and they were duly brought, purple gloves put on and then the mitts. Painfully freezing! I was started on munching ice chips, and as the morning progressed enjoyed two lemonade icy poles - giving the experience a more fairground appeal. I had an initial bag of fluid and then the nurse put on her "party frock" (their name for the neck to- wrist to- toe gowns) and her wide plastic glasses and got the real party started.
Before the Taxotere (black bag covered sack) was put up, the nurse told me that if I feel in any way different, no matter what, as the medication went into me, I was to holler. She would watch me like a hawk for 15 minutes. So she did, and as we chatted amicably about scrabble (she told me about reverse scrabble) I felt a horrid burning, bubbling sensation in my stomach. So I hollered! Nurse L sprang into action and hollered in turn for Nurse K, who rushed over as L put an oxygen mask on me. Another Nurse dived in to take my blood pressure and pulse - which was through the roof! she said. My throat started to close up and I started an asthmatic cough. The drip was turned off and Nurse K inserted a Phenergan dose into the other line. Within minutes, things calmed down, and first my stomach settled and then my cough stopped and throat relaxed. I had had a mere 4.7 ml of the medication and an allergic reaction had set in. I had to wait for half an hour before the Phenergan took full effect and they could start the party again. Fortunately, although I was so drowsy from the Phenergan, the rest of the morning proceeded well.
So far, aside from drowsiness and a few stomach cramps, thanks to the anti nausea med they give you with the fluids, my side effects have not yet set in. The previous stomach pain I experienced last time has not yet returned, nor the jaw and ear pain. The ONCO, when I told him of these side effects at our Tuesday appoinment, said that the stomach pain may have been because the meds attack fast growing cells, i.e hair, nails, inside mouth and throat and stomach lining. So he thinks my stomach lining was affected, and prescribed something in case it happens this time. The jaw/ear pain puzzled him as it is a sometimes a side effect of another cancer drug, but not the one I'm on. "Weird" he said.
I am hoping the sleep inducing effects of the Penergan will counteract the energising effects of the steroids, but actually I'm feeling more wide awake as time goes on!
My hair is nearly all gone now, although I'm amazed that I can sit pulling so much out, and wash clouds of hair down the shower and bath drains, and yet I'm still not completely bald! When I turn over in my sleep, I'm woken by a shower of hair falling onto my face, tickling my eyes and cheeks and getting into my mouth, and when I get up in the morning, I am a sight to behold. Poor DH is greeted with sticky up tufts sprouting in different directions - he has taken this well and not rushed out the room at first opportunity. In getting ready for our chemo date this morning, I decided to dry my washed strands as I did not want to put a hat on a wet, cold head. My hairdryer was insulted: it almost immediately made rude noises and started belching smoke from the back. I binned it. I won't be needing it for a while.
- our description of your hair loss makes you sound like Yoda, but in the nicest possible way of course. Just the tufty hair bit and the wiseness! May the force (and all good things) be with you.
- LOL, I've got a bit of height and weight on him - thanks
- maybe it was my force that zapped the hairdryer
- "Strong am I with the force".
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