Hurry up and Wait!
So, not surprisingly, my day at the hospital did not go QUITE the way I had expected. It started off wonderfully! We got there early (around 8:45a) and I was ushered in to have my labs drawn (only 3 vials this time — if you will recall, last time I had 11 vials). Shortly after, they took me back to where the nurse practitioner would meet with me…and I waited. Edie came back and she very patiently answered a panoply of questions (ranging from my mood swings to what to do about the stent in my bile duct — the current stent should be changed prior to my surgery, but after my chemo/radiation therapy). Despite our getting back to the exam room early (the appointment was for 10a and we went back around 9:15a), all of our questions and some stuff she had to check on, and we got done right around 11a.
Next it was to ambulatory care to get my chemo pump installed. At this point, MaryBeth and I were thinking we might even get out of the hospital early! Then I was called back to “chemo bay.” The chemo bay is a series of 8 reclining chairs. Each chair was occupied by an individual receiving chemo therapy; each person looking more frail and/or resigned than the next. The patients were accompanied by a spouse or friend or (adult) child, and I had the sense that each had their own routine for dealing with treatment (whether it was napping, knitting, or working). As I sat down, I whispered to MaryBeth that I felt lucky that I was not going to have to sit there 1/2 the day to get my treatment; little did I know.
Peggy, my nurse, was very pleasant and kept me informed throughout my stay in the ‘bay.’ Apparently, the oncologist’s office had not sent down my orders, when I had gotten there, so first thing we had to do was wait for the orders. Once the orders were received about 30 minutes later (and the script forwarded to the pharmacist to mix up), Peggy came over and put in my ‘tap.’ (I am pretty sure it is not called that, but essentially, it’s a connector that is inserted through the skin into the chemo port.) We then waited for another, oh 45 minutes for the pharmacist to mix up the medication. The pharmacist delivered the medicine, but not the tubing to connect it to my ‘tap.’ Peggy went back and asked them to put the tubing on and eventually (after 2 hours), I had my pump connected and running, and went on my way to radiation.
As I was sitting in the waiting area for radiation, the chemo pump alarm went off. Now I was told if it goes off, it would likely be an obstruction and that I should look for a kink in the line. Nope! No kink. So I went back to Peggy and she replaced the pump. It seemed to be working so I went back to radiation. They got me on the table and sure enough, the pump alarm went off, but by the time it did, they had already aligned me for my radiation treatment (besides, there was enough noise in the room that the alarm really was not terribly noticeable). The radiation treatment went smoothly (though, we had to wait for the technicians to find a doctor to sign off on the pre-treatment images).
Afterwards, it was back to Peggy, who again switched the pump. Again, after about 15 minutes, the alarm goes off. Peggy decides to send it back to the pharmacists. OOPS! The tubing they put on the medicine was put on BACKWARDS (which resulted in the condition that set off the alarm). With the tubing put on correctly, Peggy plugged me back in and lo and behold all worked well, and we were (finally) sent on our way. What I expected to be a 4-5 hour excursion turned into an 8+ hour “adventure.”
The long and short of it, though, is that I received my first radiation treatment (1 down, 27 more to go) and I am having the 5FU infused into me as I type this. Of course, my stomach is a little queasy, and I sit here wondering if it is real (a reaction to the radiation, the chemo, or both) or psychosomatic (my mind telling me I should be nauseous)?!? Either way, I’m going to get some medicine that should help settle my stomach. The rest of this week is relatively easy: I only have to get my radiation treatments (as I’ll meet with the radiologist after the first week of treatment).
Putting one foot in front of the other…
Merle