I read about people who go through chemo and are able to
work during the whole process. Some people even do yoga and exercise. I must
say I'm a little envious. I thought I was a pretty tough cookie but I'm finding
my body doesn't want to cooperate too much with my mind. This first infusion
has completely wiped out all the progress I've made to stabilize my system over
the past 10 years, after my flesh eating bacteria diagnosis. I'm in shock how
one infusion can wreak so much havoc. My
stomach has never liked pills and it's doing its best to let me know It's on
overload. My bowels are also expressing their unhappiness by stabbing their
picket signs into my large intestine to get even. It's difficult to remain popular with all the
parts that represent my body when they are all rebelling! I'm working hard to
get them all back on my team, knowing I'm luring them into a false sense of
security. I'll have to betray them all over again when I hook up for my second
"chemo cocktail". Now I know what commanders go through, leading
their troops to war. You know you'll have casualties - stomach here, spleen
there - but you have no other choice but to move forward, because if you don't,
the big "C" will get ya! I so wanted to be the chemo queen. Waving to
all my family & friends, perfect make-up, perfect drawn on eyebrows, nicely
done wig, toned body from all the yoga I'd be doing in my spare time. I've read
stories, they must be true. These amazing women going round after round, barely
missing a beat. I've decided they can have the crown. I'd rather whine and
complain about my failing body parts! No chemo trophy for me!
I was looking forward
to a few hours with my family on Labor Day. My nephew and niece were kind
enough to have a shindig at their house and I was excited to see everyone. I
especially miss the kids, because let's face it, they are always the life of
the party. It's fun to watch them interact with each other and I get great
pleasure out of just listening to their conversations. I thought maybe I had turned
a corner until I woke up Monday morning
and realized I was feeling pretty crappy. My breathing was labored and just the
act of walking up and down the stairs exhausted me. Bud, Robyn and I did our
usual routine - we love to order Chick-fil-a breakfast, find a nice cozy spot
and eat in the car. We've been doing this for years - it's kind of our thing.
After breakfast I realized I just wasn't feeling right. Besides the other side
effects I was feeling, this one just seemed different. I was due to have my
labs checked and it was so tempting to put it off for the day and just enjoy
time with my family. But no, I had to listen to that inner voice - you know,
the same voice that kept telling me, "don't do chemo, don't do
chemo." So off to the lab we went. A few hours later I got the call I knew
was coming. "You're white cell count is down and your neutrophil count has
fallen below 500 to 200. Anything below 500 means you need to go straight to
the emergency room." Seriously? On
Labor Day? My first question - aren't the injections I'm giving myself daily -
in my tender stomach I might add--supposed to prevent this from happening? You know, the
shots that give me all that bone pain and make me not want to sleep through the
night? So now my white blood count has joined forces with my stomach and
intestines!? Traitors!! I've been treating them so well for all these years -
how dare they! So, off to the ER we go. The three amigos - Bud, Robyn and cancer
girl.
Now for the kicker - I'm told I have no way to fight infection
at this point - and they want me to go to the emergency room? With all the
sneezing, coughing, puking people on earth? I have no shield, no sword - not
even a paper clip to defend myself, but come right on over! I bowed my head
dutifully, and off we went to my HMO Hospital - a 40 minute drive - with no
weapons.
Luckily for me, I have a pretty good sergeant in the form of
Robyn. As soon as we get there, she makes me wait outside in my wheelchair
while she commandeers a face mask. That's what I like about this girl, she's
always thinking. Once there, we try to pick the least likely spot to get
blasted by projectiles - having no shield and all. Oddly enough, the place
wasn't too crowded. I'm guessing most people would rather infect their family
and friends for the holiday than spend the day at the emergency room. We waited
about 10 minutes and got right in to see the ER doc. The staff put us in a room
in the corner of the ER that is typically for patients that are coding. It was
comforting to know if I went into cardiac arrest, all the supplies where at our
fingertips. We had our own room, away from everyone, and they also put a sign
on the door to let people know they had to wear a mask. They
made Robyn and Bud wear masks too. Now I'm all for being cautious for
obvious reasons, but we do all live together and share germs on a daily basis.
In fact, we just shared a car ride over in closed, tight quarters - but I guess
rules are rules. They both looked lovely sporting their masks and their
patience was impressive. My first choice
is always a female nurse or doctor. I tend to be a bit modest and I'm pretty
uncomfortable with the male variety of health care professionals. In walks my
male nurse - ok, I can adjust. He gets me all hooked up to an I.V. pole, takes
my blood, makes me pee in a cup (in a very disgusting bathroom, did I mention I
have no sword or shield?) and then settles me in on the wonderfully hard gurney
with no pillow and tells me to relax. I've got cancer!! - can I get a
pillow???? In all fairness, I was
offered a rolled up blanket for use as a pillow. Beggars can't be choosers! And
so, the poking and prodding began. EKG, chest x-ray, blood pressure, etc. All
in an attempt to find out if I have an infection. Ummmmm, I have no fever. I'm
not coughing, sneezing, wheezing and I'm not in pain other than the usual. Did
I mention that none of us had any lunch? Bud went in search of food but due to
the holiday, everything was closed. I guess no one visits the hospital on holidays
and the medical staff doesn't need to eat in the cafeteria. Note to self -
never go to the hospital on a holiday where food isn't an option. My male nurse
did offer a TV dinner with mystery meat, but I declined. I had to remember this
was an ER, not the Ritz.
There we all sat, me on my wonderfully hard gurney, Robyn in
a chair and Bud in my wheel chair, and in walks the young orderly with no mask.
He was a young kid, kinda skinny, wearing scrubs. He walks over and introduces
himself as the ER doctor. I swear he looked to be about 16-years-old. He told
me I have neutrophenia and said they are waiting for test results and a consult
with my Oncologist, but he thinks they may have to keep me. This immediately
made me upset which of course made the 16-year-old want to comfort me. He was
pretty intense and looked straight into my eyes and touched my face and said it
will all be ok. Where's my female ER doctor!! ?? He said they may not have to
keep me, depending on what the Oncologist recommended after the test
results. I'm sure he is a perfectly good
doctor, I mean, he is working in an ER and all, but jeez he sure looked like a
baby! In fact, he reminded me so much of one of my son's friends. Robyn said if
he was all up in her face like that she would have punched him. That's my Robyn,
she's such a warrior! So the young pup went off to check on my test results and
ordered a course of triple antibiotics to treat an infection they don't know
whether or not I have. I guess it's better to be cautious than not? We waited
for three hours, starving, uncomfortable, wearing our masks while we watched
the drip, drip, drip of the I.V. Even
prisoners get a meal! Finally, after all the tests were in and they consulted
with the Oncologist, it was determined I did not have an infection and I could
go home. I'm not allowed to be around people, but I can go home. Yipeeeeee!!!!!
I guess it's good I didn't go to the family BBQ with all the kids. The best
part of the whole trip was the male nurse giving us a box of the face masks.
Such a lovely present.
Now for the serious side. I really am grateful to my HMO
doctors. They treated us really well in the ER and took many precautions to
keep me safe from germs. They also gave us a private area in an ER - which was
pretty impressive. I couldn't have asked for a better team, Doogie Howser
included. As I said, I'm sure he is a great doctor, and he seemed very
compassionate to the old lady with cancer. As far as my white blood count, I
still don't understand why I'm giving myself daily shots and it doesn't seem to
be bringing up my numbers. I guess that's a question for the Oncologist's
office today. They did call me this morning to let me know I need to go on
Cirpro. Ummmmmm - do they read their charts? They started me on Cipro on the
28th of August and I called them to let them know it was upsetting my stomach.
Do they write this stuff down? Very confusing. They also said I need to start
neupogen shots. HELLO???!!! Also started
on the 28th. - grrrrrrrrrrrr. They even gave me a calendar of when to
start this stuff. I think I'm getting way too testy, time for an attitude
adjustment. I know I'm not their only chemo patient but shouldn't they know
what they prescribed to me? I'm done complaining now :) Hope you all have a
lovely, hemorrhoid free day. Did I mention the hemorrhoids are back!!?? We'll
save that for another post. I can do a whole post on my panic attacks regarding
hemorrhoids - it'll be fun. Also, in case you are all wondering, 8 days after
chemo, I still have my hair. It seems to be growing straight up, which is
totally attractive, but I'm guessing that will change soon. And, the steroids
didn't make me gain weight, I've lost 6 pounds.
Thanks for checking on me!
Beppy
P.S. Special thanks to my angels - Robyn and Bud for always
being by my side. You both have no idea how much I appreciate all you do! Big
thanks to Jeanne - your split pea soup was one of the only things I could eat
for a few days, thank you so much! To all family and friends who have called
and offered help, thank you, I appreciate you all.
I am with you in spirit always - you are "normal" with everything considered. Love you - can't wait for all of this to be over for you. Love the new "hair"
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