Treatment No. 1
I think yesterday was the strangest day of my life.
Welcome to the Commonwealth Hematology-Oncology Center!
Billy and I checked in about 11am. I gave them some insurance information, and we waited about 10 minutes before some strange man (I think he might be Dr. Sanz's partner) called me into the labratory. He took my blood and we talked about Rhode Island. He thought that my idea of counting all the viles of blood taken from me is silly because "it replaces itself." Stupid Doctor. Sometimes they just don't remember what it is like to be from the outside world, to not be a doctor, to be naive. Oh well.
I am weighed. 112lbs.
Next, Billy and I have a chat with Dr. Sanz. He says I may or may not lose my hair... yadda yadda... most of the stuff I have already heard from him or someone else. He tries really hard to be nice and make you feel comfortable and like you know what is going to happen to you when you take these dugs. And I laugh and he has this sad face of concern. I'm not sure if he likes my jokes.
I enter... dun dun dun... The Chemo Lounge. Billy has to wait in the waiting room because all 6 of the shiny, black recliners are filled with patients. It's sort of like a dormitory common room with a TV, blankets, books, magazines, a walk-man with relaxation tapes... except the RA's are nurses and no one is really talking. I like talking, so it was kind of intimidating. No one is really happy to be there... so what's there to talk about, I guess.
The nurse who gave me the sweet shot in my butt, her name is Kay, says "hi" enthusiastically. She calls me "Pat" which would usually drive me insane with rage, but she's a nice lady. She went through 6 months of chemotherapy when she had breast cancer and she reccomends that I get a sexy wig. I agree.
Kay peruses my arms for veins. Hmm... not much to work with. I ask her to please stick my right arm because I am left handed and wanted to write some things down. She sticks me in the wrist... the vein infiltrates right away, leaking the initial dose of Benadryl under my skin. Because I am left-handed there is more blood flow in my left arm. Fine. She sticks my left forearm in the hopes that I can use my hand to write with. The needle goes into the vein but the strong blood flow pushes it back out and it infiltrates. Damnit. Kay has to get Patricia (who also has my middle name) to try again, this time in my left wrist. She stabs... wiggles... no deal. I am about to cry.
The Chemo Lounge has completely emptied. Kay goes to get Billy. It has been 45mins.
Billy sits in the recliner next to me. Another nurse is looking for veins. The veins on the opposite side of your elbow are called the antecubital. Just use these, I plead. They usually don't like to use those veins due to the amount of blood work one receives. If you stab a vein too many times it becomes damaged. So, the third nurse pokes my antecubital and I don't even feel it and she pumps me full of 50miligrams of Benadryl and some Tylenol.
Billy asks, "Are you tripping yet?"
Yes.
Me and Kay: Happy that I'm on drugs and not crying.
The chemotherapy regiment that I am taking is the standard ABVD mixture of 4 drugs:Adriamycin (which causes hair loss and infertiliy; it can also cause heart damage in large doses)
Bleomycin
Vinblastine
Dacarbazine
The first 2 are administrered separately over a period of about an hour. The bleomycin comes in a small IV bag and the bright red adriamycin comes in a large syringe. The second 2 come in a large IV bag and take about an hour.
Dr. Sanz chillin in the Chemo Lounge
Dr. Sanz comes in to apologize for all the poking that his nurses did and lament that I must have a port-a-cath surgically inserted into my collarbone to avoid another epic vein hunt. This tiny device is inserted under the skin and acts like a duct to a major vein. This way, they can just stick the IV in and be sure the drugs are going to the right place.
Probably because he was the youngest person in the office that day, the nurses loved Billy. I also think they were attracted to his mysterious philosophical side. Billy has huge guts to accept the challenge of Chemo-Buddy guinea pig. He is the only person I can watch bad horror movies with and he had to mute the excessive screaming so as to not scare the nurses. He makes me laugh at all the right times, carried everything, and photo-documented.
Billy gets the Chemo-Buddy 5 stars
l l l l l
When everything was finished, I checked out with an appointment for August 22nd. On that day I will have the port-a-cath installed (is that the right word? gross.) and have my second round of chemo immediately after. Geez, having cancer is like a full-time job. Well, at least part-time.
(They told me that I get another one when I graduate)
It was like Christmas when I got home at 3:30pm! As if it wasn't enough to have spent the entire day at the hospital I had a pile of mail in front of me... good mail! Thank you to everyone who made the day bearable :)
