Before this, all I knew about Chemotherapy came from watching movies and TV shows. I distinctly remember the oldest brother on “Party of Five,” had to go through it because he had Leukemia. On “Sex and the City,” Samantha dealt with breast cancer, as well. They showed her having hot flashes and shaving her head.
I had no idea what chemo really was or how they administer it. My biggest fear was that I’d be “that sick girl.” You know, the one who is bald and has dark circles under her eyes and just looks skeletally skinny… My chemo is for preventative reasons, so I felt like all this was just so unfair! Why do I have to go through all this if they were able to remove the entire lump?
Well, let me put you guys at ease. Real life is nothing (ok, it’s just barely similar enough) to what they show on TV. TV shows and movies play on our emotions to get their ratings. The truth isn’t as exciting.
S. told me that he would take a couple of days off from work to come with me to my first chemo appointment. My father (Super-dad who has driven me to EVERY single one of my appointments, thus far!!) picked us up and drove us to the chemo center. S. is really good with the pep-talks. He’s been keeping me grounded in reality. Whenever my imagination or fears threaten to pull me away, he reminds me of how things really are.
So, that day (June 1st, 2011), I was doing ok during that 15 minute car ride. I watched the people who were walking on the sidewalk, going about their day as usual, while I was being taken to a place I’d never even imagined I’d have to go. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I was ok. My dad stopped the car in front of the center and told me to call him when I found out how long this session was going to take. I’d heard that it could take hours for the chemo infusion. Suddenly, it really hit me that I was in a car parked outside of a medical office where they’d do god knows what and fill my body with strange chemicals that have potentially nasty side effects! I felt like a prisoner who is forced to walk himself towards his own guillotine. (Ok, yes, I was being melodramatic… but that shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.) I noticed tears forming in my father’s eyes when he realized that I was about to hyperventilate. That scared me more than the chemo. I didn’t want him to worry about me. I was worrying enough for all of us put together. I picked myself up, told him I was ok, gave him a hug and walked towards the center.
Once inside, my puffy, red, eyes told the receptionist that today was my first day of chemo. She told me to take a seat in chair # 8. This visit gets a little fuzzy because my heart was beating out of my chest and so many different people came to talk to me…
Basically, the way it works is that when I walk in, they weigh me, take blood from the tip of my finger, take my temperature, and measure my pulse and blood pressure. Once the blood test results come in (about 5 or 10 min later), they start the IV. They won’t start anything until my heart rate is at or near normal resting levels.
They give me some sort of saline solution (Sodium bicarbonate, I think)…and various other drugs to prevent nausea and some other things. Then, they finally start with the first (of 3) drugs. Each baggie is labeled with my name/date of birth/etc, and the nurse who is taking care of me that day asks me to confirm this information and tells me the name of the particular drug before she will hook the bag up to my IV. I’ve been going there for 1-2 days a week for over a month now, and they still do this. Can’t be too careful! In total, the infusion part takes about 4 hours. They let the medicines drip at a slow rate so as not to overwhelm my body.
Once the first drug begins, about 5-10 minutes into it, I start to feel like there’s something heavy on my chest. I get a little light-headed and anxious. (This explains why they have recliners for the patients to sit/lay down in.) For the first 2 of my chemo sessions, at least, this part only lasts for a few minutes and then my breathing gets easier again. Actually, that’s not true of the first session. I was very anxious, so it was hard to tell if the difficulty breathing was coming from that or being caused by the medication… that lasted for about 2-3 days until I was finally able to relax.
I usually spend the time watching TV, reading a book or magazine, or talking to my dad... or the volunteer woman who always has a lot to say! When all the meds are done, the nurse usually asks if I’d like to finish the bag of liquids, which I usually accept, because it’s always good to be super hydrated. I can never seem to drink as much as I’m apparently supposed to. Then, I get to leave!
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