The trip for chemotherapy was a down and back trip to Houston, left Monday night and home by 9 pm after my treatment.
The drive down to the Medical Center was a mess; the trip that normally takes 40 minutes took an hour and 20 minutes. Good thing we left early! Once we got to there I had to wait in line to get my blood drawn; every time that I have chemotherapy I have to get my blood drawn. They do this primarily to ensure that my blood count is not too low to receive treatment, and look mainly at my red blood cells and hemoglobin, white blood cells, and platelets. I’ve had so much blood drawn now that I didn’t even feel it, maybe because of the Ativan, but I think I’m getting used to it – sort of. Cody and I go and sit outside on the rooftop garden in the sun, it really feels good! He eats a salad from the café, but I can’t eat because I have to take the RAD001 on an empty stomach. We sit outside as long as we can before walking the half mile to the main building for my treatment, specifically the 10th floor. The walk over is nice, it is on a huge sky bridge with great views of the landscaping and streets below. The main building makes me feel sick. It looks and feels like a hospital, while the Mays Clinic (where the breast center is located) is comfortable and airy like a hotel. I would much prefer to have my appointments at the Mays Clinic, and should from now on. I check into the clinic and let them know that I’m a “hard stick” because of the size of my veins. We are finally called back into the treatment room, and it is definitely a hospital room. The nurse comes to start my IV, and discovers that my right arm is no good – duh. My veins are still collapsed and the vein used for my treatment last week is still healing. So she goes for a vein on the inside of my left arm, half-way between my wrist and elbow. Now if you have ever had anyone DIG around for a vein you know what I’m talking about – IT HURTS!! She digs for about 5 minutes and finally finds the vein, then yells “don’t move!” Cody slumps against the wall and onto the floor. All hell breaks loose in my room, nurses flying in and out attending to Cody, the IV being tapped onto my arm like athletic tape. What a mess??? Julia and my other nurse Silvia come into the room and get the other nurses to calm down and focus. They get my RAD001 pills, and start the Paciltaxel. My arm starts to burn like it is on fire! Cody goes to get the nurse, and she has to turn up the Saline Solution to dilute the medication because my veins are so small and the Paciltaxel is burning my inner lining of my vein. The treatment is over, we ride the shuttle back to the Mays clinic, and head back to Cody’s parents. Cody needs to eat and I need to change clothes, sweatpants and sweatshirt for the drive home. I also snag a fleece blanket and travel pillow – so nice. At 6:30 pm we begin the drive back to Austin. I do okay, until Elgin and start to get carsick; but don’t barf and make it home in one piece. We are greeted by a very happy kitty who wants to play with her string, we eat, and finally get ready for bed. Exhausting day.
About Me
- Rachel
- I am a very amateur triathlete, who has been diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer at age 33. I grew up all over the country and spent my summers at Brown Ledge Camp in Colchester, VT, except for the summer I spend at Phillips Academy in Andover, MA. I graduated from Hendrix College in 1999 and moved to Austin, TX where I currently live with my husband Cody and our cat Ophelia. We are active in the cycling and tri community here locally. We also like to travel and last year went to Playa del Carmen in Mexico, New Hampshire, and Honolulu.
2 comments:
Passing out. Yeah… it’s really funny… until it happens to you!
I was trying to make Rachel feel better, holding her hand & supporting her while she was being “probed” with an inch long needle. If you can imagine such a scene, you will surely understand that it was absolutely infuriating for me to just stand there and watch Rachel crying, shaking and writhing in pain from the nurse’s errant attempts to find a good vein. Just as I was about to tell the nurse to, “Pull the damn thing out and go get someone who knows what the hell they’re doing!” the nurse yells, “I’ve got it! Don’t move!” Rachel’s blood started to flow back up the line and then silence. The room faded to black, I leaned back, banged my head against a framed poster on the wall and then collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Not my best moment in recent history. Probably worthy of a silver medal if I had to guess (Beckman games). Since there was no blood loss on my part, you really can’t justify awarding the gold.
I came to pretty quickly, only to realize that in just seconds, I had gone from standing strong and holding Rachel’s hand, to a useless blob of flesh piled on the floor. A wave of shame and embarrassment crashed over me and I felt like the biggest loser in the whole hospital. The nurses (6 or 8 at this point) all thought that I hit my head really hard because the poster apparently made a VERY loud “Bang!” when I hit it on my way down. I tried to explain to them that I was fine and the only thing that was damaged was my pride. They made me drink some sugary juice and I put a bag of ice on my head to placate them. Once the nurses realized that I really was OK, they disappeared just as quickly as they had appeared. Only the research nurse and her assistant remained in the room with Rachel and me. They were really supportive and they both exchanged stories of instances long ago in which they found themselves in my shoes –passing out does not seem to be such a rare phenomenon.
One thing that I learned from this ordeal, which we will remember for the remaining visits, was that the nurses are there to follow orders -orders from the doctors and orders from the patients. When Rachel began complaining that the chemo was hurting her, I got really good at getting the nurse’s attention and making them address our concerns immediately and to our satisfaction. Next time I need to order the nurse to hit the vein the first time!
-Cody
WOW you two, this is quite a saga! Rachel you weren't kidding when you titled this post!
Cody, I appreciate the Beckmann Games shout-out but must say, your performance is worth at least a gold :-)
Rachel, you continue to amaze me with your strength and incredibly positive attitude.
Cody, so glad that you are not going to let the nursing staff get away with anything less than excellent care! You are being a very supportive partner indeed.
You two rock.
Love,
Jen
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