At 7:45 a.m., the cancer centre is pretty calm and quiet, which is exactly how I like it. I thought, I'd be in, get my Gemcitabine chemo and be on my way before the place filled up.
I checked in and filled out my "how ya doin'?" questionnaire that now accompanies every chemo treatment. On it, I mentioned I'm upchucking every day, can't keep food down and am blowing up with ascities (not in those exact words, of course). My complaints instigated action by my chemo nurse.
Usually, I'd only need blood tests to ensure my red and white blood cells counts were high enough to get my next dose of chemo; but she drew extra vials to check my electrolytes, which could be out of whack from all the vomiting. She also called Dr. W, who visited me in the chemo suite.
After assessing my situation, he ordered a series of abdominal x-rays to rule out a obstructed bowel. "Oh shit," I thought, "just what I need." (And yes, pun intended.) Thank God, no obstruction!
To help me eat, Dr W prescribed a week's worth of Dexamethasone. Now, you know my love/hate relationship with this steroid, but I really miss eating and I'm sure he'll watch me carefully. In fact, Dr. W wants to see me again in a week. I'm also getting ascities drained via paracentisis tomorrow morning. The big needle in the abdomen to remove the fluid is an awful procedure, but it provides such relief. Hopefully, this will be the last time before the chemo starts to work on drying it up.
At one point during the morning, Dr W talked about the possibility of postponing today's chemo treatment. He asked me how I felt about that possibility. My reaction in my head was, "Are you freaking kidding me? Give me the chemo. Let's kill these bastards." To him, I said, "I'd like to get the chemo."
With the clear x-rays, I finally started getting the Gemcitabine about 2-1/2 hours after I checked in. After a quick infusion, Michael and I walked out of the hospital after noon.
With a Dexamethasone on board, I got ambitious with lunch, happily munching down on loaded spinach salad and a tuna salad croissant. But I didn't really give the little white pill enough time to work and I saw it all again mid afternoon. Ever the trooper (or glutton for punishment), I tried again at dinner with a delicious spinach and cheese ravioli in blush sauce. Two hours later, it's still staying down. Fingers crossed, it'll stay there.
Tonight, I feel pretty good. I have no idea what the next few days will bring in terms of side effects from the Gemcitabine alone, but I'll deal with them as they come because this treatment is what I need. I'm thankful for that.
Tina
HAHAHA - I love that you wrote down your inner monologue, then your actual words. I wish I had the ability to differentiate the two. Sadly, my inner monologue is ALWAYS what is said aloud in Max-Land. Sometimes it's good... but most days it's pretty high on the "inappropriate" scale. ahahaha - although, it's generally entertaining.
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