Friday 6th November
Can't wait any longer. Chemo appointment is 1.30pm but after my blog, it seems like I'm just pacing up and down the house, waiting for the minutes to drag on by until it's time to leave. Sod it. Hop into the car. Pick up my friend. Drive to the clinic. Arrive at 12.30pm.
Portacath site on my chest and my neck is still very sore from yesterday's procedure but can't think about that now. In waiting room. They know I'm here. Why aren't I being called down? 1pm, I'm called.
Go down to the treatment suite. My 'chair' is shown to me. Big. Comfortable looking. White. Has all sorts of recliner functions. TV screen on a stand to my left which is magic because it is also a touch screen computer.
Mmmm.... will have to check out my blog and see if I've got any comments later...
Nurse comes over. She's very nice. I'm really nervous. So I told her. Lots. Time to use the new port. Kept telling myself that I've had over a week of injections into my stomach and my arm has been canulated several times recently, so this CAN'T be any worse. My friend offers to hold my hand. I gladly take it. Ok, understatement. I squeeze it. Needle going in. My friend knows that I can completely freak out and asks if I'm ok. "That was fine. That was fine" I repeated. It really was. No worse than having blood taken from your arm. That's all I needed to know.
The rest of the portacath needle insertions will be ok now...
Blood is taken. Need to check my levels apparently. Get a base line. Then the nurse comes over with some clear fluid in a bag and hooks it up to the drip stand behind me. "Is that the chemo?" I asked ignorantly. "No, this is saline". Then we'll give you anti-sickness medication. You'll have two kinds. The first one is Cyclizine".
I didn't realise that the first hour or two of treatment is made up of what seems like gallons of saline and anti-sickness. I've been psyching myself up to be poisoned right from the start, but now I'm essentially just waiting around again. This time however, I'm needing to run to the loo every 30 minutes. Not understanding why though because my bladder can usually hold all day. "But you're having loads of fluid put into you via the drip" explains the nurse (er, and my friend!). It honestly hadn't occurred to me that fluid (which I hadn't drank) would still make me want to wee so much! Now I feel daft.
After about 30 minutes of Cyclizine, the nurse asks me how I'm doing. "Ok" I replied. But I wasn't. Something didn't feel right.
Everything's going round and round. Feeling tingling in my knees and cheeks.
Must tell the nurse. Words come out like I'm drunk. Doctor comes over. Explain to her my light headedness and the tingling. Blood pressure is taken. All is ok. "It's the cyclizine" she said. It has that effect sometimes. I'm acutely aware that I'm not going to be having steroids, so figure I just need to put up with it, otherwise I really will be very sick.
Lulling into a false sense of security now. Seems like the saline and anti-sickness stuff has been pouring into me for an eternity that I'm actually quite relaxed now. Gossiping with my friend. Checking out the Macmillan site and my last blog.
Ahhhhh! Such nice comments from everyone. Must thank everybody for their support...
Then it all stops. Nurse comes over with a tray of stuff covered with what looks like a disposable nappy changing mat.
Oh shit. This is it. Oh shit.
Friend's hand back in mine. "I'm going to give you the chemo now" said the nurse. She's been fantastic since I made myself at home in the big white chair. It transpires that she missed lunch for me and won't leave me to another nurse to have lunch, because she can see I'm really terrified about what's going to happen next.
In the tray are 3 huge syringes. They look like they should be used on cattle. Not me. One has clear stuff in it. The other has bright red stuff in it. Then there's another 'drip bag' of clear stuff. The nurse explains. The clear syringe is Fluorouracil. The red stuff is Epirubicin. The clear stuff in the drip bag is Cyclophosphamide. F. E. C.
Hang on. I thought chemo was where you sit in a chair, on a drip for hours, whilst you read a magazine or something?????????
Apparently, the E is so dangerous that it has to be 'injected manually' so periodic checks can be made to ensure that it's going where it's supposed to be going (i.e. into the vein and not leaking into the muscle). The nurse prepares the syringe and hooks it up to my port. I now have a stony, cold face on. My friend asks me if I'm ok. I may have acknowledged the question but right now I can't take my eyes off the red stuff about to be 'plunged' into my body. "Please inject it REALLY slowly" I pleaded. "I have a fear of it stinging as it goes in. That's why I hate injections. It's the sting more than the needle". "Don't worry. I'll be very gentle" she replied. The nurse can see my face. She tries her best and starts to ask me about my kids.
A bloody distraction technique. Not interested. Need to concentrate.
"I don't want to talk" I said flatly as the red stuff starts to trail up the tube into my chest. "OK" she said. Silence all round for the next 10 minutes. Just watching.
This is the stuff that's gonna make me lose my hair. I'm being poisoned.
Then I must have said something, because the nurse is back to her distraction techniques again, but this time I'm participating. It took about half an hour to syringe it in. Swapped over to the other red syringe and start all over again. More relaxed now though. Damage has already been done, so trying to just 'go with it'. Half an hour later, the clear syringe with F in it. Then the drip back of the C. Then I think there was some more saline going in. Still running to the loo every half an hour! Then it's all over. Drip bag finished. Nurse returns.
Shit, she must be really hungry. It's 5.15pm and she's had no lunch...
"I'm going to take the needle out now" she said. She pulls it out. Quite slowly actually.
Ouch!
"Hmmm. That hurt coming out more than when it went in" I commented.
Must remember to ask the nurse to pull it out quickly next time...
"Well done" came from somewhere. Along with "You did very well" and "You were very brave". Friends and nurses are great!
OMG though. Not what I expected AT ALL. The manual syringing threw me. But at least I'll know what to expect next time. Boyfriend met me and my friend at the clinic. Walked to the car no problem. He drove us home. Half way into the journey, I'm feeling sleepy. Don't remember my friend getting out the car actually. Then arrived home. It's 7pm. Really tired all of a sudden. Going to bed.
Saturday 7th and Sunday 8th
The most extreme nausea I have ever felt. It's constant. Unabating. 10 out of 10 on the scale. Manage to make my way downstairs and rest on the couch watching crap TV here and there and then back to bed. In hindsight though, I think I will stay in bed for the whole two days next time. When I'm sleeping in bed, at least I'm not feeling sick. Didn't throw up though. Deliberately tried to hold it all in. Figured that if I throw up, I'll be throwing up some of the chemo. [I have since found this to be untrue because the chemo is processed by your kidney's and liver. It is therefore in your blood, not in your stomach, but hey, last weekend, ignorance was all I had]. Manage to have a bit of breakfast, bit of lunch and bit of dinner. Force myself to have lots of water. Throughout the weekend, I realise that if I don't keep drinking, my wee stings when I go to the loo!
Monday 9th
Very tired all day, but no sickness. Yeah! Lots of sleep. Mmmmm... Friends were great. One took my kids to school and another one collected them from school, fed them for me and looked after them until my boyfriend came home from work and could pick them up.
Tuesday 10th
Feeling brighter all round. Bit tired, but managed to watch crap TV the whole day without zonking out on the couch at all.
Wednesday 11th
Right. Going out today. Been stuck in for too long. Felt much better yesterday, so I'll bank that cheque from my grandma (she gave me money so I could buy some head scarves - thanks Nana) and get some keys cut for my cleaner. Mmmmm, need a pair of Ug Boot rip offs, so I'll have a look at some shops whilst I'm out.
Did the bank. Did the keys. In a shoe shop. I'm now at completely the opposite end of the high street to my car. Oh shit. Feeling light headed. Oh dear.
Crap! Car is bloody miles away!
Walk back slowly. Manage to drive home. Back to bed.
Mmmm. Must learn that just because I'm feeling better, it doesn't mean my body can handle it. Must get used to the new 'me' who can't run around all day long.
Thursday 12th and Friday 13th
TAKING IT EASY! Now in the 7-10 day period where I'm supposed to be immunosuppressed and most vulnerable.
Weekend 14th/15th
Thought I'd try again doing stuff. Took the kids to their swimming lesson with my boyfriend. Then we all went to the cinema. All was ok. Bit tired by the end of the day, but ok.
Today
Switched my computer on. Tons of e-mails and a catch up on this site.
OMG!!!! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS HAPPENED WITH DANIELLE???? I can't believe it. Sorry, I know I'm late on this one, but it's just awful! What a cruel person.
Anyway, thank you for getting to the end of this blog. I know it's been a long one. But I hope it helps anyone know what to expect if they undergo FEC chemo. Some of you may remember that I didn't even know what a 'cycle' was a few weeks ago, let alone what FEC involved. Thank you also to everyone who commented on my last blog. You don't know how much your support means to me. I was so tickled to read all your comments whilst I was in the chemo suite - even though I was 'high' on anti-sickness medication at the time lol :-)
