It Begins - First Chemo

I followed the signs to the Infusion Center, checked in at the desk, and took a seat with a dozen other patients. Soon I had the obligatory temp, weight, pressure check (high today, wonder why!) and was ushered to my "Pod" - a pleasant suite of four areas each with a comfortable recliner chair, tray, flat screen TV, and IV pole. While all of the areas could see out the full length windows, the two closest to the window wall had the best view. Since I was the first there, I selected one closer to the window on the left.

Almost immediately, my oncologist appeared. "Nervous?" she asked. I nodded. "A little." "I want to take a few minutes to review with you the results of my Conference conversation about your case - everyone was very interested and we had many conversations about how to proceed." She outlined for me the discussions, the pros and cons, the caveats, and finally the consensus the group had reached.

Turns out I am eligible for a clinical trial on the national level that will allow me to get the radio immunotherapy my oncologist feels will be the best thing for me. After a long and thorough conversation, she left me with the information about the trial, and told me to call if I had any questions. I could take my time, there was no pressure. I read through the handful of papers. It was sobering. There in black and white all the potential hazards of not only the chemo, but the radio immune therapy. It was enough to make you sick.

After asking her my questions, tracking down a bit more information, and praying a lot, I signed on. Meanwhile, a pleasant nurse name Pat introduced herself and told me she would be assisting me throughout the day. She would start an IV while we were waiting for the paperwork. After she tried, poking about, rolling a vein, not getting any blood, she called in another person to try (can't use the port yet). She also had trouble getting bloodwork. Each new unsuccessful stick brought a swath of gauze and tape. I giggled. "If this keeps up, I'll be a mummy!" The nurse hooted.

Next came a med cup filled with little pills of all sorts of shapes and colors. If I were a drug addict I would be in seventh heaven. It took two full cups of water to get them all down. I got an antihistamine drip to reduce reaction to the chemo. Then began the six hour Rituxan infusion. Twice we had to stop and let a bit of side effects clear. Normal. The chemo was administered next - three syringes into the IV tube, then one more little bag. Done!

I started at 9am and finished at 7pm. Not bad I suppose. I walked out under my own power with nothing more than a headache and bruise marks from the IV sticks - that and a list of side effects to watch for with clear instructions about calling the 24 hour hot line and when to wait and call during regular hours.

I arrived home to a wonderful home cooked dinner provided by a friend, then sat with my list of effects, beginning to feel a few of them, waiting to see if they lasted or if they would pass. I was nervous about going to bed in case something began to happen while I was asleep and I would wake in a dire emergency, and sat up for awhile, dozing in the chair.

Finally, I realized that there were lots of people praying for me, that God was with me and I could trust Him, that tons of people have gone through this regime with good results, and that I could stop fussing and rest, so I went to bed. Not bad for a first round.