Sunday, December 30, 2007

Poison is good!

Yeps, good ol' poison. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, death in a bottle. Yummy. Oh, wait, the Dr. types call this stuff medicine. If you're a cancer cell, it doesn't matter what you call it because the stuff does what it is supposed to do....kill fast growing cells like cancer, finger nails, hair, taste buds, all the stuff that makes your mouth feel like a good place, etc. It works really well!

Bob must die! Bob must die! Bob must die! (Insert evil villain laugh here....)

Bob must die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, got it, cancer bad and dying. Dead. Done. We're now killing Bob's potential offspring and any other cells that thought about going to the dark side and becoming cancerous.

For anyone wondering what it feels like to have chemotherapy, today must be your lucky day, I' m gonna tell you. You've already read about the 3 inch long needle inserted into the medi-port in your chest and the 18 inches of tubing that are attached to it. Not particularly bad there but when they start attaching that tube to the medicine your life changes forever. This is a good thing in the long run since this is how cancer is killed and prevented for the future. The only downside of this is that the chemicals that are injected into your body are NASTY!

They start with a little saline solution to get the tubes working and get you comfortable. Once the saline is moving they bring in the anti-nausea medicine. Chemotherapy is poisoning your body and it makes you very queasy to put it mildly. You are told that the anti-nausea meds will last for about 6 hours and that if you start to feel sick after those meds wear off that you should take a little pill version of the anti-nausea meds. They are very adamant that you take this pill at the first sign of nausea because once you throw up the first time you won't be able to stop. The only chance you would have is in the form of that little pill and if you take it once you've started vomiting you would simply toss it back up before it could work. Pay attention, there is a test! Vomit once, you'll continue for hours. Feel sick, take your pill. End of test.

We get through the saline and the anti-nausea medicine just fine. Once they start with bag # 3 in the cocktail is when the real killing begins.

Bye Bob's grandchildren!!

We're finally getting some medicine that will kick some cancer butt. It is an incredible relief to see that bag get attached to the tube and see the meds start flowing. It feels like we are finally able to do SOMETHING about cancer. We've had it carved out and let the scars heal but now it is really a chance to be aggressive, pro-active, on the offensive. We're taking the fight to the disease instead of the other way around. It feels GOOD! (Probably better to me since I'm just sitting in a chair next to the lava lamp reading a book and glancing over to watch the nurses, Pat and Amberlee take care of the cancer fight champ of 2007/2008, Leslie.)

Once that bag has dripped through, about 15 minutes, it's time to introduce bag #4 which is chemo drug #2. This is the stuff that looks like Kool-Aid gone terribly wrong. Very bright red and, I swear, it has an ominous presence. That might be aided by the fact that when Pat comes in to attach this bag she is wearing a chemical suit, mask and gloves. Hmmmm, any questions about whether or not this stuff is Cherry flavored head right out the door.

This bag needs to flow slower so it takes about 2 1/2 hours to get this one done. Take your time with poisons, that's what Momma always told me.

Once all is done they drop another bag on Leslie to clear the lines and make sure she got every last drop of the poisony goodness. She did. By the end of the night she has gone through 3 of the anti-nausea pills because the nurses and doctors have instilled a fear in her of vomiting for hours. She doesn't vomit once but she doesn't sleep very well either. The fear of endless vomiting and the ever present knowledge that you just willingly accepted poisons into your body that will cause your mouth to develop sores, your hair to fall out and your fingernails to become paper thin doesn't bode well for a wonderful night of rest. With the aid of these suggestions Leslie tosses and turns the entire night, waking briefly to check her hair every 15 minutes or so. The drugs and suggestions (not sure which is more powerful here) have her scalp and head tingling enough to make Head and Shoulders proud. She doesn't lose any hair the first night because it's supposed to take about 2 weeks on average. The tingling she feels is the chemotherapy working and doing the thing it is supposed to do, kill. Guess we wouldn't want to go through all of that and not have it feel like something was happening.

We are doing this willingly because the thought of cancer is far worse than the cure. The cure, however, is pretty rough. The people that fight through this and survive are amazing. My wife is amazing. She is strong, brave and determined and will do whatever is needed to stay on this side of the daisies with Jared and I. She becomes my hero more and more each day that I watch her get up and push past the fear in order to have a normal life. Anyone wondering why you see so much pink for supporting breast cancer need only to live a day of this life to know that better cures, better prevention and better awareness are desperately needed. Supporting breast cancer research allows for improvement in all of those areas. The beautiful thing is that any type of cancer cure will eventually bring about the end of cancer and the end of such horrible cancer cures. One day at a time, one dollar at a time, one person at a time. I saw a great T-shirt that said " Now that we have made it acceptable to talk about breast cancer, let's make it unneccesary." That's brilliant. Do what you can, please. I will continue to work with Tough Enough To Wear Pink and Susan G. Komen For the Cure. That is something I would have done even before October 25th but now it's personal. Bob must die and you can help. You do not want to have someone that you love go through this. Be aggressive, be pro-active and give some cash to aid in the prevention of cancer. Thanks.

Ok, I'm off my soap box but I needed to throw that out there. Better now.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "Bob must die, save the boobies!"

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Chemo - Take 2













Friday the 14th of December, 2007.



A good day.


We get to the hospital shortly before 8am. I drop Leslie off and take Jared on to DayCare. It's a good day for a kid to be in daycare. Jared is only 3 but he knows that Mommy has an owie. He knows that he can't play rough with Mommy but that's ok cuz Daddy takes care of that stuff anyway. Mommy spent a big part of the night last night showing Jared what is going on with the gigantic 3 inch needle inserted into her chest with the 18 inch long tube attached to it. Ok, he didn't really see the needle but he saw the gigantic clear band-aid that held it in place and thought that was really cool. As a boy of 3 years will have definite ideas on how things should be done it was Jared's idea to give Mommy some better band-aids. Curious George band-aids to be exact. There are photos but no test here. By the way, check out the new hair-do. Leslie's cut it short so when it falls out it won't be quite so traumatic or messy. Fun stuff! Also be sure to notice Leslie's new friend. Jared and Daddy made a pink bear for Mommy to hold when she is getting her medicine. Mommy named her Chemo-Sabe. Mommy is very clever.

I get back from dropping kidlet off and head up to the 3rd floor where Leslie is already waiting in the infusion center. She's got her self into one of the nice leatherette recliners that are marked for patient use only and is already receiving fluids through the big 18 inch tube that is connected to the gigantic 3 inch needle that is inserted into the medi-port in Leslie's chest. (Bet you're getting a feel for how this stuff is connected by now, huh?)
I say hello to Pat and Amberlee and grab a seat across from Leslie in the infusion room. They start things off with a big ol' bag of saline to make sure everything is working ok. Follow that up with some anti-nausea drugs and then we wait for the poison/medicine from the pharmacy. Once it gets there we start dripping that into the mix. The first one goes pretty quickly and we're ready for the second one by around 9:30. The second bag just looks bad. It's bright red and immediately leaves a bad taste in Leslie's mouth. Amberlee is kind enough to give her a piece of chewing gum to help get rid of the taste. Both Amberlee and Pat are fantastic. Pat is a breast cancer survivor and Amberlee is just plain sweet. Thank you ladies!
While Leslie was receiving her meds today she got to meet another young woman with breast cancer. Tina is a few weeks ahead of Leslie in treatment and has moved on to the second type of chemo medicine. She has lost her hair and wears a knit cap to keep warm. She's a very kind woman and I can see that she and Leslie will be getting along well. Tina's son and husband both shaved their heads when she lost her hair. Very supportive and she seems to appreciate it greatly.
Once the chemo treatment was over we packed up and headed out. Leslie said she felt great at that point so we grabbed a bite to eat and she went on to work. By the way, if you're in Cheyenne and have a hankering for a great slice of pizza, drop by Mondello's. Great food and very friendly people.
Chemo is done, no big deal, Leslie went back to work, I went home. Boring day. Don't know what all the stress was about.

Chemo

Thursday, December 6th is the day slated to begin Leslie's chemotherapy. We are so incredibly excited to get things moving forward and really begin the final stages of healing. Dr. Batezini's office had set the appointment for 1pm and we needed to check in at admissions at the hospital at noon. From there we would go to the infusion center for a blood draw and then to Dr. Batezini's office for a quick meeting and then back down to the infusion center where the joy of injecting poison into Leslie would commence. Yay! It's a hospital, they're professionals, this is gonna be cake.

Except..........

Our little boy, Jared, develops a case of Pink Eye on the Monday before the appointment. From there Leslie develops a cold and laryngitis. Dr. Batezini determines that the Pink Eye might be an issue since chemo inhibits the body's immune system. Not a good idea to get sick with Pink Eye and then weaken the ol' immune system.

Fine.

We can wait.

Jared gets better by Wednesday and Mommy/Leslie gets better too so things are moved back one week to get a great start for chemo on Thursday December 13th. Yay. It's a hospital, they're professionals, this is gonna be cake. Birthday cake even, it's my Mom's birthday, this is gonna be great!

Except..........

We go to the hospital and check in at noon on Thursday the 13th. (For those of you that know me and my little rodeo cowboy type superstitions you will understand that going to the hospital on the 13th is a MAJOR event for me. Not a good one either. Had it been Friday the 13th we would have re-scheduled. No kidding.) Zip through the paper work, this is going great, no need to worry about things on the 13th here. This is a hospital, they're professionals, this is gonna be cake.

Except..........

When we get out of the admissions cubicle we take a wrong turn and go to the wrong half of the hospital. There are two sides, one that is for private practices and the other side for the actual hospital, giving us a 50/50 chance. We went to the wrong one. No big deal, we're only a couple of minutes late to the infusion center for the blood draw. Gotta get that blood work done so we can be sure you're healthy enough to put poison in ya! As we're getting the blood drawn and having the gigantic 3 inch long needle inserted into the medi-port in preparation for the chemo we are told that we will not be having chemo done today.

That'll stop ya in your tracks!

We're here, Leslie has a gigantic 3 inch long needle stuck into her chest with an 18 inch long tube hanging from it, we're ready to have poisonous substances injected into the 18 inch long tube that is connected to the gigantic 3 inch long needle protruding from Leslie's chest and they're calling a Time Out??!!??!!

Hmmm, it's the 13th. Dang good thing it's not Friday!

So we talk to the two women in the infusion center, Pat and Amberlee, and find that Molli from Dr. Batezini's office told them that she had told us that we would not be receiving chemotherapy today. The only minor glitch to that synopsis is that we never actually got that information. Ooops. This is a hospital, they're professionals, this is gonna be cake.

I'm fuming mad and can't hardly talk. Leslie, thank goodness, is able to work out a deal with Pat from the infusion center. Pat has graciously offered to stay late to get Leslie's chemo taken care of. All we need to do is get to Dr. Batezini's office, have our quick little meeting, and get back to the other side of the hospital so Pat can hook Leslie up to poison and make her sick. I mean better. Sorry.

We take off at a canter across the hospital and get to Dr. Batezini's office right at 2 o'clock. We are On Time for our appointment and things are looking up. We get the paper work taken care of while we wait and Leslie is excited to get something attached to the other end of the 18 inch tube that is connected to the gigantic 3 inch needle that is stuck into her chest. Her excitement wanes as we wait for AN HOUR to get in to see Dr. Batezini. By this time we've already called Pat and told her that there is no way we'll ask her to stay that late for us. We are both incredibly disappointed that we won't be doing chemo today but at last we finally accept it.

At 3:15 we finally see Dr. Batezini. She explains what will be happening during chemo and that we will be ready for chemo tomorrow morning. I will allow that I appreciate that Dr. Batezini is willing to take as much time with a patient as that patient would like. I don't like it when it takes an extra hour to get in to see her but I will say that she is very good when you finally get to have some time with her. I guess that's modern medicine for ya.

3:45 and we're walking out of the hospital with our new friends Mr. Gigantic needle and Mr. Tube. Yay, new friends.

We go home and eat some birthday cake for my Mom. Happy Birthday Mom!