Also, Beth cut her hair! It looks awesome, I love it! I think she looks younger (not that she needs to look younger) and cooler. She thinks she found her new look. I told her this was the first silver lining in all this crap. Without the threat of losing her hair she never would have cut it. And we never would have known how great she could rock a pixie cut.
anyway on to some thickness:
Wednesday, Sept. 3rd,
Today was the first day of chemotherapy. Beth surprisingly showed no signs of anxiety. She passed on taking the Ativan (anti-anxiety), which her doctor told her to take before the first treatment. When the time came to leave, she asked me to apply the Lidocaine to the skin on her port. After it is put on, it must be covered with an occlusion bandage. So we used Glad Press 'n Seal. Which she complained that the piece I cut was too large.
When we arrived at SSM cancer center in St. Charles, it was pretty busy. But, we didn't wait long before we were in the infusion center and she had the needle pushed into her port.
Then we spent the next 3.5 hours watching liquid drip. First saline flowed for 30 minutes. Then a small bag of anti-nausea medicine. Followed by another anti-nausea medicine. Then came the 'good' stuff, Adriamycin. The nurse pulled up a chair and screwed in a huge syringe with red kool-aid looking stuff in it. This had to be administered by her pushing the plunger for a few seconds then pulling back on it until blood was seen in the tube. Push for a few seconds, pull back till blood. Repeat until syringe is empty (approximately 20-25 min). This is done to make sure the drug is not accidentally escaping the catheter of the port. If that happens major tissue damage, skin grafts...bad stuff.
(Because of the toxicity of the two chemo drugs and the fact that they leave the body through fluids, for the next 48 hours our bathroom has become a quarantined area. Should any of the drugs get on us, our skin could become very irritated. The girls are not allowed in there. After Beth uses the toilet, she must flush twice and the seat must be wiped to clean anything that sprayed up from the flush. When we clean the toilet, we must wear gloves. This is powerful shit! And it is coursing through her body.)
Next, 15 min of saline flush. Another drug (Cytoxan). Finally, one more saline flush and then we got to go home. No problem, other than a bad taste in her mouth from the drugs, Beth didn't complain once.
As we were leaving, we witnessed the staff of the cancer center perform a song and dance, celebrating a nice old man's last chemo treatment. Good for him. I hope he never has to return.
We went home, ate dinner, and Beth didn't feel too bad. Then around 6:30pm, the nausea started. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THE TWO BAGS OF ANTI-NAUSEA MEDICINE FOR DURING TREATMENT, IF IT DOESN'T STOP THE NAUSEA? I guess she should take one of the additional two anti-nausea prescriptions we brought home with us?! The nausea consistently continued for the next three days. Along with extreme exhaustion. And major pains in her bones from the injection she received the day after treatment, to boost her white blood cells.
Side note: White blood cells are created in your bone marrow. Marrow is inside the cavities of your bones. Bones are rigid and do not flex or stretch.
I cannot imagine how that must feel.
Sunday was the first day after treatment that Beth felt well enough to go to work. It was a short day. The most chronic symptoms are nausea, headaches and fatigue. Beth has always gone to bed before me, however lately she is in bed and asleep before the girl's bedtime.
When she was pregnant with Genevieve, Beth never felt good. She would constantly be reminding me, "I don't feel good." So, once I told her, "I'll assume you don't feel good all the time, only let me know when you do feel good." This is another one of those moments. You can't take the OCD out of this woman, though. She still consistently attempts to clean the house, until Jean or I convince her to stop and rest. She remains constantly on my ass about some odd thing I need to do or remember. Lilly's dance class, for example. Lillian has had one class this season and we were late to it (an accident and traffic, not my fault). The second one completely slipped my mind. Beth arrived home from work and promptly asked me, "Lilly didn't go to dance class tonight?"
"Sorry, Lilly, you might not one day achieve Prima ballerina, because your father is a space cadet."
Treatment number two is Tuesday, the 16th. And any day following we could see Beth's head start to look like mine, balding and beautiful. Beth did get a wig to prepare for the eminent loss of her hair. I hope to post side bye side photos of her now with real hair and later wearing the wig. I think I could be fooled. It looks as though she had her hair cut to match this wig, or vice versa.
P.S. As I said I would, I am participating in a cancer awareness/fundraising event. Pedal the Cause provides funding for cancer research at Siteman Cancer Center and St. Louis Children's Hospital. All donations raised stay in St. Louis. And 100% of all donations go to cancer research.
I am proud to say I have beaten my goal and raised more than $500. Thank you to all who have made that happen. I have been humbled by your generosity. If anyone else would like to assist in taking my goal even higher, please follow the link below.
Pedal the Cause
Once there, select donate, then individual/team donation,
my rider number is: 52181
Thank you.
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