Ok, so I feel better. Not normal, but able to function.
And I'm pissed off! Why is this happening to me? I didn't do anything wrong! I've tried to live my life as a good person! I'm really mad this is what I have to go through! I know others have it worse - but so many people don't have cancer and don't have to go through chemo and surgery, etc. - so why me???
I'm really mad now that I've had some time to think about it all. I don't deserve this!!!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Oh woe is me!
Ignore previous post.
I feel horrible. We will all be lucky if I don't throw up all over the house.
I hope tomorrow is better.
This is not easy.
I feel horrible. We will all be lucky if I don't throw up all over the house.
I hope tomorrow is better.
This is not easy.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Chemotherapy is kicking my butt! Or am I kicking its?
Hm, it depends:
Chemotherapy's points: Well, I don't feel good. My face is bright red (from the anti-nausea medicine) and I basically feel like I have the flu. I feel like I have a high fever (very hot head) but I don't at all. I have a headache and I'm completely constipated (sorry if too much info). I sometimes get nauseous but if I eat something, it goes away. I'm tired.
Heidi 's points: I can get out of bed. I'm not vomiting constantly. I'm not moving quickly but I'm getting around. I can do laundry. I'm not sleeping all day long. I will try to go watch Leo's soccer game and the Steelers are on TV here in NY!
I think a big important point is that they have made amazing strides with drugs recently. I'm taking something called "Emend" which has only been out about 5 years. It's being hailed as the miracle drug and I guess I have to agree. This experience has not been as bad as I feared it would be based on what I read other people went through in older books.
That doesn't mean I feel great and that this isn't hard. I'm really worried about tomorrow (Monday - when I might try going to work) because I'm not scheduled to take the anti-nausea drug. But hopefully that means I won't need it and I'll be ok.
And let's face it, I would be in much worse pain if I had been in some kind of accident. I don't really have pain per se - just feeling generally crappy. I would sum it up by saying I feel like I have the flu.
So am I winning or is the chemo? Maybe I'm winning this round at least?
Chemotherapy's points: Well, I don't feel good. My face is bright red (from the anti-nausea medicine) and I basically feel like I have the flu. I feel like I have a high fever (very hot head) but I don't at all. I have a headache and I'm completely constipated (sorry if too much info). I sometimes get nauseous but if I eat something, it goes away. I'm tired.
Heidi 's points: I can get out of bed. I'm not vomiting constantly. I'm not moving quickly but I'm getting around. I can do laundry. I'm not sleeping all day long. I will try to go watch Leo's soccer game and the Steelers are on TV here in NY!
I think a big important point is that they have made amazing strides with drugs recently. I'm taking something called "Emend" which has only been out about 5 years. It's being hailed as the miracle drug and I guess I have to agree. This experience has not been as bad as I feared it would be based on what I read other people went through in older books.
That doesn't mean I feel great and that this isn't hard. I'm really worried about tomorrow (Monday - when I might try going to work) because I'm not scheduled to take the anti-nausea drug. But hopefully that means I won't need it and I'll be ok.
And let's face it, I would be in much worse pain if I had been in some kind of accident. I don't really have pain per se - just feeling generally crappy. I would sum it up by saying I feel like I have the flu.
So am I winning or is the chemo? Maybe I'm winning this round at least?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Do you have good veins?
I have been asked this many times in the past week. It's quite a puzzling question and the more you think about it, the stranger it becomes:
How do I know if my veins are good?
What distinguishes a good vein from a bad vein?
Could just an average vein do the job?
What if you don't have a good vein?
WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT???
Well, no one has ever told me I have bad veins and I've never had trouble with IVs and having blood drawn so I decided I have good veins. So that's what I reported, "I have pretty good veins."
I was wrong.
Here's how my first chemotherapy session went:
Obviously the nurses need a good vein (i.e., a vein that doesn't collapse) to put the IV in. But it's so much more complicated than that - because of course this is Heidi going through the medical system so of course it can't be smooth sailing. I'm always causing problems somehow, for example, by lying about the status of my veins.
For one of the drugs I'm getting in Part I of chemo (Drug A), it's very important that it not get out of the vein into the surrounding tissue because it can cause permanent tissue damage. I didn't ask for further details b/c I kinda don't want to know. So, Drug A must be administered by the nurse through the IV a bit at a time, not through a drip bag. If the vein collapses, sneaky Drug A will escape and the nurse must stop administering Drug A immediately (so its little friends can't help do larger tissue damage).
Now, the IV can only go in the lower part of the arm - not above the elbow (I forget why). It shouldn't go in the main vein in the arm by the elbow because they want more "meat" around the vein. And because I had lymph nodes removed on the left side, I can never have a needle inserted in that arm again (for fear of developing lymphedema). So we were limited to the lower part of my right arm.
The veins were not showing themselves - apparently my nervousness was rubbing off on them (this is truly what the nurse said). She told me to relax - AH HA HA HA! Funniest thing I had heard since yesterday when my Junior Editor decided to switch to IP/IT instead of employee benefits. You actually think intellectual property and technology will be more exciting than benefits? Ah ha ha ha. Oh darn, you're right. Ok, back to the story.
Also, the room was cold so that made the veins shrink up, too. The nurse put heat packs on my arm and I had to open and close my fist to help coax them out. Finally one of them seemed ready but after a bunch of painful poking she declared that it wasn't good enough for the job. Now she had to find one that was higher than the insertion site and still below the elbow. But none of the other veins were willing to step up and do the right thing. CURSE YOU BAD VEINS!
So what to do? I was freaking out thinking they would send me home to try some other day and I was already emotionally invested in getting the first chemo treatment over with today. A delay would mean more and more anxiety buildup and I didn't think I could handle that. I ironically go from not wanting to have chemo to wanting to have it RIGHT NOW!
It was somewhat of a conundrum. The answer was to pull in the big gun: the nurse with more than 21 years experience. She rubbed my arm and investigated the veins carefully and eventually agreed that none of them was ready. The only possibility was the main vein in the crux of my elbow; the one that has always been used before but was initially rejected for this project due to lack of surrounding "meat" (nurse's term, not mine). Due to her experience it all worked perfectly and we were back on track.
To prevent this from happening during the next 7 treatments, the nurses suggested I get a "port" which is an IV line permanently hooked up under my skin. It requires minor surgery (which I am always against as it involves needles and other nameless, scary-looking medical equipment) for insertion and removal. However, there was another woman who had the same lumpectomy/lymph node removal/chemo treatment in the chemo suite and she had a port. And she was much younger than me. She told me the surgery was no big deal and it was totally worth it. So I think I will actually go for it.
To sum up the lesson from today's events, I urge you all to go figure out whether you have good or bad veins! Just try not to go the chemotherapy route when doing your research.
As to how I'm feeling, so far so good. I'm very tired and have been getting nauseous off and on but it seems to be relieved by eating something. Meanwhile it's only been about 6 hours so we shall see what the days ahead hold for me.
How do I know if my veins are good?
What distinguishes a good vein from a bad vein?
Could just an average vein do the job?
What if you don't have a good vein?
WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT???
Well, no one has ever told me I have bad veins and I've never had trouble with IVs and having blood drawn so I decided I have good veins. So that's what I reported, "I have pretty good veins."
I was wrong.
Here's how my first chemotherapy session went:
Obviously the nurses need a good vein (i.e., a vein that doesn't collapse) to put the IV in. But it's so much more complicated than that - because of course this is Heidi going through the medical system so of course it can't be smooth sailing. I'm always causing problems somehow, for example, by lying about the status of my veins.
For one of the drugs I'm getting in Part I of chemo (Drug A), it's very important that it not get out of the vein into the surrounding tissue because it can cause permanent tissue damage. I didn't ask for further details b/c I kinda don't want to know. So, Drug A must be administered by the nurse through the IV a bit at a time, not through a drip bag. If the vein collapses, sneaky Drug A will escape and the nurse must stop administering Drug A immediately (so its little friends can't help do larger tissue damage).
Now, the IV can only go in the lower part of the arm - not above the elbow (I forget why). It shouldn't go in the main vein in the arm by the elbow because they want more "meat" around the vein. And because I had lymph nodes removed on the left side, I can never have a needle inserted in that arm again (for fear of developing lymphedema). So we were limited to the lower part of my right arm.
The veins were not showing themselves - apparently my nervousness was rubbing off on them (this is truly what the nurse said). She told me to relax - AH HA HA HA! Funniest thing I had heard since yesterday when my Junior Editor decided to switch to IP/IT instead of employee benefits. You actually think intellectual property and technology will be more exciting than benefits? Ah ha ha ha. Oh darn, you're right. Ok, back to the story.
Also, the room was cold so that made the veins shrink up, too. The nurse put heat packs on my arm and I had to open and close my fist to help coax them out. Finally one of them seemed ready but after a bunch of painful poking she declared that it wasn't good enough for the job. Now she had to find one that was higher than the insertion site and still below the elbow. But none of the other veins were willing to step up and do the right thing. CURSE YOU BAD VEINS!
So what to do? I was freaking out thinking they would send me home to try some other day and I was already emotionally invested in getting the first chemo treatment over with today. A delay would mean more and more anxiety buildup and I didn't think I could handle that. I ironically go from not wanting to have chemo to wanting to have it RIGHT NOW!
It was somewhat of a conundrum. The answer was to pull in the big gun: the nurse with more than 21 years experience. She rubbed my arm and investigated the veins carefully and eventually agreed that none of them was ready. The only possibility was the main vein in the crux of my elbow; the one that has always been used before but was initially rejected for this project due to lack of surrounding "meat" (nurse's term, not mine). Due to her experience it all worked perfectly and we were back on track.
To prevent this from happening during the next 7 treatments, the nurses suggested I get a "port" which is an IV line permanently hooked up under my skin. It requires minor surgery (which I am always against as it involves needles and other nameless, scary-looking medical equipment) for insertion and removal. However, there was another woman who had the same lumpectomy/lymph node removal/chemo treatment in the chemo suite and she had a port. And she was much younger than me. She told me the surgery was no big deal and it was totally worth it. So I think I will actually go for it.
To sum up the lesson from today's events, I urge you all to go figure out whether you have good or bad veins! Just try not to go the chemotherapy route when doing your research.
As to how I'm feeling, so far so good. I'm very tired and have been getting nauseous off and on but it seems to be relieved by eating something. Meanwhile it's only been about 6 hours so we shall see what the days ahead hold for me.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Chemotherapy Update
We visited the oncologist Friday at 10:30. Well, little did we know the appointment would last THREE HOURS! We were bombarded with information and were so hungry by the end that we could barely pay attention.
Anyway, chemo starts on Thursday. I need to go back on Friday to get a shot to boost my white blood cells. Thereafter, I will have 7 more treatments, one every two weeks. So a total of 16 weeks of treatment.
The first 4 will involve two drugs and will cause me to lose my hair, etc. They could also cause permanent damage to my heart. There's so much more to it - I left with 6 prescriptions that must be filled before Thursday. I'll need to give myself the shot the day after to boost the white blood cells - I will get "trained" for that on Friday. Also, I need to have an echocardiogram to make sure my heart is health enough to handle the particular drug cocktail.
Part 2 involves 4 treatments of a different drug. It luckily does not have as many side-effects. The only really bad thing is that some people are allergic to it to the extent that they can't breathe and treatment must immediately cease. It may also cause me to lose my eyelashes and eyebrows.
Well, there's plenty more interesting news where that came from. Suffice it to say that I will be a walking pharmacy for quite a while! I'm trying to digest everything but it's definitely depressing. I have so much more ahead of me. The worst is not over.
Anyway, chemo starts on Thursday. I need to go back on Friday to get a shot to boost my white blood cells. Thereafter, I will have 7 more treatments, one every two weeks. So a total of 16 weeks of treatment.
The first 4 will involve two drugs and will cause me to lose my hair, etc. They could also cause permanent damage to my heart. There's so much more to it - I left with 6 prescriptions that must be filled before Thursday. I'll need to give myself the shot the day after to boost the white blood cells - I will get "trained" for that on Friday. Also, I need to have an echocardiogram to make sure my heart is health enough to handle the particular drug cocktail.
Part 2 involves 4 treatments of a different drug. It luckily does not have as many side-effects. The only really bad thing is that some people are allergic to it to the extent that they can't breathe and treatment must immediately cease. It may also cause me to lose my eyelashes and eyebrows.
Well, there's plenty more interesting news where that came from. Suffice it to say that I will be a walking pharmacy for quite a while! I'm trying to digest everything but it's definitely depressing. I have so much more ahead of me. The worst is not over.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Gearing Up for Chemotherapy
Today I have my appointment with the oncologist. Hopefully I'll have a better idea of what my schedule (and life in general) will be like for the next five months. I'm looking forward to it.
Meanwhile, I've done what I can to prepare. I visited the dentist and had all dental work completed. I visited the eye doctor, found out my eyes have not changed much and ordered new glasses. I got a flu shot.
So I guess I'm ready.
I will post later today with news from the appointment.
Meanwhile, I've done what I can to prepare. I visited the dentist and had all dental work completed. I visited the eye doctor, found out my eyes have not changed much and ordered new glasses. I got a flu shot.
So I guess I'm ready.
I will post later today with news from the appointment.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
The Drain is Out!
I am so happy!
Friday I called asking for an appointment the following week to have the drain taken out. They told me if I could get to the office by 4 pm that day, they could do it. It was a horribly rainy and cold day. It was either stay home nice and dry and suffer through a whole weekend with the drain or venture out into the unpleasant weather. So I rushed to the train and arrived by 2:15.
The nurse told me removing the drain wouldn't hurt and it didn't! I can't believe it! Here I was so worried and even wasted a valium...
My surgeon was also there and wanted to see the scar. She said she's only done that particular type of incision 15 other times and she was interested to see how it looked. She was quite pleased with herself! She got the large tumor, the small benign one and 17 lymph nodes all with just one incision. I will have scarring which you'll be able to see if I wear a tank top but that's no big deal. She's such a nice lady and I also think she did a great job. Her name is Dr. Mary Gemignani - if you ever have need of her services (and I sincerely hope you never will).
I also found out that I saw her and the anesthesiologist before surgery in the OR and was actually talking to them! I have no memory of that. She said they gave me a mild sedative but most people still remember that type of thing - I don't. Also, she clarified that instead of telling me to count backwards from 100 or saying "Let's get started", they just said, "Heidi, we'll take good care of you." I said "Ok" and then I was out. Well, I'm kind of glad I don't remember as much as I could. It's not the kind of thing I care to remember. But it's nice to know that the surgery didn't happen as suddenly as it seemed without any formality.
Friday I called asking for an appointment the following week to have the drain taken out. They told me if I could get to the office by 4 pm that day, they could do it. It was a horribly rainy and cold day. It was either stay home nice and dry and suffer through a whole weekend with the drain or venture out into the unpleasant weather. So I rushed to the train and arrived by 2:15.
The nurse told me removing the drain wouldn't hurt and it didn't! I can't believe it! Here I was so worried and even wasted a valium...
My surgeon was also there and wanted to see the scar. She said she's only done that particular type of incision 15 other times and she was interested to see how it looked. She was quite pleased with herself! She got the large tumor, the small benign one and 17 lymph nodes all with just one incision. I will have scarring which you'll be able to see if I wear a tank top but that's no big deal. She's such a nice lady and I also think she did a great job. Her name is Dr. Mary Gemignani - if you ever have need of her services (and I sincerely hope you never will).
I also found out that I saw her and the anesthesiologist before surgery in the OR and was actually talking to them! I have no memory of that. She said they gave me a mild sedative but most people still remember that type of thing - I don't. Also, she clarified that instead of telling me to count backwards from 100 or saying "Let's get started", they just said, "Heidi, we'll take good care of you." I said "Ok" and then I was out. Well, I'm kind of glad I don't remember as much as I could. It's not the kind of thing I care to remember. But it's nice to know that the surgery didn't happen as suddenly as it seemed without any formality.
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