One down, seven to go

Last Wednesday, I had the first of eight chemo treatments. So, every two weeks, this will be my routine.

But, wait, first I had to get the port implanted. I think the scheduling department dropped the ball because I ended up getting my port implanted on Tuesday, and started chemo the next day. It was outpatient surgery at UW, I was in at 7:00 AM, out by 1:30 PM. Things went well and now I have a little lump (bot fly) under my skin on the right side of my chest. The crappiest part is, that after being able to finally play tennis after my last surgery, now I have to wait two weeks to play again. One step forward, three steps backwards. Which, is kind of like my playing, three bad shots, one good shot.

I am very lucky that a friend of mine, Stephanie, a nurse and a breast cancer survivor, offered to spend the day with me during my first chemo treatment. A blood draw is the first step, but since a nurse had not removed the dressing, I got the standard in the arm jab. Then, I had an hour to kill until the results got to the doctor.

David and I discovered a great place near SCCA that is now open for lunch, Blind Pig Teriyaki at Eastlake. I've been wanting to eat at Blind Pig Bistro, but haven't been able to get there at night. I was able to pick up some gumbo before my appointments so I had something good for lunch. They do have a 'nutrition' center in the infusion area - if you consider Campbell's soup, Lorna Donne cookies and sodas nutrition. They do what they can, they can not maintain anything fresh, plus there's the issue of contamination from bacteria, and I am sure for some people this is a god-send. I wanted gumbo, and I got it! Stopping here will be on my agenda either before or after my treatments!

Now, where was I? At this point the doctor has the test results and you meet with them to get your vitals taken and talk about things such as what to expect and side effects. Then you go back to the waiting area to get assigned to a chemo station and a nurse. 

Once you get ushered into your station, the fun begins. Some tape or adhesive from the surgery had irritated my skin to the point that it took them a while to remove the dressing and then figure out how to anchor the IV access for the port. Now, I settle in for the duration. First comes some steroids, then an anti-nausea drug and then two of the three chemo therapies, Leucovorin and Oxaliplatin. To finish, I get a blast of Fluorouracil and then the tag along pump to administer more over the next 46 hours. After being there for six hours, I was on my way with my not-so-little fanny-pack buddy. We went everywhere for the next couple of days, except to the shower. Sponge baths and dry shampoo will be de rigueur. Bonus - I was given a hazard spill kit to carry around in case of an accident!

The next morning I immediately felt one of the side effects: neuropathy and cold sensitivity. I went out to fill the bird feeder and the tips of my fingers started tingling like they had fallen asleep. Over the next couple of days it was uncomfortable to take anything out of the refrigerator. The sensation lessened over the week, but I've heard that some people's throats close up even when they just open the refrigerator door. Guess I'll be heading to REI for some warm gloves this winter!

To get disconnected on Friday, I had to sit and wait until the pump administered the full dose. Then the access got plucked from my chest and a band aid gets stuck on. (Removing it later was fun.)
Afterwards, I had a slight issue with nausea but was able to control it with one of the anti-nausea drugs they gave me.

Like I said, one down; seven to go.