Kickin' it with cancer (Herceptin Fundraiser): Chemotherapy

Showing posts with label Chemotherapy. Show all posts

05 May 2008

Tomorrow Tomorrow

With much pride I will announce at reception tomorrow "Hi I'm Sarvs Falefitu and I have chemo today" and I will wait happily for as long as it takes.
When my oncology nurse calls me from the waiting room at Daystay Oncology I will float to my designated bed or lazy boy.
When I am asked to soak my arm in hot hot water I will grit, bear and soak longer than normal grinning from ear to ear.
If my oncology nurse has trouble finding a good vein I will remember the white sands and blue clear waters of Savai'i back in 2005.
Time will not bother me in the slightest tomorrow even if chemo takes longer than normal and I get caught in the traffic on the way home. I will take it all in my stride.

I haven't thought much about tomorrow since January 15 2008 and right now I feel like a child ready to board a plane for a holiday.
Tomorrow has taken a long time to get here.

Tomorrow I will have my last chemo treatment, ever. It's enough to rip me nightie and enough to make me cry. ROLL ON TOMORROW!!!

20 March 2008

I am FECing it now...

My cousin's wife Lizzie who is heavily pregnant was my companion for chemo cocktail number 4. It was a mini girls day out catching up in between flicking through gossip mags, munching on lollies and nuts, drinking coffee, laughing, texting, looking at photos and swapping hilarious hen's night stories - the normal things gals do when they get together except we're at the Cancer and Blood Services, Day Stay Oncology Unit. It was perfect that morning having Lizzie there as the morning started off badly. Soaking my arm in hot water twice I knew that it wouldn't be smooth sailing. The first attempt at finding a vein was very painful, it was like someone had crawled into my arm and was hammering the lure through my very thin collapsed vein with force; the second attempt was still painful except no lingering hammering. Fifteen minutes later we discover the saline isn't getting through my vein but we persevere because I didn't want another attempt at finding another. I should've just let Beth find another then as ten minutes after administering the first of five chemo syringes we have to stop, pull out the lure and call another nurse in to find another decent vein to be able to continue with the FECing regime. They have a unwritten law in oncology, two attempts only and then call another nurse. The second nurse Roz strikes it lucky on the first attempt and finally I can get FECing.
For the FEC regime, there's three syringes of Fluorouracil (red drug), then two syringes of Epirubicin (clear drug) . These drugs are manually administered very slowly by Beth via the lure. It's then finished off with a full bag of Cyclophosphamide which is done via IV. I belched through most of the chemo which I found out was normal with this regime..so lady like, NOT!
Immediately after I literally felt drunk (or drugged), the fatigue and the nausea settled in and each time I would get up I was dizzy. This continued through to day two.
Premeds are taken slightly different with this regime too. Day two after chemo you start your lovely array of steriods and continue for four days. I feel like a high as a kite African elephant calf climbing the walls (ghastly sight and of course absolutely impossible but never under estimate the effects of steriods...!). Tomorrow I will probably be a depressed calf stomping round throwing my weight around (and there is a lot of that lately). Day after that I will be moody as heck and everyone will want to avoid me and then I will start getting all paranoid and start crying that nobody loves me anymore...blah blah blah. Then the day after that I will probably be as high as a kite, slightly depressed, moody as heck, paranoid and an absolutely exhausted FECing woman going through chemo - all this on top of the fatigue, nausea and dizziness. I could be wrong....we play it by ear but I am mean who FECing knows.

15 January 2008

First Chemo Cocktail

It's sweltering outside but there's a chill in the air in one particular vehicle from the passengers side as it speeds down the motorway to make a 10:15am 'chemotherapy' appointment. The clock reads 10:06am.

At 10:11am the vehicle is parked up and the morning then becomes history as a relieved but rather frazzled virgin chemo cancer patient enters the Cancer and Blood Centre, Auckland Hospital. One soy chai latte later (the things you give up and take up after cancer) I'm standing with my hand soaking in a tub of hot water - as hot as one can take. This softens the skin and helps the oncology nurse (Elaine) find a nice vein. Two attempts later and we are in much to my relief.

Basically one is wired up to a drip for as long as it takes to get the chemo drugs flushed through your body. Hubby and I left almost 5 hours after we arrived.

At the minute (an english expression Elaine uses frequently) the side effects are tolerable - sore joints, mild and short bouts of nausea, stomach pains, swollen feet and arm and tiredness.

My bed was opposite a mature gentleman who has throat cancer and has to have treatment 3 times weekly so I am not complaining about my treatment just stating facts.

Rating: it would have to be 10/10. I was given first class treatment in the public system. It really is the people at Cancer and Blood Centre, Auckland Hospital that make all the difference.

Thanks Elaine, Georgia & Donna for making my first chemo cocktail a breeze and to hubby for putting up with me...LOL!!!