Today was day 1 of chemotherapy. As I walk into the room it’s another realization of what I’m dealing with, what the others in the room with me are dealing with and an appreciation for all those that have already taken this journey. I went in with a positive attitude, it’s all I feel like I can control at the moment. Walking into the ‘chemotherapy’ room though sucked most of my good juju out. It’s a room about the size of a school classroom with recliners strategically placed so they can fit as many patients in as possible. Rows, semi-circles. Some recliners, not all, have an additional chair next to them for their guest to sit with them. It’s a tight fit. I’d say there were about 20 recliners, all but two of them filled. It made our choice easier to decide where to sit. As I look around I’m the youngest person there, by at least 15 years.
I’m so thankful to have Brian with me on my first chemo round. He asked questions I didn’t think of and we learned the process together. He is my everything and will do anything for me. As I would for him.
First things first. They need to connect to my port. So weird. It literally feels like they’ve plugged in their iphone charger. Fully charged!
They take labs and then the Dr. has to decide if everything looks well enough to receive the chemo. If labs are off, they will not allow you to get your treatment. I’m a “GO”. Next are the pre-meds. Anti-nausea, steroid and Benadryl (maybe)? They’ve also got me hooked up to a hydration bag. You think you drink alot of water? Wow… the need to stay hydrated times 10 is what’s happening here. It’s a miracle I didn’t pee my pants. After meds they start it… The “Red Devil”. Doctors call it Doxorubicin, but I prefer “Red Devil” as it’s been told me from other survivors. They call it that for the medicine color (that’s not my blood in those tubes) and also because of the side effects. This is the medicine that can cause nausea, headaches, dizziness, sores in the mouth, fever or chills, need I go on?
Up next is Cyclophosphamide (AC). Pretty much same side effects, but without the name, I guess. All things you learn. As I mentioned before, hydrating is a huge part of chemotherapy treatment. Did you know that once you have the medicine in you, you’re hydrating yourself so that you can then get rid of the toxins? Yep, that was a first for me. The first 48-72 hours is the time to pee out all the toxins and when I say ‘toxins’, I mean toxins. For example, when I pee (which was pink by the way because of Red Devil, you’re welcome for that knowledge) I need to close the toilet and fully flush twice. It’s for the safety of the rest of the family if I’m sharing the bathroom with them. I can’t help but sing the Imagine Dragons song, Radioactive, in my head every time I pee now.
For the most part everything went really well, I felt fine during the treatment. BUT WAIT!!! Just because you’re leaving the cancer center, doesn’t mean they don’t want to follow you. Yes ladies and gentlemen, before I leave I get a parting gift. They put a skin patch on my arm, kinda like a nicotine patch, without nicotine. It’s placed on my arm and then magically pricks me to install a small catheter. You heard that correct. Tomorrow, at approximately 5:00pm, which is about 27 hours from the time it’s activated, it will inject another medicine into me. This is to stimulate the growth of new, healthy, white blood cells. Seriously, can’t make this shit up. So I’m rocking a NON-nicotine patch for the next day.
Again, for the most part I feel well. I can totally drive myself to and from chemo if I want. And to be honest, it might what I want. ME.
It’s 3 hours since I finished my first treatment, I’m feeling queasy and tired with a minor headache. It’s not ideal, but if this was the worst, I’ll be fine. I have a feeling it will get worse before better and I’ll take it day by day, or hour by hour. Zofran is on-hand. Sometimes you don’t realize how strong you’ll be until you’re faced with being strong. Fu@K Cancer. Thank you for letting me share my experiences so far. Don’t forget to check your boobies.
Stay strong Katie!!! Thinking and praying for you. I hope the side effects of chemo aren’t too bad.
Katie, you’ve got a great attitude and you will really need it. My brother finished 8 months of chemo for pancreatic cancer in January, it kicked his ass but he made it through. It’s amazing how strong he was/is. He like you has a great family and friend support system, and he finally realized how important it was to take advantage of all help and assistance. My wife Donna had a single mastectomy and reconstruction (latissimus dorsi flap) last year October. She continues to have adjustments every 4-6 months. This after 8 years of cancer free after a lumpectomy and radiation. I too am a cancer survivor, though all things considered seems rather a small deal (prostate cancer) caught early and had Cyber knife targeted radiation. Take any and all help offered and don’t be afraid to ask for help with everything. My prayers, good thoughts and good mojo are with you. Thank you for being open about your cancer and bringing it out in the open, the more people know about cancer the better. I applaud you for talking openly and sharing. My wife is not like that, she is extremely private and just can’t/won’t talk outside the immediate family and even that is difficult. Hang in there my friend, stay strong and positive. dave
Thank you for sharing ALL of that. Everyone’s journey is different, especially with different types of cancers I’d imagine. When I came out, I did get a handful of messages of women I had personal connections with tell me they went through the same. I was like, “what?!?” But again, everyone is different. However anyone chooses to go through their cancer journey, the goal is become a #survivor. You’ve got them in your family and they have that in you!
I’ll be soon to follow. Until then, I want to continue to be public, make people laugh, maybe bring knowledge and ease stress for those about to start. Tears may also be involved. #survivor
Katie,
I hope that by sharing the details of your journey you will see just how incredibly strong you are.
Thanks for sharing your story.
Take care and stay well.
Karen B
Zofran will be your new best friend. With your attitude, your support group keeping you strong, you have half the battle fought. I understand the beed and want of alone time. Think carefully about driving yourself. Especially if it is along distance. Over time, you might not feel like driving home.
True. My center is only 5 miles away, no “main” roads.
Katie you are my little warrior. I don’t know why you were picked to have this rotten health issue, maybe to save others. Hurts bad to see our little girl do this fight. But we know you have the strength to kick it’s ass. Love you so much. Let’s win the battles and the war .♥️
Katie, This process is so similar to what I had done. Different drugs but same feelings that I had. I didn’t get the patch —my insurance wouldn’t cover it UGH—–But my insurance WOULD allow me to drive all the way back to the hospital the next day for a shot! SO stupid. Keep your eyes on the end! It will be here before you know it. Stay positive!
Thank you for sharing! Insurance is so dumb sometimes. Hope you’re doing well now. #survivor
Then be careful on those country roads alone as long as you can. Know when you need a copilot and continue to be a great example to all walking this walk.
Sending prayers 🙏 Stay strong 💪
Happy thoughts. Don’t forget to eat. No matter how unhungry you are. Chilled Boost is a go-to protein drink.