Some of the older generation may recognise the title reference to 'TW3' - which was a rdaio show called 'That was the week that was'. And my, yes it was a week indeed.
On Monday 8 February my hospital appointment was for 10am, in Ipswich. The chemo services have moved from Ipswich Hospital to the local Nuffield, and the journey was magical. Thankfully we have a truck - and living in a forest it makes a lot of sense. The truck was covered in snow but started and, even though the roads were frequently snow laden and drifts meant the going (even on the A12) was sometimes slippy, we reached our destination safely. The Nuffield in Ipswich is on the Foxhall Road, in a dip in the countryside, the the lane up to the hospital was truly a fairyland.
Sheena dropped me off (and stayed in the car, no point going home again in this weather) and I went in to receive my first chemotherapy. It was relatively simple, with the saline flushes first, then the first of the two drugs added intravenously through my PICC line. I started the chemo at around 12, and it took about two hours. The second stage was the application of my pump - a small plastic torus with a liquid centre that would slowly dispense the chemo into my PICC (and into my system) over the next 48 hours. My pump was slipped into a belt around my waist, and the line went under my shirt to where it connected to the PICC in my upper arm.
I felt a bit weird, a bit sick and tingly, but nothing like as bad as I'd thought I might be. These chemos affect your sensitivity to cold, so having it during a snow week was somewhat poor timing on my part. After a while, to ensure no drastic reactions, I was able to go home with Sheena. I'd been there from 10am until around 2pm - so a packed lunch had been handy.
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| Occupying time during chemo |
Sleeping with the pump and the PICC and, of course, my stoma, was a little uncomfortable, but I was very tired so didn't do too bad. Tuesday I felt tired and had a very bad headache, and my fingers - if they got the slightest cold - tingled and hurt. I managed a snowy walk but by Tuesday evening I was feeling awful. Sick, headache, exhausted.
Wednesday I had to go back to the hospital to have the pump removed. It had nicely filled me with all it's contents. The roads were slightly better, but it was still a truck-worthy journey. On the Friday, we returned again to complete Sheena's 'line training'. She changed my PICC dressing, cleaned the line (took some blood and flushed with saline) and I nearly passed out. I went all dizzy - not sure if it was because it was Sheena doing it, or just because it was the culmination of a hell of a week.
The week was not easy - sick feeling, no energy, and no ability to concentrate. And diarrhea. It's probably easier to manage with a stoma, but nonetheless it was not fun. They often say you can't describe chemo exhaustion until you've felt it, and now I know first hand what that means. I spent most of the week either asleep or resting, or feeling listless and sick.
However, I do believe it could have been worse (and may yet still be, I know), so I'm going to look at the positive. I was not actually sick, and though my fingers are still tingly (and I have to keep warm), I'm doing OK. Today I've started to do normal things again and don't feel like quite such a useless lump. It does make me remember how Sheena was during her chemotherapy too - hers was a much nastier concoction, and the side effects worse. And I know she doesn't remember quite how it was - she just remembers how much she had to fight to keep going. So I'll focus on that - I know I'm going to forget the worst bits, and start putting up more of a fight.
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