Cycle 1 round 2: you win some, you lose some
My second chemo treatment was last Wednesday, April 15, and I'm happy to say it went pretty well. In fact, significantly better than the first time. It helps to be familiar with how things go of course. But even more importantly, the PICC line made the infusion so much more comfortable.
I was pretty anxious to get the PICC line installed. It's essentially a catheter that dangles out my left arm and connects up a vein all the way just above my heart. I think I hyper-focused on it as a coping mechanism - something tangible and gross to worry about that's less personal than the cancer in me. But after the disturbing experience searching for suitable veins in my first treatment and the subsequent pains and stiffness in my arm that lasted more than a week (and bruises still to show!), I warmed up to the idea.
The insertion procedure was pretty painless. Just a little sting from the anesthesia in my arm. I was laying in the middle of a large operation room with an x-ray over my chest. Nearly immediately on a big screen TV, you could see the line approaching my heart. I have to admit, it was pretty cool to see a live x-ray of my chest. The doctor confirmed it was in position and bandaged it up, et voila! Less than 15 minutes in total.
Now instead of sitting around with heating pads on my arms looking for an accessible vein, it's just a matter of connecting to the PICC. The chemo's diluted straight into fast-moving veins so it really eliminated the pain of the infusion. I didn't even feel the 'D' which seemed to nearly burn my right arm off from the inside the first time. Saved a good hour and a half of infusion time too since we didn't have to slow down the drip to manage the pain! Win, win, win.
Unfortunately though, my white blood cell counts were already battered from the first round of chemo, wiping out my body's ability to stave off infections. In order to keep my treatment on schedule and to boost white blood cell production, my hematologist put me straight on Neulasta. Under normal circumstances, a nurse would come to my house the day after chemotherapy to inject me. But these are no normal circumstances and they're not offering at-home care. Instead, the nurses set me up with an 'on-body injector' that they programmed to inject the shot 27 hours later.
While it seems to be a pretty well-established contraption, it seems new for the oncology department here. I got to be their proefkonijn, or guinea pig: I had three chemo nurses reading the instructions and figuring it out on me...staring at me in anticipation after they activated it and stuck it to the back of my right arm. After two minutes of nervously chatting, the needle in it finally punctured my skin with a loud 'clap' that startled us all! And that was that. Just had to wait until the next day when it would inject the medicine through that needle and I could remove it.
Overall, Chemo 1B is similar to 1A. The Sunday dip wasn't as intense this time as we tweaked my steroid schedule to let me down more gently. But I also felt more tired and blah nearly immediately this cycle. The jaw pain persists is nearly constant but it never flared up as intensely as in the first cycle. I've also been taking Tylenol regularly so maybe that helps. The much-feared bone pain from the Neulasta hasn't really weighed me down - at least not yet. I just feel a random deep ache here and there in my femur, my arm, my hip, or my lower back, but nothing more.
Today's one of those slow, unpleasant days, but it feels a little good because it's better than the day before. Here's hoping that I'll keep getting better every day the coming week and have a few 'normal' days again before Cycle 2 begins!
I was pretty anxious to get the PICC line installed. It's essentially a catheter that dangles out my left arm and connects up a vein all the way just above my heart. I think I hyper-focused on it as a coping mechanism - something tangible and gross to worry about that's less personal than the cancer in me. But after the disturbing experience searching for suitable veins in my first treatment and the subsequent pains and stiffness in my arm that lasted more than a week (and bruises still to show!), I warmed up to the idea.
The insertion procedure was pretty painless. Just a little sting from the anesthesia in my arm. I was laying in the middle of a large operation room with an x-ray over my chest. Nearly immediately on a big screen TV, you could see the line approaching my heart. I have to admit, it was pretty cool to see a live x-ray of my chest. The doctor confirmed it was in position and bandaged it up, et voila! Less than 15 minutes in total.
Now instead of sitting around with heating pads on my arms looking for an accessible vein, it's just a matter of connecting to the PICC. The chemo's diluted straight into fast-moving veins so it really eliminated the pain of the infusion. I didn't even feel the 'D' which seemed to nearly burn my right arm off from the inside the first time. Saved a good hour and a half of infusion time too since we didn't have to slow down the drip to manage the pain! Win, win, win.
Unfortunately though, my white blood cell counts were already battered from the first round of chemo, wiping out my body's ability to stave off infections. In order to keep my treatment on schedule and to boost white blood cell production, my hematologist put me straight on Neulasta. Under normal circumstances, a nurse would come to my house the day after chemotherapy to inject me. But these are no normal circumstances and they're not offering at-home care. Instead, the nurses set me up with an 'on-body injector' that they programmed to inject the shot 27 hours later.
While it seems to be a pretty well-established contraption, it seems new for the oncology department here. I got to be their proefkonijn, or guinea pig: I had three chemo nurses reading the instructions and figuring it out on me...staring at me in anticipation after they activated it and stuck it to the back of my right arm. After two minutes of nervously chatting, the needle in it finally punctured my skin with a loud 'clap' that startled us all! And that was that. Just had to wait until the next day when it would inject the medicine through that needle and I could remove it.
Overall, Chemo 1B is similar to 1A. The Sunday dip wasn't as intense this time as we tweaked my steroid schedule to let me down more gently. But I also felt more tired and blah nearly immediately this cycle. The jaw pain persists is nearly constant but it never flared up as intensely as in the first cycle. I've also been taking Tylenol regularly so maybe that helps. The much-feared bone pain from the Neulasta hasn't really weighed me down - at least not yet. I just feel a random deep ache here and there in my femur, my arm, my hip, or my lower back, but nothing more.
Today's one of those slow, unpleasant days, but it feels a little good because it's better than the day before. Here's hoping that I'll keep getting better every day the coming week and have a few 'normal' days again before Cycle 2 begins!
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