Day 8 - Nov 26, 2012

Today seemed like a whole lot of drama or excitement or flurry of hustle over the act of dripping two very small bags of medication.  Could easily have done this at home and saved all the drama. But it wasn't ALL bad. So, here's the short version.

Because I had a 4 AM departure via taxi, I just avoided going to sleep by doing overdue chores, and got there a little early. Very large hospitals, when empty, seem somehow less than lifeless. The reason for the early shine is that I was having a "PortaCath" device implanted under my collarbone in a day surgery. Easy enough for someone with no attachments, but my catheter bag (cleverly disguised by Wal*Mart bag) wants to flop and tangle and pull itself out when I move from chair to bed to gurney. And if they leave you on the bed to dress, with no wheelchair within reach, well...... Just about every move takes 4 times longer than normal and often some creativity in using "Stick", my cane and constant companion.  Imagine using a cane to put on a sock. Happens all the time here.

The procedure was apparently simple and quick. I awoke elsewhere, grateful for the sleep. The Porta Cath was implanted to facilitate chemo drips, blood draws, etc. I am a notoriously horrid stick for blood draws and IVs with many bruises to prove the point. They dance and scream and run around when they see a needle. So this dzugyi can be accessed any time by most anyone with a needle. A small reservoir under the bone but protruding at the surface, with an attached tube running into a large vein just above the heart. Perfect for mainlining. So after 12 hours, the small (1.5") incision hurts and stings a little, but that should be gone within a day or two.. I will be sooooo glad to get rid of these IV lines and their daily flushing ritual. Another half hour to an hour I really don't have to spare. But onward.

I used Kabat-Zinn's mindfulness meditation several times during this adventure. Mostly, when I found my neck and shoulder muscles tensed to the point they could not be relaxed by pulling or kneading. Tension gone in less than a minute. Needed three tries to make it gone altogether. What nice relief.

The chemo treatment room was SRO today. Literally, there were people standing around waiting for one of the thirty treatment chairs to be open. All very friendly. I now I soon saw why. Lunch!!!!  A daily ritual, somebody brings in boxes of a hundred or so sandwiches, a box of chips and crackers, a box of Little Debbie snack desserts and a box of drinks. It takes five kids to make the rounds in a line, several times and be sure everyone, patient and staff, does not leave hungry.  You can argue the ethics of passing out less than healthy food, but you cannot argue that it gets people to their appointments on time. Same doses as last time. Small bag of anti-nausea liquid, medium bag of Gemcitabine, less than an hour with the pump running.

Then, Ben, my occasional volunteer driver, brought me home to Bud, who started doing backflips for treats and demanded to go out to play "Let's Be Idiots".  Great fun, actually.

And there it is. If you are approaching a chemo regimen. My only advice at this point is ask and read. Best bet, by far is your physician, like it or not. The information could mean the difference in your treatment results. Best of luck to you.

b.