Chemo day in pictures …
Step one was to have the access placed into my port. This allows the nurse to draw blood for blood tests, but is also used for the infusion of chemo itself.
Since they need to wait for the blood test results, we had about a half hour between the blood draw and the appointment with the oncologist, so we went over for the standard tree picture. This one indicates how I was feeling.
And here is the more typical me with a smile on!
My first reaction came at all the pre-chemo drugs. I’m still not certain what they all were. Three of them were anti-nausea drugs and one is a steroid. I thought we had the print out of what they all were but I cannot find it.
This is the Doxorbicin (or the A in the AC regime). It is administered directly by the nurse. It was followed by Cyclophaphouride (C) which was a 1 hour IV drip. Although the appointment was for five hours, it didn’t take that long. I totally broke down when she brought the tubes of red stuff – but not nearly as much as I expected I would. The emotional breakdowns are inevitable.
This one was actually taken at the beginning while we were waiting for the nurse (notice the IV isn’t hooked up yet). Afterwards I was looking a little on the green side – but not feeling too bad. The steroids wore off at about 3-4 pm and the nausea started to kick in. Hope that ends today!
- Becky
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To have heard your diagnosis was one thing but to see your pictures makes it real. You cry as much as you want to or need to, and scream if you want Becky, it gives you energy to forge ahead.
I do love that smile,reminds me a lot of Brenda Jeanne’s smile .
Up and down must be the hard part:-(
Thanks for the pictures, makes the process feel less threatening (for those of us not in the chair that is). Curious about the “port”, is it a standard IV inlet with a flexible tube inserted into your vein? Somehow I expected a mechanical looking thing like a boat port hole.
Don’t answer this question if don’t want to… You look strong and ready. I wonder how you see this journey turning out? At first you are swept along, detached and almost unconnected to yourself and then the control returns. Going out to the tree for a picture of yourself confused and then the smile. Life again.
In one of my previous posts I described the port. It is a port-o-cath – a catheter into a vein. The port is under my skin, so that I can swim with it in. Now it is just an extra lump just above my right breast, otherwise, I don’t notice it much. The nurses use a special kit to access it – so they access it once at the beginning of the day and use the same line until treatment is done. The whole process is a lot simpler then having them to try to find a vein each time.
Must have missed the posting on the port. Thanks for the answer.
Yay Becky ! Good reporting..you are amazing, and it is so good you are taking us/me through it all with you. I liked the tree picture ( second one) . I was an internal aduitor at one point in my public service career and I appreciate the data … and how you are doing with it all.
You are doing this with intelligence and heart, I am so impressed. Hugs Colleen
I’m pulling for you, Becks. Pffft, cancer. As if that’s tougher than you. Please.