Thursday 24th February
Hannah asked me the other day what were the worst bits about chemo, so here they are.
Throwing up - for obvious reasons
Food tasting like cardboard - this coupled with the vague feeling of nausea makes eating a real chore. Even water tastes slightly muddy. About the only thing that tastes like it should are Honey Nut Cheerios. Fortunately the cardboard taste tends to fade after a couple of weeks.
Madly fluctuating body temperature - I seem to spend my days either freezing, huddled up under a blanket with a hot water bottle, or throwing of clothes, blankets, duvets and the like sweating like the proverbial pig. I never feel comfortable, temperature wise.
Pain - my right arm feels as though it has been passed through a mangle. The pain from collapsing veins is akin to very severe bruising. Currently my wrist feels as is I have sprained is and moving my hand in any direction hurts. Given that I am very right handed, this makes doing every day things much more laborious, even putting washing in the machine hurts.
My body not feeling like my own - I have bitten the inside of my mouth more in the last six months than in the previous six years. I think this is down to the fact that the inside of my mouth, especially my teeth do not feel like I think they used to. This is also linked to the cardboard taste as food does not feel the same in my mouth as it used to. My body also suddenly stops, I can be walking along quite happily and then a sudden and overwhelming wave of fatigue will engulf me. There is nothing I can do to overcome this other than stop.
Dried up mucous membranes - in the morning before I even open my eyes I have to wiggle them around so I can open my eyes without much pain. I have to unstick my tongue and lips from my gums and drink some water to lubricate my throat. I think this lack of moisture may also exacerbate the dry retching as sticking my tongue out more than a couple of millimetres feels the same as sticking your finger down your throat. Also I have noticed that I appear to have been suffering from a mild but chronic nose bleed. I suspect this is because the inside of my nose, which is also now hairless, has so little protection from the elements that it is effectively "chapped".
Generally I feel as though my life and body are not my own. Everything has to take my treatment into account. I realise that this is all for my own benefit but it is a little wearing after a while. I am having a few weeks off from stuff at the hospital, although I have to go for two heart tests to make sure I'm well enough for the next stage of my treatment.
I am really looking forward to the end of my treatment, which entails another 6 to 12 months of intravenous herceptin, if only because I really am totally fed up with people sticking needles in my right arm!
Thursday, 24 February 2011
The Morning After The Night Before
Wednesday 16th February
I wake after a fitful night feeling and probably looking like Quasimodo. The pain from my shoulder/neck actually makes walking difficult.
My appointment is at 1pm and as per usual we arrive in plenty of time. I sit and wait fully expecting to have to have another blood test and then be sent home.
The nurse asks to weigh me. This is a good sign. Apparently my neutrophils are up to 2.43 which just goes to show you never can tell!
The session goes off without a hitch although I am generally more concerned about the pain from my shoulder. Then that's it, it's done. No more chemo - EVER!!!
In spite of being given copious quantities of anti-emetics I still throw up a lot.
I also throw up the next morning, which as you can appreciate was really grotty as there was nothing to throw up. I seem to suffer from dry retching more this time than ever before.
The problem with the last chemo is that people seem to think that I am fine immediately, however, it will be a good 3 to 4 weeks before I start feeling normal again and possibly my hair growing back.
I wake after a fitful night feeling and probably looking like Quasimodo. The pain from my shoulder/neck actually makes walking difficult.
My appointment is at 1pm and as per usual we arrive in plenty of time. I sit and wait fully expecting to have to have another blood test and then be sent home.
The nurse asks to weigh me. This is a good sign. Apparently my neutrophils are up to 2.43 which just goes to show you never can tell!
The session goes off without a hitch although I am generally more concerned about the pain from my shoulder. Then that's it, it's done. No more chemo - EVER!!!
In spite of being given copious quantities of anti-emetics I still throw up a lot.
I also throw up the next morning, which as you can appreciate was really grotty as there was nothing to throw up. I seem to suffer from dry retching more this time than ever before.
The problem with the last chemo is that people seem to think that I am fine immediately, however, it will be a good 3 to 4 weeks before I start feeling normal again and possibly my hair growing back.
The End Is Nigh
Tuesday 15th February
Today is the day of the final blood test. The staff at the blood clinic would certainly win awards for getting blood out of a stone, it would certainly be easier than trying to get it out of me!
The squeamish may wish to look away now.
She sticks the very small, baby needle in my arm and pulls on the syringe plunger. (The usual vacuum blood collector things cannot be used as they rely on some internal pressure of which I have none.) Little or no blood comes out, she wiggles the needle around and tries again, a little more blood comes, more wiggling and pulling and little by little enough blood is extracted together with a lot of bubbles!
I am convinced that, given I have spent the last fortnight feeling like death warmed up with a monumental cough and cold, my neutrophils will be too low and I won't be given chemo.
Later that night I am sitting quietly watching the TV when I develop suddenly the worst stiff neck ever. The pain radiates from the back of my left shoulder down my arm up my neck to the back of my head and even gives me a throbbing earache! I don't sleep well that night mainly because of the pain from my shoulder/neck and also because for the first time I am anxious about tomorrow's chemo.
Today is the day of the final blood test. The staff at the blood clinic would certainly win awards for getting blood out of a stone, it would certainly be easier than trying to get it out of me!
The squeamish may wish to look away now.
She sticks the very small, baby needle in my arm and pulls on the syringe plunger. (The usual vacuum blood collector things cannot be used as they rely on some internal pressure of which I have none.) Little or no blood comes out, she wiggles the needle around and tries again, a little more blood comes, more wiggling and pulling and little by little enough blood is extracted together with a lot of bubbles!
I am convinced that, given I have spent the last fortnight feeling like death warmed up with a monumental cough and cold, my neutrophils will be too low and I won't be given chemo.
Later that night I am sitting quietly watching the TV when I develop suddenly the worst stiff neck ever. The pain radiates from the back of my left shoulder down my arm up my neck to the back of my head and even gives me a throbbing earache! I don't sleep well that night mainly because of the pain from my shoulder/neck and also because for the first time I am anxious about tomorrow's chemo.
Monday, 7 February 2011
Machines and Menopause
Monday 7th February
You will note that once again there has been a long gap between postings. This is because firstly, as stated before, chemotherapy is nothing if not monotonous and secondly I have been quite poorly, more of which later.
So the penultimate session. I arrive and there is no one there, the temptation to simply run away was overwhelming, but I didn't.
Previously the chemotherapy is injected into a cannula by the nurse. This time however I was attached to a pump into which the nurse attached the syringes and the pump mixes the drugs with the saline and then pumped it into me.
This had a very pleasant result in that previously when the first few milliliters of the drug were pumped in by the nurse I was overcome by a huge wave of nausea, although I never actually threw up and once the first bit was in the rest went in without any effect. Using the pump I had absolutely no nausea at all, which was nice!
My two days after were spent doing the usual of sleeping, eating and taking various anti-emetics and steroids. In fact I felt so well that on Friday I almost felt as though I could have gone into work. But I quickly dismissed this idea. In general I felt much better than previously although this may have had something to do with the fact that I am now on three different anti-emetics! Unfortunately one of the side effects of anti-emetics is that not only do they stop stuff coming out of the top they also stop stuff coming out of the bottom!!! More dried fruit and psyllium husks! Normal service was resumed within about 4 days!!!
Monday (31st) I started to feel that I was going down with another cold. I wasn't too bothered as the one I had had over Christmas wasn't that bad, however by the evening I was feeling particularly grotty and decided that I wouldn't go to yoga the following day.
Tuesday was spent in bed feeling particularly sorry for myself. By this time I had not slept properly since the previous Tuesday and my throat was beginning to feel as though I had gargled with broken glass and acid. So I spent the whole day wallowing in self-pity and trying to catch up on a little sleep. I reckon that having a minor breakdown once every six months isn't too bad! By Wednesday, whilst my cold wasn't much better my general mental well being was much improved.
On the whole my sleep has been appalling. This is down to several things, my cold, insomnia and the glory which are hot flushes!!! Chemotherapy puts you into the menopause with a vengeance. So far the only symptoms have been the hot flushes. They are however most annoying. I find that I also appear to be suffering from cold flushes. My body temperature is never stable. Whilst cold flushes are much easier to deal with, I just wrap up or snuggle down until they pass, hot flushes are a completely different kettle of fish. My head feels as though a thousand pointy footed ants are marching across my head, and no amount of fanning or removal of clothes alleviates the symptoms. If I am asleep it wakes me up and I have to throw off all the bedclothes and lie spread eagled until it passes and then I feel really cold so I have to throw on all the bedclothes. This can happen up to 3 or 4 times a night so you can see why I haven't been sleeping too well recently. What is possibly the most irritating aspect of hot flushes is that they occur much more frequently during the night than during the day, for every hot flush I have during the day I will have at least three after 8pm, which isn't too bad if I am up and awake but a pain in the proverbial if I am not.
Assuming that my cold does not prevent my next chemotherapy session going ahead as scheduled, you should all hear a very loud sigh of relief on Wednesday 16th February.
You will note that once again there has been a long gap between postings. This is because firstly, as stated before, chemotherapy is nothing if not monotonous and secondly I have been quite poorly, more of which later.
So the penultimate session. I arrive and there is no one there, the temptation to simply run away was overwhelming, but I didn't.
Previously the chemotherapy is injected into a cannula by the nurse. This time however I was attached to a pump into which the nurse attached the syringes and the pump mixes the drugs with the saline and then pumped it into me.
This had a very pleasant result in that previously when the first few milliliters of the drug were pumped in by the nurse I was overcome by a huge wave of nausea, although I never actually threw up and once the first bit was in the rest went in without any effect. Using the pump I had absolutely no nausea at all, which was nice!
My two days after were spent doing the usual of sleeping, eating and taking various anti-emetics and steroids. In fact I felt so well that on Friday I almost felt as though I could have gone into work. But I quickly dismissed this idea. In general I felt much better than previously although this may have had something to do with the fact that I am now on three different anti-emetics! Unfortunately one of the side effects of anti-emetics is that not only do they stop stuff coming out of the top they also stop stuff coming out of the bottom!!! More dried fruit and psyllium husks! Normal service was resumed within about 4 days!!!
Monday (31st) I started to feel that I was going down with another cold. I wasn't too bothered as the one I had had over Christmas wasn't that bad, however by the evening I was feeling particularly grotty and decided that I wouldn't go to yoga the following day.
Tuesday was spent in bed feeling particularly sorry for myself. By this time I had not slept properly since the previous Tuesday and my throat was beginning to feel as though I had gargled with broken glass and acid. So I spent the whole day wallowing in self-pity and trying to catch up on a little sleep. I reckon that having a minor breakdown once every six months isn't too bad! By Wednesday, whilst my cold wasn't much better my general mental well being was much improved.
On the whole my sleep has been appalling. This is down to several things, my cold, insomnia and the glory which are hot flushes!!! Chemotherapy puts you into the menopause with a vengeance. So far the only symptoms have been the hot flushes. They are however most annoying. I find that I also appear to be suffering from cold flushes. My body temperature is never stable. Whilst cold flushes are much easier to deal with, I just wrap up or snuggle down until they pass, hot flushes are a completely different kettle of fish. My head feels as though a thousand pointy footed ants are marching across my head, and no amount of fanning or removal of clothes alleviates the symptoms. If I am asleep it wakes me up and I have to throw off all the bedclothes and lie spread eagled until it passes and then I feel really cold so I have to throw on all the bedclothes. This can happen up to 3 or 4 times a night so you can see why I haven't been sleeping too well recently. What is possibly the most irritating aspect of hot flushes is that they occur much more frequently during the night than during the day, for every hot flush I have during the day I will have at least three after 8pm, which isn't too bad if I am up and awake but a pain in the proverbial if I am not.
Assuming that my cold does not prevent my next chemotherapy session going ahead as scheduled, you should all hear a very loud sigh of relief on Wednesday 16th February.
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