I haven't been on the computer much since Tuesday - well I haven't really done anything since Tuesday. Since the infusion of one of my chemotherapy drugs on Tuesday I've been feeling poorly. I've slept almost constantly for the next few days after the infusion. This chemo goes straight to my bones to combat the cancer and it causes a lot of pain. Imagine the hulk inside of all your bones pushing from the inside out trying to break free. Then add in some sharp, stabbing, knife-like muscle spasms and intense throbbing, aching pains in all of my joints that make it nearly impossible to even sit up on my own. A stomach so upset even the mention of food makes me nauseous, excruciating jaw pain that shoots from my jaw up into my head causing a terrible, debilitating headache. Imagine the worst case of the flu you've ever had and multiply it. By a million. That's how this chemo makes me feel. How does this chemo enter my body? Through my surgically implanted power-port; which is basically a small reservoir under my skin that is connected to a line that goes directly into my heart. Because of the volume of medication, chemotherapy, blood products, etc. that we must receive intravenously, it is a much more permanent and safe option than a regular IV that they would normally use. In order to use this port they must access it.
The needle they use on me is 1 1/2 inches long and larger in diameter than a regular needle. The diameter would be closer to a nail, I guess. The nurses have to try to find the port under the skin by pressing with their fingers - mine is near impossible to find because of the ample tissue in my chest.
Once the needle is in they check to see if it is indeed in the port by flushing it with saline and checking for a blood return. If they don't get it, on goes the game of pulling the needle out partially and moving it around to try to get it in the right place. Because if it's not in the right spot it could be dangerous, not to mention painful. Does it hurt to have them stick an inch and a half needle into my chest? Yes. Yes it does. The first few times my port was accessed, it really hurt. I cried and was scared as all of the nurses could attest to, I'm sure. Now, I don't usually cry. Not because it no longer hurts, but because I'm used to it and know it's necessary. I also trust my nurses. They know what they're doing and they know my port; I have a select few nurses that know how to work with my port (my port is pretty finicky) and if it isn't one of their faces that walk in, I ask for one of my nurses and they are more than happy to comply. They don't want to inflict pain on me anymore than I want to be in pain. I love their hearts for their patients.
This is the chemotherapy drug that makes me feel so terrible. Part of the way through the infusion, the needle in my port started coming up so my nurse stood there the rest of the time and held it in so I could complete my infusion. I have had a lot of additional swelling from the chemotherapy so it makes my chest swollen, making it even harder for my port needle to stay in place.
After the infusion was complete, my nurse removed the needle and I was able to go home to rest. The side effects really make me sick and so I stay in bed and sleep it off the best I can. My mom takes care of me around the clock making sure I eat, hydrate, take my medication and be there to bring me hot packs or ice packs. She is such a blessing to me. I know that even though the chemo makes me feel terrible, it is for the best. It is so I am able to keep fighting against this monster, so I can keep loving on my family, friends and my dog. I am thankful for the chemo, in other countries it isn't available to everyone, I am very blessed to live in the United States where it is readily available. I guess you could say the chemo is a gift and a curse.
I also saw my oncologist yesterday. When he walked in he had a huge smile on his face, he was so surprised at how well I am still doing. Three months ago when he started me on this drug, knowing that the disease progresses quickly he didn't expect me to still be walking and smiling and looking even better than I did then. He was so pleased with how I'm doing - now please don't mistake this as my disease is getting better. It's not. In fact, it is probably getting worse. But he was pleased with the quality of life I am experiencing. The joy he sees in my face and the fact that I am still physically able to do the things I could do three months ago is what he is pleased with. He said "Keep doing what you're doing - if it isn't broke, don't fix it" - I say that is a good thing to hear in spite of all this pain. All the glory goes to God - He's the one who has given me more time. In the midst of all this hard, I am truly living life, savoring every moment I have with my precious family and faithful friends. I am truly blessed. And oh, how He loves us, oh. Oh, how He loves us, how He loves us all...