This post should have been written on Friday or Saturday at the latest. Apparently, though, I am only allowed one day at a time to feel well, and yesterday was it. . . .we’ll see what today brings.
I went for a port draw and my tox check on Friday. Everything was good with that draw, She hit it immediately and I barely felt anything. The results were ok, BUT . . . .my white count was at a critical low. I was completely unprotected from any ill-willing virus or bacteria I would encounter. As for training, they said be careful, but go ahead and pursue your normal activities. Everything else was fine.
I did get my chest CT back and instead of 1 node in the lung, they now found 2. If I keep waiting, I’m sure they will multiply. I got the report and went on my way.
The next day I was excited to get back to training…except. . . .I spent all night. . .well not all night, every 45 minutes, in the bathroom. I was miserable. On top of Diarrhea, I was cramping and my stomach was very distended. When I woke up and began any activity, not only did this not subside, but my back began to hurt and I felt very much like my pancreas was angry with me. Called the on-call doc and guess what? 9am off to the ER. (UGH)
It wasn’t too busy at the ER and I was taken back to a room within 15 minutes. That’s where everything fell apart. Tried to get blood from my arm. . . completely blew it 3 times (in painful places). Said they’d have to access my port, but he’d need a nurse to do that. . . .what was he? OMG.
I was then led to an intake room. . . for over an hour I sat seeing no one. I was then taken to an exam room. Why is it the hospital is always so bloomin cold. I was FREEZING the whole time. (and I don’t do cold well). Again I say. All told, I was in the ER for over 6 hours. UGH.
The doctor was good and my main nurse was pleasant enough. It also gave me time to crochet 3 cowls in between all the goings on. My main nurse came in to do a port draw. She donned all the appropriate very sterile gear and prepared the environment (this has to be a very sterile procedure because of the immediate access to my jugular) and was unsuccessful. (whoever said that having a port meant that it would be one and done from now on lied. The caveat would me that someone used to them would have an easy time, once the swelling from the surgery went down. That’s lots of ifs and whens). Anyway, after twice, she was skeptical to do it again, so they called in someone who had more experience. (you could tell this was not something that was comfortable to these nurses). The “experienced” nurse came in and I swear she had an IQ of a flea. She started feeling around at the site and said she would be right back and would attach the port. As she was leaving, though, she asked the main nurse “Why are we in sterile gloves, gowns, and masks”. I wanted to jump out of the bed and leave at that minute. The nurse explained that this was the procedure and protocol due to possibility of infection and the comment was “oh, ok”. GET ME OUT OF HERE. That really freaked me out. I almost asked for a different nurse to do the draw. I don’t know why I didn’t.
When she came back in she brought an assistant. She explained that she couldn’t do this on her own, the sterility procedure was too much for her two hands to handle. She accessed the port. . . sort of. It should have been an indicator that she wasn’t in right when she could only draw 1cc of blood from my jugular. . .. I think I have more than that in me. But it was enough for the test so I let it go.
The procedure when a port has to sit is to either hook it up to saline or to flush it is heparin to keep it from clotting. She walked out the door and I didn’t see anyone to manage the port for over 10 minutes. When they did come in, they hooked me up to saline. A minute after they walked out the door, the pump started beeping. I waited about 2 minutes and when no one came in, I pushed the call button. No one showed up for 20 minutes. When the nurse came back. . .OOPS “I forgot to open the clamp”. Terrific, now my port has been idle and clogging for over 25 minutes. UGH again.
All in all, all tests came back fine so by process of elimination, they diagnosed an intestinal virus and sent me home. I was never so happy to leave a place in my life.
Sunday was a day of promise, I was up and ready for training, but I overslept due to the change in daylight savings time. (that’s a rant for a whole ‘nuther time). I decided I would go in late for the level 2 and call that good.
I got to the center halfway through the first level 1 class and they had questions for me. I was glad to be there. The day went well and Fergie was amazing, but I was tired and worn out at the end.
By the end of the afternoon, I could feel like I was running a fever. 99, 99.5, 99.8, 100, 100.1. . .. at those temps, I was dying. I couldn’t wait to get into bed. I was convinced that I had caught something at the hospital (with my white count so low), and I was now in trouble. Uncle Tony called and woke me at 9 pm, then Annmarie called again at 9:30. . . I didn’t answer that call as I couldn’t move at that point. I was miserable. Checking the fever through the night, it finally broke about 4 am on Monday and I was able to get some sleep.
And the saga continues. Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter. I have Chemo on Friday again. I can’t wait to see what the weekend brings.
–joann