The end of my chemo treatment last night was rough. My IV would not send blood back up (more on this later) and because of it, we were running late on finishing treatment. I fell asleep at 11:30, about 3/4 of the way done and Maggie woke me up at 12:30 as she was cleaning up to make sure I was just sleeping and alive. This morning she said she tried asking me questions last night and I would give her half answers and fall back asleep mid sentence. The only solace I got from last night’s chemo session was that I started smelling hot chocolate in my room when I started, but it went away after about an hour. Water still tastes sweet though.
I woke up in a cold sweat at 2:30, Maggie came to check on me because I was shivering, gave me a heated blanket (my favorite), and I went back to sleep only to wake up again at 4:30 with clothes and bed sheets soaked in sweat. I finally relented on wearing the hospital gowns because I’ve run out of my own clothes and they’ve started smelling like chemo chemicals. I don’t even know how to describe what it smells like (Joanna’s better at this than I am): maybe think of the worst asparagus pee smell you’ve ever had. Multiply that by 10 and pretend it lingers around you, in your hair, skin, bed sheets, and clothes. Even my coughs and burps tastes like it now.
Since I was awake already, she took my vitals and then the blood vampires came at 5:30am to take my daily blood sample for testing before they slink away to their lab before daybreak.
Maggie came into my room and told me to look out the window to show me this as she pulled up the blinds.
I’ve seen lots of sun rises on my trips but this one….this one felt really special. It’s been cloudy and rainy the 3 days I’ve been in Roch. Looking out the window and seeing such a beautiful sight like this just makes me yearn to get better and be out there in the world again soon.
I was doing my daily devotional this morning before I started my day and this line caught my eye “To remain faithful where God has placed you, give Christ first place in your heart.” I feel like it’s exactly the reminder I needed today now that things are starting to really move with my treatment.
So my routine from the last few days basically looks like this:
- Wake up in a cold sweat at 4:30, change clothes, and bed sheets
- Grab morning vital signs (blood pressure, temp, and blood oxygen level)
- Take blood sample
- Walk around the hospital to avoid getting the blood thinner shot in my stomach
- Eat breakfast
- They clean my room
- Walk around some more
- Get sleepy, nap for 2 hours from 12-2
- Wake up sweaty again
- Eat lunch
- Start chemo at 3
- Pee like crazy every 15-20 min until bedtime
- Dinner
- Start the blog at 9ish
- Finish chemo around midnight
- Bedtime
I was chatting with Kimberly earlier this morning and noticed my first hair that’s fallen out due to chemo. I told Joanna and she said “LOL I lose more in the shower, don’t be a such drama queen!”
There will be definitely more where that came from.
2 days ago they needed to replace my first IV with IV #2 because they weren’t able to “flush” the IV line. Flushing means that they take a syringe and attach it to my IV. They push the solution through and then suck back some to make sure blood comes out in order to ensure that the line is going in a vein. If chemo meds were not going directly into my veins and into my arms, it would start decaying my flesh…or something bad like that, I don’t remember specifically, I just know it’s bad.
IV #2 started causing trouble yesterday but cooperated for the most part with Maggie after she would pre heat my arm with blankets warmed to about 150f for 15 minutes to open up my veins and then use 4 syringes to flush the line. Today, Nurse Erika was not so lucky. We started at 3pm with hopes of being done by 8 but because my IV wouldn’t flush I had 3 different nurses (Erika, Jean, and Theresa) look at it until they decided to just redo the IV (more needles).
After much difficulty they decided to call 2 nurses from the IV team to remove IV #2 and install IV #3….and then IV #3 didn’t work. I audibly yelled when she stuck the IV in and then dug around for the vein. I was sweating by the time she pulled the needle out and let her partner take a turn with IV #4 which was able to work. You can see IV #2 and #4 dangling off my left arm. I can’t believe I’ve had 4 IVs in my arm and it’s only day 3 of chemo!
This is what a proper flushed line looks like:
Trust me, it wasn’t working this smoothly before.
We were finally able to keep moving with chemo therapy and finished about 11:30pm tonight. I’m still tracking my water input and output. Here is my water bottle graveyard. I feel like for all the years I tried avoiding drinking bottled water, I’m basically making up for lost time right now. The nurses ask that I don’t reuse bottles for fear of contamination if I lose track on how many days i drink out of one. I drank and will need to finish all of these today.
Throughout the 8 hours of chemo today, I peed 1.175 gallons (4.45 liters) of pee. THAT’S INSANE. They even want me to track “bowel movements” I feel like when I tell them that I’ve had one, this is their reaction:
Watch the video with sound, it’s hilarious
Because of the dexamethasone steroid, I’m eating like crazy. It’s supposed to kick start my immune system and in turn, it’s making me hungry all the time.
Yesterday I gained 2 lbs, and today I gained 5 so I’m up to my regular weight of 140! (small victories!)
I’m writing this blog right now and I swear I can feel my tumor pulse and hurt. Derek must be getting the message that he’s no longer welcome.
Even though I’m coughing much much less and my energy is starting to get better, I’m still getting out of breath when I have a conversation with someone. I’m just hoping that cancer is like chicken pox where you only have to get it once and you NEVER get it again…right?…right?
Andrew
I have been reading your blog posts and following your journey – your posts are so well written and engaging that I feel like I am right there with you. I am sad when I look
At your desk and you aren’t there. I have started a list of lunch restaurants for us to visit as soon as you get back! I am glad To read this your appetite is back. The chemo therapy treatment sounds incredibly intense but a man like you with such determination and faith will undoubtedly come out on top. We miss you at work and can’t wait for you to come back.
Thank you Mark, I can’t wait to see the list you come up with!
Andrew, I am cheering on your leaderboard, hoping you get to slay the blood vampires, and amazed at your strength and positive outlook. Good outlook will equal good outcome, right? Hang in there…. Day by day… hour by hour… until you’ve beaten this beast. Putting you in the prayer list at church this morning. Jasper, Alabama is with you in this battle. ❤️
Andrew,
I am sorry for the struggle that you are facing. My prayers are with you and your family. I want you to know I care.
Paul