My Journey Through Week One of Cancer Treatment

I was dreading this day. I had been doing my normal routine of working and day-today activities and trying to lead a regular life without letting the thought of treatment fill my head. I slept horribly the night before treatment  just thinking about all the unknowns. Will it hurt? Will the treatment work? Will I change physically? Will I lose myself? Since I was diagnosed with stage one colorectal cancer on April 1st 2014, I have had all sorts of questions and concerns as to how this is going to change me - inside and out. Preparing myself for the worst and hoping for the best.

                                              

I arrived at the treatment center at 7am all prepared to start my treatment plan consisting of five days a week of radiation, roughly 20 minute sessions, for five weeks. Chemotherapy is for a total of eight days, first four days during week one and last four days during final treatment week. Many have asked why this treatment is pretty intense and extensive if it's only stage one cancer? Good question. This cancer is inside my rectum and has spread in that local area. Most people diagnosed with anything above stage one rectal cancer need to have that area of their body removed - think of it like a breast or a testicle. If a lump is found in one of those regions, many times that piece of your body is removed. If you removed your lower intestine - you will be shitting into a bag for the rest of your life. No thank you.

Radiation

The morning radiation treatments have been surprisingly peaceful so far. I meet with a tall older gentleman named, Tom. He reminds me of the actor James Cromwell from the second season of American Horror Story, but much kinder of course. I strip down bare ass and get into this large radiation contraption. I have a special mold for my lower body that keeps me in the same position every time I receive the radiation treatment. I have to cover my junk with bubble wrap so I don't damage my goods. I am pretty sure I will not be contributing to any baby making sessions in the future - but it's still nice to keep that area safe. So far, I have not experienced any side effects yet, but I have only gone through one week of treatment - I am sure next week will be different.

Chemotherapy

Chemotherapy was a different story. A few weeks ago I had a port installed into my chest. This port is where they feed all the chemo, hydration liquids and draw your blood work from so you don't have a million needles going into your arms and look like a strung out drug addict. I really did not want the port...they had to surgically put this quarter-sized plastic piece into my chest that connects to the main artery in my neck. Gross. Anyway, I did it. I will have a battle scar to talk about someday.

Day One Chemo - Monday

The first day of chemo had me at the hospital for six hours. They made sure I was all hooked up and properly hydrated and had all the proper medications in my body before injecting me with a huge syringe of mitomycin. It was pretty intense having this big needle of what is basically poison being injected into my chest. I cried, not out of fear but sadness. I thought about how well I have taken care of my body through the years and here I am injecting my body with chemicals that will take a number on my body and organs. Paul was next to me the entire time and I also thought of his mother, Ruthie. I remember when she was going through cancer treatment and I could not imagine what she was going through. I drew on her memory for strength and encouragement that I would get through this. Throughout the entire chemo process I had a wonderful nurse named Laura, she was truly amazing explaining everything along the way with a great smile and enough humor weaved in to keep me smiling.

After the mitomycin was distributed into my body, it was now time to hook me up to the the chemo pouch. This pouch is filled with a substance called Fluorouracil (5-FU) and would be connected to me for four full days - a slow drip of chemotherapy going though my body continuously. The medicine is stored in a handy little pouch, it looks like a European man-purse - I could easily pull that off!

At home the first night, I was feeling pretty good. I even felt well enough to meet with our neighbors to talk about common areas of property we own together and ways to improve them. I hit the sack around 10pm with my new man purse of chemo by my side, ready for a good nights sleep.

Day Two Chemo - Tuesday

At 1am, I was awoken by this horrible taste. I shot out of bed and ran into the bathroom spitting out this awful liquid. It tasted like lysol and bleach. I then started to throw up this vile chemical profusely - it was coming out of my nose and my mouth and my eyes were burning. What was happening to me!!?

I was screaming and crying and fell to the bathroom floor. Sadly, our cats litter box was in the bathroom I chose to get sick in and I started to get even MORE sick from the smell of that. I think this is when the spirit of Joan Crawford found its way into me because I started to yell "Get this fucking cat box out of here!!!" And then I proceeded to grab cleanser with a rag and start scrubbing the bathroom floor while vomiting. Classic moment. God bless Paul Johnson for dealing with me during this episode and cleaning the bathroom.

Once that little psychotic episode was over, I just lied on the floor lifeless next to the toilet. The cold tile against my skin soothed me as I started to drift to sleep. The next morning, I went back to the treatment center bright and early for my radiation and I ran into one of my nurses. I told her about my vomiting episode and she quickly told me that I should get some fluids into my body and that I was probably pretty dehydrated. I was placed into a nice private room for a few hours to receive hydration intravenously. I was also given a massive dose of nausea medication called EMEND that would help me with my nausea for a full three days. 

Day Three  - Wednesday

I was feeling pretty good as I headed to my morning treatment routines after a decent nights sleep. Paul is managing my medication at home, which is keeping my nausea under control. After my radiation early morning treatment, I decided to get a few hours of fluids just to make sure I was hydrated. I had a new nurse working with me who was less attentive but still accommodating. She asked if I wanted more nausea medication and I told her I was still feeling ok, but asked her if she thought I should have some more. She decided to give me more EMEND. Once she started to give me the dose of EMEND, I started to get a sharp pain in my chest....my arms were tingling...my throat was closing up...my jaw was tight.....

The next think I know I was surrounded by several nurses and a few EMT's. They were giving me an EKG. An EKG?!? Was I having a heart attack?!?? I looked around the room, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I could see Paul's face, white as a sheet and sweating. What was happening. I was placed on a gurney and wheeled out of the treatment center into an ambulance. I was still having heavy chest pains in the ambulance and the EMT driver ripped open my hospital gown to give me another EKG. The tiny shred of sex drive in my body did rear its head as this hot EMT ripped open my gown and looked down at my with his sexy face. But that was a fleeting moment as I realized I was probably having a heart attack and thinking about sex at this time would only make that worse.

I arrived at the hospital and the team of doctor's and nurses were unsure of my condition since my EKG was showing up abnormal. They decided to conduct a cardiac catheterization to determine if I had any blocked arteries. I was awake for the whole thing watching them look into my arteries and my heart to make sure all areas were clear. I was happy to report to Paul that I do not have the grinch sized heart he thinks I do:) All I kept thinking was...What is happening to me????? I just wanted to be done. I wanted to rip the chemo from my chest and just run away from this all. No more! I am done. Please!

Day Four - Thursday

Paul and my best friend Ryan had been with me the night before and and the nurses moved me to my own private room for what was a decent amount of sleep that night. They both kept reminding me that I will get through this and I am stronger than I know.

I awoke at 5am to the same horrible chest pains and numbness - screaming for the nurse. The nurse came into my room injecting me with morphine. I started to gag at the horrid smell of morphine. And then it immediately made me nauseous as I felt it go through my veins. For this first time in a long time, I felt I was losing control of who I am. I was losing me to all the pain, to all the drugs. That person inside me started to poke me and tell me not it give in, don't lose yourself.

Later that day, I was brought down to an x-ray room to check my chest for blood clots. Negative. Everyone was perplexed to what was happening to me. Eventually, it was determined that I was given an overdose and/or had an allergic reaction to the EMEND nausea medication.  I was still told I had to stay another night in the hospital incase I had another episode. Carrie came to visit me and I was so happy to see her. Paul, Carrie and I just talked about the entire series of events and the craziness of it all. Carrie also brought a new photo of Zachary from his baseball team. I propped it up next to my bedside that night as I feel asleep to remind myself that I can get through this and that I will not lose myself in this if I keep my mind strong.

Day Five - Friday

I woke up feeling great and had a full nights sleep without a chest episode. Sadly, the chemo pump that I am hooked up to stopped working on Thursday morning, so I was only given about 2/3 of the chemo dose. I was a bit worried that I would have to redo the entire week since I did not finish all of it.

One of the nurses I had in the hospital,  tiny Asian woman named Rose, came in to check my vitals and change my dressings  As she removed the dressing near my groin from the cardiac catheterization, she yanked down my drawers, looked at my junk and just yelled "Pretty!" I laughed so hard. Hilarious. She also said I was going home today so I was thrilled. Paul came to pick me up so we could make our way out of the hospital and to the treatment center. I was so happy to just see Paul's face. 

At the treatment center, I was happy to hear that my oncologist said the amount of chemo that I was administered should be enough and I can continue the chemo in week five. I then had to get a shot called Neulasta to keep my white blood cells healthy. This Neulasta shot cost me $1,200 - out of my own pocket. I was told a few weeks prior to getting treatment that I would need the shot and that my insurance would not pay for it, so I bought it. Turns out that my insurance DOES cover it and I did not have to pay $1,200 for it....not happy. So the treatment place was once again in a flutter as to why I was told this information by them and why I had to incur this cost. Let's hope I get my $1,200 back). 

Week One - over and out!