Chemo Round 1

Walked to the Cancer Center this morning and checked in with Dr. Moran's nurse. She checked weight, blood pressure, heartbeat, temperature, etc. He came in and chatted with me about the medications and answered our questions. After which, I was directed to the "Infusion Room" - sounds like it should be the name of a bar. In fact, it's pretty darn similar to a bar in more than a few ways... more on that later.

The drugs related to my chemo treatment actually started yesterday. I was instructed to take 2 doses of Dexamethasone , one in the morning and one at night - a steroid which is supposed to reduce the risk of infection. No weird side effects other than not being able to sleep last night and feeling sticky.

So, the infusion room was pretty jammin, even though my official appt was at 9:30 - I actually didn't get there until 9:45 - we still had to wait about 45 min. The nurse hooked up the drip line to my port, tested it by running saline, etc, then started the first drug which was a 10 min drip of Dexamethasone, the same drug I took in pill form yesterday.


This picture cracks me up. I feel like I'm posing in a chemo catalog or something!

Next up, Adriamycin. This is a bright red drug that is supposed to be administered very slowly and watched carefully. Unfortunately the first needle used into the port, wasn't working well, so she had to re-poke me. Took about 15 minutes for her to even get started. After that, though, all was well and she slowly administered it for 10 minutes.

Next up, Taxotere. This was the one they were concerned about my having an allergic reaction to - but, luckily, I didn't. This one was slowly dripped for more than an hour. During which time, my hubby and I played Skip-Bo.



Last, I was given Cytoxan. This was dripped over the course of about 45 minutes. After playing a couple games of Skip-Bo, hubby went to get us some lunch and I stupidly opted for chile (did I forget that quickly about the heartburn side-effect? Obviously!) Then, there was the nice old lady bringing by lots and lots of baked goodies. How could we say no to that? (We did say no the second time around)



All in all, it was pretty uneventful. Apparently side effects will start in 24 to 72 hours. Nausea, tiredness, dry mouth and a whole host of other things. We'll see how things go and I'll most certainly keep you posted.

Before I go - back to comparing the Infusion Room to a bar: Bartenders (aka Nurses) administer concoctions. Waitresses (aka little old ladies) sweetly bring by special treats. Regulars (aka other cancer patients, most of whom have white or no hair) hang out and chit-chat, getting to know each other, while everyone is simultaneously getting gimped up on the offerings. Other than the obvious demographic differences and lack of dance floor, I could've totally been partying it up at the Infusion Room this morning! I wonder when Ports will start being installed for alcohol?