First Infusion Day
In support of
The Moody Family
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The Moody Family
Yesterday was a dark day, in more ways than one. It seemed like the entire day was night--dark with rain and clouds. Inside the chemo infusion center our hearts were crying too. It was a hard, but good day.
We left the house at 8:30am and returned at 4:30pm. First up, was my post-op appointment with Dr. M. My incisions are healing perfectly, he got such a wide margin around my tumor that radiation is absolutely out of the question, and my ostomy is functioning well. I do have a high output stoma, which may be a problem as chemo also tends to cause diarrhea. We're back to being on dehydration alert. After chemo, we can begin discussions about surgically reversing the ostomy. I'm so grateful for Dr. M and his very kind staff. I felt like a VIP each time I visited.
My chemo appointment was next. The first step every time will be to have my port accessed and blood drawn to measure white blood cell count, red blood cell count, and other markers to make sure I can have an infusion that day. Unfortunately my appointment was schedule to have blood drawn through an IV in my arm instead of my port. That took three attempts to get an IV in. Next time, they should just access my port.
The second step was meeting with the oncologist nurse practitioner to review current symptoms. I need to track side-effects during each cycle so my progress can be monitored and adjusted as needed. The first 72 hours after infusion are the hardest hit with nausea, diarrhea, and cold sensitivity. The following days are harder hit with low white blood cells (risk of infection) and low red blood cells (risk of nosebleeds, bruising, and fatigue).
Since chemo doesn't know the difference between healthy cells and cancer cells, it is designed to attack rapidly dividing cells. This is why I can expect to lose a third of my hair, develop mouth sores, and have sun sensitivity since all those cells are rapidly remaking themselves every day.
Finally, I made it into the infusion center which had a lot of people. Not every one was receiving cancer treatment. They also offer iron infusions and infusions to treat MS (multiple sclerosis). Accessing my port was not easy again this time. I had applied numbing cream, which really helped, but my nurse needed backup to get the IV needle inserted correctly. The nausea drugs were administered, and I waited another 30 minutes to start chemo.
We're trying an ice therapy that is still in experimental stages. Since chemo can cause permanent neuropathy (nerve damage) to my hands and feet, I'm wearing specially designed ice boots and ice gloves during treatment (cold sensitivity doesn't set in until after leaving the infusion center). The thought is that the cold will constrict my blood vessels and prevent the chemo from poisoning the nerves in my extremities. It was uncomfortable to be on ice, but the payout seems to be worth it. I also had a heated blanket, beanie and scarf, lots of snacks and watched a movie, so there are perks.
I'm even more aware of how amazing all of you are. I wasn't alone in that infusion center. I had ice inserts, a tote bag, and beanie from friends. My cousin sent the ostomy and port seatbelt cushions and a chemo shirt specifically designed to make port access easier. I used a pillow made for me by someone I've never even met. So many of you have mailed items I didn't even think to have to ease my suffering. Thank you for leaning in, not being afraid of the word cancer, not ghosting us when we need you most, empathizing, cleaning our house, and caring for our children and dog. We are constantly overwhelmed by the way you have given of your money, prayers, time, energy, and thoughtfulness during this busy holiday season. God has been teaching me how very loved I am!
After 85 minutes of infusion, the nurse hooked up my chemo fanny pack that will pump more meds into me for the next 46 hours. I bundled up as best I could to prepare for the cold sensitivity. And we left to find something to eat.
I'm surprised in the best way that I'm doing well today. I do have a bit of the cold sensitivity, so I'm needing to eat and drink things at room temperature. The nausea meds are working well, and I'm grateful to begin this way. Side effects will worsen as the treatment goes on because they are cumulative, but I'm glad for a good first day. I even worked remotely.
New routines include asking friends to wear masks in our house, measuring my output again, wearing gloves in the restroom since my waste is toxic, masking up when I go out, tracking side effects and new meds, and returning to the clinic two days out to have my pump disconnected. It's a lot.
The darkness of yesterday ended with the brightness of friends wrapping my Christmas presents on my bedroom floor as we laughed and grieved together. The night is dark, but the day is coming.
We left the house at 8:30am and returned at 4:30pm. First up, was my post-op appointment with Dr. M. My incisions are healing perfectly, he got such a wide margin around my tumor that radiation is absolutely out of the question, and my ostomy is functioning well. I do have a high output stoma, which may be a problem as chemo also tends to cause diarrhea. We're back to being on dehydration alert. After chemo, we can begin discussions about surgically reversing the ostomy. I'm so grateful for Dr. M and his very kind staff. I felt like a VIP each time I visited.
My chemo appointment was next. The first step every time will be to have my port accessed and blood drawn to measure white blood cell count, red blood cell count, and other markers to make sure I can have an infusion that day. Unfortunately my appointment was schedule to have blood drawn through an IV in my arm instead of my port. That took three attempts to get an IV in. Next time, they should just access my port.
The second step was meeting with the oncologist nurse practitioner to review current symptoms. I need to track side-effects during each cycle so my progress can be monitored and adjusted as needed. The first 72 hours after infusion are the hardest hit with nausea, diarrhea, and cold sensitivity. The following days are harder hit with low white blood cells (risk of infection) and low red blood cells (risk of nosebleeds, bruising, and fatigue).
Since chemo doesn't know the difference between healthy cells and cancer cells, it is designed to attack rapidly dividing cells. This is why I can expect to lose a third of my hair, develop mouth sores, and have sun sensitivity since all those cells are rapidly remaking themselves every day.
Finally, I made it into the infusion center which had a lot of people. Not every one was receiving cancer treatment. They also offer iron infusions and infusions to treat MS (multiple sclerosis). Accessing my port was not easy again this time. I had applied numbing cream, which really helped, but my nurse needed backup to get the IV needle inserted correctly. The nausea drugs were administered, and I waited another 30 minutes to start chemo.
We're trying an ice therapy that is still in experimental stages. Since chemo can cause permanent neuropathy (nerve damage) to my hands and feet, I'm wearing specially designed ice boots and ice gloves during treatment (cold sensitivity doesn't set in until after leaving the infusion center). The thought is that the cold will constrict my blood vessels and prevent the chemo from poisoning the nerves in my extremities. It was uncomfortable to be on ice, but the payout seems to be worth it. I also had a heated blanket, beanie and scarf, lots of snacks and watched a movie, so there are perks.
I'm even more aware of how amazing all of you are. I wasn't alone in that infusion center. I had ice inserts, a tote bag, and beanie from friends. My cousin sent the ostomy and port seatbelt cushions and a chemo shirt specifically designed to make port access easier. I used a pillow made for me by someone I've never even met. So many of you have mailed items I didn't even think to have to ease my suffering. Thank you for leaning in, not being afraid of the word cancer, not ghosting us when we need you most, empathizing, cleaning our house, and caring for our children and dog. We are constantly overwhelmed by the way you have given of your money, prayers, time, energy, and thoughtfulness during this busy holiday season. God has been teaching me how very loved I am!
After 85 minutes of infusion, the nurse hooked up my chemo fanny pack that will pump more meds into me for the next 46 hours. I bundled up as best I could to prepare for the cold sensitivity. And we left to find something to eat.
I'm surprised in the best way that I'm doing well today. I do have a bit of the cold sensitivity, so I'm needing to eat and drink things at room temperature. The nausea meds are working well, and I'm grateful to begin this way. Side effects will worsen as the treatment goes on because they are cumulative, but I'm glad for a good first day. I even worked remotely.
New routines include asking friends to wear masks in our house, measuring my output again, wearing gloves in the restroom since my waste is toxic, masking up when I go out, tracking side effects and new meds, and returning to the clinic two days out to have my pump disconnected. It's a lot.
The darkness of yesterday ended with the brightness of friends wrapping my Christmas presents on my bedroom floor as we laughed and grieved together. The night is dark, but the day is coming.
Liz Moody
12 months ago
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Jim Evernden