I was in such a good mood this morning.
Today, as it turned out, I had cancer. I spent seven hours and fifteen minutes at the hospital waiting for today’s treatment of Doxorubicin and Velcade and transport. It is Day 1 of my last cycle on PADIMAC. The rest of my cycle better not be like this. Please. I need a life that is not just this.
On Day 1, before I get my main drugs, I have to have a blood test, my vitals, a pregnancy test (to confirm, despite several imaginary attempts, I am not pregnant) and receive fluids and anti-sickness medication. All in, it should be done in 90 minutes. Today, everything and anything after midday was a shambles and the 90 minutes was but a dream set in a meadow in the Spring, with me wearing white and doing carthwheels.
I had counselling this morning at 11:00hrs and landed on the second floor at 11:55hrs. Fine. I was jolly, the counselling was productive and my outfit only contained some black today. Being the selfish person I am, I had already informed the hospital that I had been double booked and asked that I be checked in at 11:00hrs still because I have now experienced ten Mondays before this one, and know that they run slightly behind schedule and offered to have my bloods tested elsewhere to speed up the process. It did not speed up the process.
I understand that there are staff shortages and the nurses cannot come in if they are sick, but this is the excuse I hear every Monday and to be honest, Tuesday. I am 28 years old and want to live as much of my life as I can, but alas, today was wasted sitting on a chair with only my tired brain for company.
My day actually started at 09:00hrs, at which time I was ready to leave the flat as instructed. Once I realised that it was going to be at least a nine hour day, I spent 90 minutes crying (on and off) because I had to cancel my plans this evening, because it dawned on me that I could no longer have the time to fulfil my Christmas Baking Gift Challenge and because all of it was completely out of my control. My day was about My Myeloma and only that, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I suppose, I cannot complain too much, for my lunch was provided, and I am a very lucky to have had the corned beef sandwich on white. It was a culinary delight. Okay, I am reaching here, but I do not want to be a completely negative person. My heart is warm and I am kind. I am not usually somebody who is rude to her nurse.
As well as the above, today I learnt, in the context of cancer and the cannula what ’tissued’ means. It is not pleasant. My cannula was fitted two hours before I was attached to anything, the first being the anti-sickness drug. There were no issues with the application, it flushed well and it was almost pleasant. I gushed. Somebody then, during the two hours wait, moved, a lot it would seem because somebody managed to bend the cannula so that it was no longer in a vein. Unfortunately, this was only discover after they had tried to put the drugs in my arm, which then looked like the photographs below but worse. For a period, my arm looked like it had half a golf ball in it. It’s going to bruise and the vein is still like one of Madonna’s..
Oh, and I managed to fracture another rib last night in my sleep. In my sleep. Score.
So that was my day. It sucked. I am exhausted and cannot write nor speak with any enthusiasm.
Tomorrow will be better.