Treatment - second cycle
Second time around, I thought I'd know the drill and be prepared but there were further new experiences to delight and amaze.
I'd had my blood count done as a matter of course, and although everything's down, they're all still within normal ranges, so the chemo could go ahead. (If they weren't you'd have to have a transfusion before they could go ahead.)
All shifts were met by family this time, as Maddy was back from Russia for a week, and Luke from Leeds for a few days.
The staff were much friendlier and engaged - my feedback about my human experience of Chemo I that I had given to the Clinical Nurse Specialists had made it to the Chemo Oncology Consultant and perhaps beyond. All in the spirit of Continuous Improvement of course.
There was no faffing about asking me whether I wanted a permanent i.v. line into my chest - just an assumption that I'd want one I could have removed at the end of the day (the sort that 95% of patients have in fact). The cold cap machines had been mended, and I had booked one, although for me, I think it's now just a tactic for delaying baldness, not preventing it entirely.
However, 11 minutes into the paclitaxel infusion, there was some unwanted over-excitement. Despite the pre-meds including a nice big syringe full of chlorpheniramine antihistamine, I had a reaction - sudden, throbbing pain in my lower back that couldn't be mistaken for inadequately plumped pillows for long. This merited production of three nurses, the Reaction Kit, blood pressure monitor, blood gases finger clip and lots of soothing, "we're here for you"s accompanied by injection of three more big syringes of the antihistamine. 15-30 minutes later, the pain had gone and the blood pressure had come down without my head exploding and we were back on course for the rest of the day. Apparently, this is the course of a reaction that is reasonably common in one of the first two treatments, and probably won't happen again.
Afterwards, even more wobbly and woozy with four times the usual dose of antihistamine in me, and with no GLH car to be had within an hour, it had to be an Uber, to whom we gave the wrong Lincoln Road address. We got to Wood Green before accepting that the route taken could not possibly be explained by redirection due to rush hour traffic, and that we were in fact heading for Enfield. I hope Luke gave the driver a good rating, as he was very calm about it all.
Picture shows the chemo day-care set-up - from left to right: drip stand, scalp cooling machine, patient looking like she's set to go horse riding when she gets up, but completely zonked for now, very dutiful and distracting daughter.
I'd had my blood count done as a matter of course, and although everything's down, they're all still within normal ranges, so the chemo could go ahead. (If they weren't you'd have to have a transfusion before they could go ahead.)
All shifts were met by family this time, as Maddy was back from Russia for a week, and Luke from Leeds for a few days.
The staff were much friendlier and engaged - my feedback about my human experience of Chemo I that I had given to the Clinical Nurse Specialists had made it to the Chemo Oncology Consultant and perhaps beyond. All in the spirit of Continuous Improvement of course.
There was no faffing about asking me whether I wanted a permanent i.v. line into my chest - just an assumption that I'd want one I could have removed at the end of the day (the sort that 95% of patients have in fact). The cold cap machines had been mended, and I had booked one, although for me, I think it's now just a tactic for delaying baldness, not preventing it entirely.
However, 11 minutes into the paclitaxel infusion, there was some unwanted over-excitement. Despite the pre-meds including a nice big syringe full of chlorpheniramine antihistamine, I had a reaction - sudden, throbbing pain in my lower back that couldn't be mistaken for inadequately plumped pillows for long. This merited production of three nurses, the Reaction Kit, blood pressure monitor, blood gases finger clip and lots of soothing, "we're here for you"s accompanied by injection of three more big syringes of the antihistamine. 15-30 minutes later, the pain had gone and the blood pressure had come down without my head exploding and we were back on course for the rest of the day. Apparently, this is the course of a reaction that is reasonably common in one of the first two treatments, and probably won't happen again.
Afterwards, even more wobbly and woozy with four times the usual dose of antihistamine in me, and with no GLH car to be had within an hour, it had to be an Uber, to whom we gave the wrong Lincoln Road address. We got to Wood Green before accepting that the route taken could not possibly be explained by redirection due to rush hour traffic, and that we were in fact heading for Enfield. I hope Luke gave the driver a good rating, as he was very calm about it all.
Picture shows the chemo day-care set-up - from left to right: drip stand, scalp cooling machine, patient looking like she's set to go horse riding when she gets up, but completely zonked for now, very dutiful and distracting daughter.
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