Round Two

Last Thursday, as the Ratt song goes; I was "Back for More"...

This time I landed at the General and hope to stay there for the duration of my treatments. 

During my stay at the hospital the week prior, I didn't want the nurses to use my port for administering fluids, or blood work.  I still had not grown used to the idea, thought it would hurt, am a baby and expected I would be sent home after a few hours, anyways.  WRONG!!  Now, I still don't have veins left in my arms for my blood work which is required before chemo and being new to this, didn't realize I need to schedule an appointment to use the port to gather blood.  You know there are going to be problems when the lab tech asks if your blood is as stubborn as you are...She had some issues but she finally got what she needed.  When I returned for treatment a few hours later, she shouted across the hall to me "There's the baby!" 

Yes.  Next time use the damn port.

Round 2 was equally uneventful as the first.  Kim and Carolyn joined me for the afternoon festivities and this time I brought the game "Operation" to pass the time  I did have to come to terms with using the port which in the end wasn't so bad.  After applying ice, it was merely a prick...so all that whining for nothing.  My favorite part of being in the hospital is the blanket warmer.  I will be investing in one of those for home soon.

Kim had explained to her kids in the morning that she was being "Aunt Millie's" buddy at the hospital.  Her 2 year old nodded her head with an all knowing look and said "Boobie" - She understands.

Because my white blood cell count (neutrophils) dropped; I needed to start Neulasta injections early to keep it up and not land back in the hospital with a fever or infection.  I spent a good part of my week, trying to ensure this injection was covered by my health insurance.  It's pretty pricey but consists of only one injection after each treatment.  The alternative is 6-10 injections per treatment.  My aversion to needles, made me scramble to get everything organized in time.

The home care nurse came in on Friday to show me how to inject Neulasta.  After explaining it's a slow release and the needle needs to be on a certain angle; I just decided it is for everyone's best interest that I call in a home nurse each time.  I cannot do this to myself and I want a trained professional who has experience with hundreds of patients, jabbing me with a needle.  Carolyn offered to try to help but my guess is I would be picking her off the floor if she made an attempt.

My nurse also explained that often people will come into my life who are sad, negative or try to tell me what they think is best for my well being.   Some of these people you can convert and others, you may have to leave at the side of the road.  He explained that I am the Poster Child for Modern Day Cancer.  Treatments have progressed so much in the last 15-20 years that my rate of survival is super high.  Mix that with the fact I have no nausea, have an appetite like a horse, still pretty active, no fatigue and a really positive attitude; I already have this licked!!  He recommended to keep doing what I am doing and also offered to have a chat with those who try to tell me differently.

One of the side effects associated with Neulasta injections is sore joints because it stimulates bone marrow to produce neutrophils. It wasn't horrible and nothing a little heating pad couldn't fix.

The biggest side effect after this treatment was fatigue.  I have never been knocked down so hard in my life ...Towards the end of receiving chemo last week, I suddenly felt tired.  Kim said it appeared instantly on my face.  I crawled into bed when I got home and spent a good chunk of the weekend sleeping at the farm.  I didn't even care if a cat was walking across my head at night (which is a strange sensation if you have no hair.) 

But I do love Christmas and managed to decorate the tree, wrap some gifts and do a little baking.  Although I am embracing the fatigue since I had not been able to sleep for weeks; I do feel a little guilty not being my usual power house. 

I still feel like I am in La La land today but have been told it should pass in another day or two.  My appetite hasn't subsided and Carolyn took me to a buffet at lunch to satisfy my cravings.  I pushed my way to the roast beef counter like a zombie in search of brains.  I am worried that I will be the size of a house by the time I finish treatments.

One last cute story - I snuck into church yesterday to watch the children rehearse for their Christmas program.  I likely will not attend the actual program since it will be when I am at my lowest point, have a lot of other things happening between Christmas eve and Boxing day, plus it will likely be a cesspool of germs.  Anyways, my cousin's little guy walked out on the stage, saw me in the back and shouted "Hey Auntie Jen!  My daddy took all his hair off for you!  Its true!  I helped him shaved it!"  He then came to my seat, I let him pull off my hat so he could see my head.  He said it looked a little creepy.  I reminded him that he hasn't had front teeth since August.

"That's right!  You have no hair and I have no teeth"

Perfect red neck family

Later that day I received a text from his father - A picture of him with a shaved head and a note that read "Just my way of saying you are not in this alone.  Anything. Anytime.  You call and we will be there."

Sportin' Jen's gift from L.A. and my new Rammstein toque - I felt super rock 'n roll

Bald as an Eagle

On Wednesday, December 4th around 4:15 PM, I ran my fingers through my hair while on a call.  I looked at my hand and it was full of little blonde hairs.

It was happening.

I texted Laura to let her know that I was ready to shave my head and she promptly called Genevieve at Lucas Nault salon.  We made an appointment for Sunday.

By 10 PM Wednesday evening, I arrived to emergency with a fever and was told the next day I should expect to be in the hospital until Sunday or Monday.  The pillows in my hospital bed were covered in my hair.  When I took a shower, I had little hairs stuck to my body.  Although I still had a lot of hair and it wasn't coming out in patches, this was not working out well.

I knew I would be cranky if I was shedding in my home.  I already hate it when my cats shed and I was worse than them.

Laura and Genevieve were gracious enough to accommodate me at the hospital last night.  The nurses gave us a utility room so that we could have a little privacy.

We used a wheelchair that fits over a toilet as my chair and a hospital gown as my cape.

I thought I was prepared but as Gen picked up her clippers, I cried.  But only for a second...
I guess no matter how much you think you are prepared, when it comes to the final hour, you have a fleeting moment of sadness. This is it. It is not going to grow back tomorrow.  It's going to take a long time... and it will only start after treatments finish in March.

I had two incredible people at my side to share this moment with. Well, actually Laura was in front of me with a camera and Gen was a bit more to the side/rear with her clippers.

Let the games begin!

I am likely never going to have (at least I hope so) another moment like this again; so take advantage.

We fulfilled the desire I had when I was a teenager to do a full punk Mohawk.  Then, we did that 80s look where it was cool to have a shaved head and a little tuft of hair in the front.  Within minutes, it was all off, lying at my feet and I was a bald eagle.

As I walked out of the room to look for a broom, I ran face to face into a friend of mine.  I figured that either through Facebook or mutual friends, she was aware I had been diagnosed with cancer.  Nope and the look of shock and confusion as to why I was standing in the middle of the oncology floor with a bald head was priceless.

Suzy is a very striking woman with gorgeous hair and for a split second, I wanted to grab her by her long luscious black locks and drag her into the room and have Gen shave her down so I could use her hair as a wig.  She has hair that I want!

It is a very weird feeling not to have hair.  It will take a few days to be totally comfortable but so far I am ok with the look.  However, it feels weird to the touch and I feel temperature changes.

I was born a blonde and for a number a years I was a wide variety of colours in the red family but I have never been a brunette, chestnut, chocolate, brown black or other.  I wash my hair every day and there was a point when I would wash it twice day to have a colour within the brown/black family because it will fade to an ugly murky brown.  Now is my chance to have fun and be whatever colour I want.

The Mighty Have Fallen

I jinxed myself....

I knew I was too lucky and being overly cocky because I had not experienced any side effects.

And then on Day 12 it hit me...

I popped into the office super early to grab a few things, grabbed a few groceries on the way home, worked from home until lunch, worked out during lunch at the Maplesoft Centre and by the time I left, felt like a truck ran over me.  I crawled into bed when I got home and took a nap.

Wednesday was even worse.  I woke up and had to message my bosses to let them know I wasn't able to log in and would come online after I sleep a little longer.  I felt a better when I woke and assumed perhaps it was exhaustion from lack of sleep.  My throat was sore, I could feel my temperature rising but I had not reached a fever point.  By evening my temperature had reached the fever mark, waited a little longer, no changes and by 9, I turned to my friend and asked "Can you take me to the hospital please?"

Now since I felt fine and was merely following protocol, I took my time to pack a little package including magazines, water and my travel makeup bag.  I also figured I would be in for a long haul and made a Tim Horton's pit stop. En route, I could feel my body temperature rising and wondered if anyone would notice if I rolled down the window and hung my head out of the vehicle like a dog.

At the hospital, I pulled the cancer card.  No seriously, you are given a card to keep in your wallet that is presented should you wind up in emergency.  You pass the line, don't wait in the waiting room and are taken into care as quickly as possible.  My VIP lounge did not include bottle service but surgical masks.  Meta kept yelling at me to keep my mask on but it is very hard to drink coffee through a mask and by now, my lip gloss had smeared all over the inside of the mask and across my face, making me look like the Joker.

The purpose of having a port is to receive anything via IV and to extract blood without wrecking your veins.   Since I am relatively new to this concept, a bit fearful of the first time I will be "clipped in" and assumed, I was going to be sent home by morning; I told them not to bother and use my veins for blood tests.

When I was in the first grade,  during a routine blood test, I watched the nurse extract vials of blood from me.  Five minutes later, I passed out cold on the steps of the Shawville Hospital.  Ever since I've had an aversion to needles.  I can't watch.

Needless to say I didn't have a warm and fuzzy feeling when I felt the nurse pushing and rubbing against my veins...Oh come on!  There is no way you can't draw blood from that big honking blue vein in my arm.  Then I caught a glimpse of what she was taking out of me.  Aside from maybe 4-6 of the usual vials, another 4 the size of Heinz Ketchup bottles were sitting on the tray!!

I called her a dirty vampire

Xray department didn't play fair either.  They asked if I could stand up - Of course I could.  That was great news for her because she didn't have to take a chest Xray with my lying down.  You mean there is an option?  I was toasty and cozy' snuggled up, under the blankets in my gurney and now she wanted me to get out and stand in the cold?

I was then asked to provide a urine sample.  After drinking a large Timmies (decaf) I was ready to report for duty.  She asked to collect my sample mid stream. Not a problem - Most women may be embarrassed to admit this but lining everything up at the start can be a little difficult, you usually miss and pee on your hand...always happens and always mid stream

My Oncology specialist was a Resident who looked like he was 12 years old and on a class field trip.  He had spoke to his Fellow...which is? He explained the difference between residency and fellowship.

"And after Fellow, you become a Dude?"  I asked

"No, "Staff" but I like your title better"

With whatever leftover blood they had from feeding the vampires in the basement, it indicated my white blood cell was very low and I was being admitted.  There were no rooms available and I was in line for a room.  When the morning nurse started his shift he said typically there are approximately 10 people waiting to be admitted to a room.  On Thursday morning, there were 31 people waiting.  There were beds in their board room, beds lined up in the hallway and at one point, I heard they had no beds.  I was thankful for my little broom closet as I had some privacy.

One thing I was confused about; I why would the nurse do a swab of my ass when I came in complaining of a sore throat?  No one looked at my throat until I brought the issue up again by lunchtime.  They assume it is the start of mouth sores and it will come and go in cycles during treatments. It is annoying as hell.

Spending a night,  listening to everyone in the emergency, is an experience.  To my left was a little old man who had fallen and fractured something.  He was disoriented and would not stay in his bed. Finally by morning, one of the nurses had enough of his antics and told him to settle down; to which he shouted "Shut your f*cking mouth b*tch" and then afterwards asked for assistance get to the washroom to "take a crap"

Across the room was a women vomiting and retching...I closed my curtain

To my right, at one point, was a little old lady who had taken a tumble and was very upset that her assigned nurse was not at her beckon call.  In fact she complained about everything.

Two doors down was another little old lady who sadly tried to commit suicide by taking 4 anti depressants (it was one of those "and you think you have it rough" moments for me) and in the morning she was bragging about how well she slept...Uhm lady, I don't think so because I heard you  talking all night.

Down the hall was another old lady, screaming "Get me out of here!"

I don't think anyone would be surprised if I told them, I didn't sleep that night.  I feel part of the reason I landed in the hospital in the first place is that I have been sleeping poorly for over a week and was run down.  This was not helping the situation and a breath mint would have worked better than the sleeping pill they finally gave me at 4:30 AM.

There is little to no cell phone reception in the emergency ward.  It was late when I decided to go in and I thought I would be released the next morning at some point and therefore, didn't feel the need to tell my folks.  I was admitted by 2:30 AM and certainly was not going to call them and figured I would be put into a room my mid morning at the latest.  But as the day grew on, I heard stories of people spending a few days in emergency due to lack of beds.  I wasn't allowed to leave the area because at this point, was still unsure what caused my fever and could not compromise myself any further.

Carolyn had dropped by early in the morning with some breakfast and thank God because the hospital had nothing to give me to eat until noon.  When she asked what I wanted, I texted "Cheeseburger!  No wait, its too early.  How about a croissant and some fruit?"

I know I am trying to eat healthy but something about hospitals must bring out my bad side.

Anyways she offered to call my folks.  I figured she was the best person because A- my parents know her and B- she has physically seen me in person so she can reiterate I am fine.

Now every one's parents have little quirks.  Amongst mine, my dad believes he is the only person who has a long distance savings plan that allows him to call anyone in Canada for free.  And he wants to make sure he gets his money's worth out of it.   I gave up arguing about 5 years ago that I also had a similar plan and for years, I have called their home, let it ring a few times and then he calls me back.

When Carolyn ran to my place to pick up a few items, she thought maybe it was a good idea to use my land line to call my folks, since they would see the number and answer right away assuming it was me.  Of course they didn't answer and they called back after she walked out the door.  Then they tried my cell which went straight to voicemail.

Shortly after my aunt called to let them know I was in the hospital...didn't tell them which one or why.  The poor man starts calling every hospital in the city.

I was about to go to the bathroom when I heard

"Are you Jennifer?  Your father is on the phone."

Uh oh...

I reassured my parents that I feel fine and the reason for the low cell count and fever is a result of my body reacting to the Chemo.  No big deal - I will start the bone marrow producing injections a little earlier than planned.

After relief sets in, he wants to have a chat.  I am standing at the nurses' station in leggings, an open back, hooked to an IV pole that was last inspected in 2007 (you have a little time on your hands when you are in a hospital,) desperately wanting to pee due to all the hydration.  Not the best time to talk.

Meta and Carolyn were fantastic, taking turns visiting during the day.  Meta snuck in McNuggets.  You know the hospital food is bad when the porter collecting the trays had an envious look when he spied the Golden Arches.  Ang stopped around dinner time and great timing because I promptly turned her around in search of the Tim Horton's for some chili when dinner was served.

By 6:30 PM, I was switched to a bed in the oncology unit.  Finally a real bed, with a shower in the washroom.  Because if I had to stay in emergency, I had made arrangements to take a "shower" where they hose the homeless people off.

Now part of my problem was that I had not been sleeping and the night before was horrendous so I asked the nurse for a sleeping pill stronger than the one the night before.  Or Valium was acceptable.

Whatever she gave me was a miracle.  I was knocked out within half an hour.  The nurse did tell me to signal for her if I wake up in the middle of the night and she would check my vitals at the time.  I pressed the little button when I stirred at 4 AM. 

"Are you ok?" she asked?

"Oh yeah" I replied "I just woke up and thought maybe you would want to check my temperature"

"I did two hours ago but you were out cold and didn't feel a thing.  I took your temperature in your armpit.  All is good."

Now those are some mighty fine drugs!

Week One

I have surpassed my first week after treatments and very happy to report that I have not experienced any side effects yet.  No nausea, vomiting, loss of taste/ appetite, metallic taste in mouth or fatigue. 

7-10 days after chemo is when my immune system is at its lowest and I was trudging through snow to cut spruce boughs to make swags outside the house.  I know this round was my easiest because my body was a "chemo virgin."  It will get worse with each round but I am hoping and praying that because I haven't experienced anything yet, the next time will go smoothly and I can have a decent Christmas and New Years.  After that, January and February are crappy months and hibernation isn't necessarily a bad thing.  My last chemo treatment will be March and I expect to be so bloody happy to have that part of the tour behind me.

By the way - Please do not refer to this as "my journey."  The term is too hokey and too "pink ribbon" for me.  I prefer "Tour" and I'm performing a show at different hospitals in the city.  But my home stage is the General. 

The home nurse came over on Tuesday to remove my tubes.  He was easily 250 lbs and 6'4.  Boy, did they ever stick him in the wrong place.  I have low ceilings.  And he is assigned to me throughout my treatments.  I think when he said "Hopefully I won't have to see you again until the end to gather your file" had a double meaning.   He told me one of the drugs I took the day of my treatment was a steroid.   That explains the chicken wing cravings and sky rocketed appetite.  After he left, I removed the hand held shower, replaced it with my old shower head and took the world's longest shower.  I was in my happy place again.  I now have a large lump under the skin and can feel the tube that goes into my neck.  It's not that bad.  At least, I can work out again; just with some limitations for the next 8 weeks.

I thought I was well prepared to start treatments.  I purchased new humidifiers, gentle skin care, special toothpaste, made arrangements for work, etc.  The one thing I overlooked was snow removal.  I was lying in bed on Tuesday, during the first snow storm of the season when I had an "oh shit" moment around 9:30 PM.  Living in the Market, I have street parking but digging is required when the plow passes.  Now I have a few more weeks of healing around the port area and shoveling is one of the activities that shouldn't be on the list.  Being creative and resourceful, I asked a homeless crack head (he has no fixed address and pretty confident on the latter statement) to shovel and brush off my car for 20$.  Sadly, he got a job and was too tired... 2 nights in a row. 

The hardest part is laying low.  This would have been so much easier if I started treatments in June when people are not sick.  I read Facebook for updates on the cold/flu season like some people check the Weather Network.  Tonight, two new people updated their Facebook statuses to include the flu and its been that way over the past week.  Spies at work inform me as to who is sick.  Needless to say I have stayed at home, with a quick outing for groceries and a walk in the morning for a coffee because I make crappy coffee.  I did sneak out to see my Godson on Friday evening and I was assured the kids were healthy.  We sat in an empty hotel restaurant but I didn't care.  I was so happy to get out of the house and wear makeup.  I alao have been eating very healthy lately and decided to treat myself to a cone of fries and onion rings.  The problem when you cut grease out of your diet for a few weeks, you don't feel so hot when you introduce it back into your diet.  I returned to fruit and salads the next day.  I never thought I would live to see the day where I prefer a salad over fries.

Vonda told me a cute story - Her mother in law asked how I was doing and if I had lost my hair yet.  Vonda told her that I haven't yet but the minute the first clump falls out, I am planning on shaving my head (and in some twisted way, I am curious to see what I look like with no hair.)  Anyways, my God son overheard their conversation and said "Auntie Jennifer is really tough, isn't she?"

That's the best compliment I have received in a long time