Really? I'm only 3 cycles in and now my white blood cells have decided to pack up, go on holiday and not return in time for chemo #4. This is a little bit annoying as I'd geared myself up for my next treatment, warpaint and all - much like Mel Gibson from Braveheart but without the questionable Scottish accent.
I have to go back bright and breezy on Monday to have another blood test to see if they are at 1, they're at 0.7 right now so I'm what's considered moderately Neutropenic. If I'm back up to 1 I can have chemo on Monday afternoon. Yay(!)
A couple of positives to take from this small break;
1) I get to spend a nice, healthy, productive weekend with Paul.
2) If the chemo is destroying my healthy cells which do grow back, I can only imagine they are nuking any rogue cancer cells, if any remain, which don't grow back (hopefully)!
I knew all was not going to plan when we got to the day unit today and my name wasn't on the list for treatment. The receptionist asked us to go and sit in the waiting area whilst she found out what was going on.
Half an hour later, Blanquita the most amazing head nurse called my name and asked us to follow her into a side room.
Blanquita is from the Philippines. A rather round lady with the sweetest, tiniest voice and bubbly personality. So friendly and reassuring. At her request I'm to call her 'Ate' pronounced 'Atta' which means older sister in Filipino. So I do, she's my newly adopted older sister who takes care of me.
Ate asked us to sit down and she explained to us that the chemo hadn't been dispensed and she would find out why as soon as possible. I wouldn't be having it today as by the time it would be dispensed it would be far too late and they would have to keep me as an in patient, something they want to avoid when I'm fairly healthy (germy hospitals).
Ate went away to find out if I could be booked in on Monday, she came back and said my white blood count was a bit too low to have chemo today anyway so a couple more days reprieve and to get my body in a stronger place to go for #4.
So, I have another weekend of FREEEEEEDOM (apologies for the second Braveheart reference in one post), I'm going to really enjoy it, but avoid large crowds so not to catch any germs (hmmmf).
Hayley x
Showing posts with label Neutropenia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neutropenia. Show all posts
Friday, 30 March 2012
Friday, 23 March 2012
Chemotherapy #3
Friday 23rd March 2012
It's been a week since Chemo #3 and now I'm only just about getting around to post about it, slacking!
So how did it go this time?
Well it was similar to #2 but far less aggressive. My real problem is the allergic reaction that we believe Oxaliplatin gives me, the oncologist believed that this would be solved by a large dose of antihistamines and hyrdocortisone prior to the infusion which was also extended from 2 to 3 hours. A slower infusion is sometimes used to reduce the side effects. As well as my daily Clexane injections I now have a 3 day course of G-CSF injections between each cycle to prevent Neutropenia. The injections aren't bad and as long as they keep my white blood cells at an acceptable level that suits me. The last thing I want is a nasty infection to prevent me from pushing through these horrible chemo sessions!
Chemo day was quite long due to delays in getting the treatment started and we got home at about 7pm that evening. The usual symptoms had started, hands ceasing up, muscle twitching, pins and needles and the cold sensation in my fingers and toes but these are fairly manageable if not a little annoying. After avoiding food most of the day to prevent any chemo sickness I was quite hungry but decided to play it safe with soup and bread for dinner.
After waiting for a couple of hours to see if any of the allergic reactions would kick in, I began to feel quite tired, counted myself lucky and went to bed at 10.30pm......
....then 1am came around. I'd been dozing on and off but then quite suddenly the chills and aching legs had started. I woke Paul up, "I feel really sick". A few seconds later I was violently sick, I'd felt quite pleased with myself for being prepared with a sick bowl next to the bed as there was no way I was making it to the bathroom. The sickness carried on for about 10 minutes, Paul got me to drink some water when I'd finally stopped but that came back up again. Gross.
When I'd stopped throwing up a couple of minutes later, I did feel better but I noticed I was feeling hot, very hot again. Paul was already on the phone to the oncology unit at the QA and I checked my temperature. 39.2C (102F), oh dear...back to the fever again. As Paul talked to the nurse, I was popping another antihistamine and paracetamol to help bring my temperature down and stop the allergic reaction in it's tracks.
Paul and I decided (along with the nurse of course) to monitor my temperature over the next hour with the help of the paracetamol, antihistamine and many pints of water to see if this alone would help without me being admitted into hospital, again, in the middle of the night.
So over the next hour, every 10 minutes Paul took my temperature and slowly but surely it was getting lower and lower, but it was still above the magical 38C (hospital time) temperature. We called the oncology ward again for further advice and were told that if I was feeling better to keep drinking plenty of water and monitor my temperature as it was going the right way, in the interim, a bed was being prepared for me just in case. The 10 minute interval temperature taking took us to 4am, where finally it was back down to an acceptable level.
It felt like an achievement to keep me out of hospital this time, we decided to get a bit of sleep, setting the alarm for 5am to check my temperature and make any decisions then. The alarm sounded almost as soon as it was set it seemed and I was tested again, all seemed ok. More sleep. 7am, temperature was still ok.
It was a long night but I'd dodged the hospital admittance. After all that excitement, I was exhausted and slept almost solidly until 6pm Saturday night. I felt so much better for it.
That's about as eventful as the last week has been thankfully. I've mainly been in a chemo induced slumber for much of this week, only today have I had some energy. With the nice weather this weekend, I'm going to make the most of it before round #4 next Friday. That's a third of the way through chemo!
I will be having a "break" after the 6th chemo session. By break, I mean 5 weeks of 5 days a week radiotherapy. The radiotherapy is to prevent anything from coming back from the spot where the tumour was, in the surgeons words, "throwing everything they can at me" to ensure the cancer doesn't return.
Hayley x
It's been a week since Chemo #3 and now I'm only just about getting around to post about it, slacking!
So how did it go this time?
Well it was similar to #2 but far less aggressive. My real problem is the allergic reaction that we believe Oxaliplatin gives me, the oncologist believed that this would be solved by a large dose of antihistamines and hyrdocortisone prior to the infusion which was also extended from 2 to 3 hours. A slower infusion is sometimes used to reduce the side effects. As well as my daily Clexane injections I now have a 3 day course of G-CSF injections between each cycle to prevent Neutropenia. The injections aren't bad and as long as they keep my white blood cells at an acceptable level that suits me. The last thing I want is a nasty infection to prevent me from pushing through these horrible chemo sessions!
Chemo day was quite long due to delays in getting the treatment started and we got home at about 7pm that evening. The usual symptoms had started, hands ceasing up, muscle twitching, pins and needles and the cold sensation in my fingers and toes but these are fairly manageable if not a little annoying. After avoiding food most of the day to prevent any chemo sickness I was quite hungry but decided to play it safe with soup and bread for dinner.
After waiting for a couple of hours to see if any of the allergic reactions would kick in, I began to feel quite tired, counted myself lucky and went to bed at 10.30pm......
....then 1am came around. I'd been dozing on and off but then quite suddenly the chills and aching legs had started. I woke Paul up, "I feel really sick". A few seconds later I was violently sick, I'd felt quite pleased with myself for being prepared with a sick bowl next to the bed as there was no way I was making it to the bathroom. The sickness carried on for about 10 minutes, Paul got me to drink some water when I'd finally stopped but that came back up again. Gross.
When I'd stopped throwing up a couple of minutes later, I did feel better but I noticed I was feeling hot, very hot again. Paul was already on the phone to the oncology unit at the QA and I checked my temperature. 39.2C (102F), oh dear...back to the fever again. As Paul talked to the nurse, I was popping another antihistamine and paracetamol to help bring my temperature down and stop the allergic reaction in it's tracks.
Paul and I decided (along with the nurse of course) to monitor my temperature over the next hour with the help of the paracetamol, antihistamine and many pints of water to see if this alone would help without me being admitted into hospital, again, in the middle of the night.
So over the next hour, every 10 minutes Paul took my temperature and slowly but surely it was getting lower and lower, but it was still above the magical 38C (hospital time) temperature. We called the oncology ward again for further advice and were told that if I was feeling better to keep drinking plenty of water and monitor my temperature as it was going the right way, in the interim, a bed was being prepared for me just in case. The 10 minute interval temperature taking took us to 4am, where finally it was back down to an acceptable level.
It felt like an achievement to keep me out of hospital this time, we decided to get a bit of sleep, setting the alarm for 5am to check my temperature and make any decisions then. The alarm sounded almost as soon as it was set it seemed and I was tested again, all seemed ok. More sleep. 7am, temperature was still ok.
It was a long night but I'd dodged the hospital admittance. After all that excitement, I was exhausted and slept almost solidly until 6pm Saturday night. I felt so much better for it.
That's about as eventful as the last week has been thankfully. I've mainly been in a chemo induced slumber for much of this week, only today have I had some energy. With the nice weather this weekend, I'm going to make the most of it before round #4 next Friday. That's a third of the way through chemo!
I will be having a "break" after the 6th chemo session. By break, I mean 5 weeks of 5 days a week radiotherapy. The radiotherapy is to prevent anything from coming back from the spot where the tumour was, in the surgeons words, "throwing everything they can at me" to ensure the cancer doesn't return.
Hayley x
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Chemotherapy #2
Saturday 3rd March 2012
Well, this is fun!!!
Here I sit for my second night in hospital. I'm typing this entry on my phone so please excuse grammatical and spelling errors!
It all started early yesterday morning with the most excruciating feeling in my left eye. It felt like a hot piece of grit was scratching around in my eye, very strange. I do tend to suffer with mild hayfever so I thought it could just be kicking in early this year, but this felt nasty, could hardly open my eye...but this was to be the least of my worries for the day.
Got to the hospital at 8.30am on Friday for the CT scans on my lungs for anything untoward (picc line blood clot, tumour spread), ended up waiting until 10 to eventually have the scan. A CT scan is a quick and painless process, lie on a bed and move through what looks like a giant polo mint. A lady in the room next door tells you to breathe in, hold it and breathe normally. The most disturbing part of the whole process is when they inject you with the fluid to make the scan clearer. It makes you feel like you've wet yourself, yeah..pleasant!!
Anyway, that was all done and it was just a case of waiting until 1pm for chemo, all this time my eye is still kicking me in the arse. Paul made 4 trips to the pharmacy for me that day, the first being to get me some eye drops to ease the gritty feeling. A few drops later and it was already feeling better.
We went and sat in the Macmillan lounge and a really lovely volunteer chap brought us tea and biscuits, we got chatting. This gent must be in his late 60's I would guess and he told me he is 4 years clear of stage 4 bowel cancer. He spent 40 minutes talking to me about his experiences and we compared our stories. I love hearing about success stories, the fact his cancer was advanced (far more than mine is) and he's still here to tell the tale, despite the odds, living life to the full. It gives me so much hope.
1pm rolled around and it was time to be hooked up to my infusions and start round 2. Again, I felt ok. Sitting there for 3 hours, the time seemed to pass very quickly. Before I knew it the I was being unhooked and sent on my way home.
Walked outside and the cold air hit my eyes and face like hundreds of ice cold pins, such a weird sensation but that's as close as I can describe as to how it feels. Got in the car, Paul whacked the hearing up (he hates hot cars) but what a lamb he is, putting the temp up high to save my twitching face and hands!
Thankfully it only takes 10 minutes to get home, PJ's went straight on, under blanket on the sofa and this is I was intending to spend all weekend.
I should be so lucky!
Two hours later I started to feel bad. Really bad. My temperature was rising steadily, my body was shaking uncontrollably with chills and nausea took over with the eventual vom. Last time I felt this bad I had flu, or when I had glandular fever back when I was 17.
So, as per instructed by the hospital - Paul called the onc ward and told them my symptoms. Paul was already bundling me into the car before the hospital had the chance to tell us to come in.
We got to the hospital 10 minutes later, by this time I was short of breath and my legs were heavy and aching, feeling very poorly indeed.
Once we'd got to the onc ward, we were told to sit in a room whilst they prepared a bed. Pants. That really meant I was going to stay in.
After a hours wait, the on call dr tried to get a cannula in my arm. I'm not joking when I say my right arm is now battered, black and blue from bruises. She must have tried 5 times in that arm and 3 times in my left hand. My veins are shot to pieces, they are so sick of needles. The doctor finally got the cannula in my left hand, only with the help of Paul squeezing the life out my arm to get a vein to show.
Normally, the hospital would use my picc line to take bloods but the pump is attached at the moment. The doctor took blood to test for white and red blood count as well as platelets and to see if there was any infection. Whilst this was happening, I was getting hotter, chills and a rather aggressive rash was developing on my arms, face and chest.
Eventually, I got a bed and laid down ready to just pass out, I was exhausted. The doctor got the blood tests back and my levels were ok, I was pleased that I hadn't developed Neutropenia but it turned out that I was having a rather nasty allergic reaction to part of my chemo regime, so strange as I didn't have any of this last time!? The CT scan results from earlier in the day were also checked due to my breathlessness and happily the results were described as 'beautifully clear'. What a relief. Not only are there no clots, but also no evidence of cancer spread. The lungs is one of the most common places bowel cancer will metastasise.
The treatment plan for a drug rash is anti histamines, so I was injected with some concoction and told to take paracetamol to reduce my rocketing temperature of 39.7. I just wanted to sleep but I was incredibly hot, the rash was burning me so badly.
I had a very restless night, but managed a little sleep.
Morning came and I was already feeling a bit better, but not really looking it. The rash had completely enveloped my body but my temperature had gone back down to a more acceptable level. The day continued uneventfully, my onc is on call this weekend so came to see me. My chemo was safe to continue (thankfully) and anti histamines will be another drug I will have to take throughout my treatment.
So here I am, Saturday night. In hospital again. I'm on a nice ward with three other lovely ladies so it's not terrible. I've been told I should be able to go home tomorrow, fingers crossed!
Hayley x
Well, this is fun!!!
Here I sit for my second night in hospital. I'm typing this entry on my phone so please excuse grammatical and spelling errors!
It all started early yesterday morning with the most excruciating feeling in my left eye. It felt like a hot piece of grit was scratching around in my eye, very strange. I do tend to suffer with mild hayfever so I thought it could just be kicking in early this year, but this felt nasty, could hardly open my eye...but this was to be the least of my worries for the day.
Got to the hospital at 8.30am on Friday for the CT scans on my lungs for anything untoward (picc line blood clot, tumour spread), ended up waiting until 10 to eventually have the scan. A CT scan is a quick and painless process, lie on a bed and move through what looks like a giant polo mint. A lady in the room next door tells you to breathe in, hold it and breathe normally. The most disturbing part of the whole process is when they inject you with the fluid to make the scan clearer. It makes you feel like you've wet yourself, yeah..pleasant!!
Anyway, that was all done and it was just a case of waiting until 1pm for chemo, all this time my eye is still kicking me in the arse. Paul made 4 trips to the pharmacy for me that day, the first being to get me some eye drops to ease the gritty feeling. A few drops later and it was already feeling better.
We went and sat in the Macmillan lounge and a really lovely volunteer chap brought us tea and biscuits, we got chatting. This gent must be in his late 60's I would guess and he told me he is 4 years clear of stage 4 bowel cancer. He spent 40 minutes talking to me about his experiences and we compared our stories. I love hearing about success stories, the fact his cancer was advanced (far more than mine is) and he's still here to tell the tale, despite the odds, living life to the full. It gives me so much hope.
1pm rolled around and it was time to be hooked up to my infusions and start round 2. Again, I felt ok. Sitting there for 3 hours, the time seemed to pass very quickly. Before I knew it the I was being unhooked and sent on my way home.
Walked outside and the cold air hit my eyes and face like hundreds of ice cold pins, such a weird sensation but that's as close as I can describe as to how it feels. Got in the car, Paul whacked the hearing up (he hates hot cars) but what a lamb he is, putting the temp up high to save my twitching face and hands!
Thankfully it only takes 10 minutes to get home, PJ's went straight on, under blanket on the sofa and this is I was intending to spend all weekend.
I should be so lucky!
Two hours later I started to feel bad. Really bad. My temperature was rising steadily, my body was shaking uncontrollably with chills and nausea took over with the eventual vom. Last time I felt this bad I had flu, or when I had glandular fever back when I was 17.
So, as per instructed by the hospital - Paul called the onc ward and told them my symptoms. Paul was already bundling me into the car before the hospital had the chance to tell us to come in.
We got to the hospital 10 minutes later, by this time I was short of breath and my legs were heavy and aching, feeling very poorly indeed.
Once we'd got to the onc ward, we were told to sit in a room whilst they prepared a bed. Pants. That really meant I was going to stay in.
After a hours wait, the on call dr tried to get a cannula in my arm. I'm not joking when I say my right arm is now battered, black and blue from bruises. She must have tried 5 times in that arm and 3 times in my left hand. My veins are shot to pieces, they are so sick of needles. The doctor finally got the cannula in my left hand, only with the help of Paul squeezing the life out my arm to get a vein to show.
Normally, the hospital would use my picc line to take bloods but the pump is attached at the moment. The doctor took blood to test for white and red blood count as well as platelets and to see if there was any infection. Whilst this was happening, I was getting hotter, chills and a rather aggressive rash was developing on my arms, face and chest.
Eventually, I got a bed and laid down ready to just pass out, I was exhausted. The doctor got the blood tests back and my levels were ok, I was pleased that I hadn't developed Neutropenia but it turned out that I was having a rather nasty allergic reaction to part of my chemo regime, so strange as I didn't have any of this last time!? The CT scan results from earlier in the day were also checked due to my breathlessness and happily the results were described as 'beautifully clear'. What a relief. Not only are there no clots, but also no evidence of cancer spread. The lungs is one of the most common places bowel cancer will metastasise.
The treatment plan for a drug rash is anti histamines, so I was injected with some concoction and told to take paracetamol to reduce my rocketing temperature of 39.7. I just wanted to sleep but I was incredibly hot, the rash was burning me so badly.
I had a very restless night, but managed a little sleep.
Morning came and I was already feeling a bit better, but not really looking it. The rash had completely enveloped my body but my temperature had gone back down to a more acceptable level. The day continued uneventfully, my onc is on call this weekend so came to see me. My chemo was safe to continue (thankfully) and anti histamines will be another drug I will have to take throughout my treatment.
So here I am, Saturday night. In hospital again. I'm on a nice ward with three other lovely ladies so it's not terrible. I've been told I should be able to go home tomorrow, fingers crossed!
Hayley x
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Chemotherapy #1
I wanted to update the blog earlier, but I've been so busy (and not in a good way) and this is the first opportunity that I've been able to get near the laptop.
So, I've had one chemo session already, only 11 more to go! I started the cycle last Friday morning and I'm thankful to say that the process wasn't as scary as I'd built it up in my mind. Paul and I were taken to a side room to start the process. We were looked after by a very attentive and caring Oncology nurse who explained the whole process of administering my particular regime. No mucking about, she got got straight to work hooking me up to a saline solution to flush my line, then anti-sickness, steroids and anti-diarrhea all to help with the nasty potential side effects of the chemo.
Once these had all been given I started the chemo, Oxaliplatn with Fluorouracil (5FU) and Folonic acid, or FOLFOX for short. This is the special elixir which will stop this disease coming back, it made me feel better to think about it coursing through my body and kicking any stray cancer cells butts. Take that you little sods!
Me with "Johnny 5" from the film Short Circuit:
I must admit, I didn't feel any different while the infusion was taking place. Paul kept asking me if I was ok and I felt fine...again this was a huge relief. I have read some horror stories where people have an immediate reaction to chemo, this is something that I had a huge fear of. As much as I hate having to take this toxic drug, it's there to help me and I didn't want anything to hinder that.
The nurse continued to reassure me and also give me a few tips of advise. The most alarming was the threat of Neutropenia, something of which that is not ideal when on chemo....I've got myself an electric thermometer at my side at all times now. If my temperature rises to 38C, I have to get to the hospital within an hour without any delay and have antibiotics administered. Scary stuff, hopefully I can avoid this through my treatment...could do without that, it could delay treatments.
Two hours later, my infusion was finished and I was unhooked from the pump, but that's not the end of it unfortunately. Part of the Fluorouracil (5FU) treatment is to take it home on a little pump and the infusion will continue for the next 46 hours. As you can see from the photo, it's the size of a baby's bottle, so nothing too large.
Got home on Friday after my first chemotherapy session and was feeling quite pleased with myself. I sat down and Paul got me a cold drink, that's when the first of two side effects to really hit me. I took one sip of it and the water felt like lots of little pins and needles in my mouth and throat, a common side effect called Peripheral Neuropathy. It was a really weird and fairly unpleasant sensation, but thankfully very avoidable. Lukewarm and hot drinks for me from now on! The other side effect I experienced was tiredness, something easily managed by having a good doze! The infusion carried on until Sunday morning and I was very lucky so far to have very minimal effects of my first treatment.
I was happy to arrive at the hospital on Sunday to have the pump removed and the dressing changed, I felt a bit more back to normal without having to carry the pump with me everywhere. I'm sure I'll find a system with it as I have more treatments, but I found the best way to deal with it was to wear cardigans with pockets in them.
So, on with the new week I went with the hope that all I feel is tired until the next chemo round starts on 2nd March. Unfortunately, things are never that simple!
During Monday daytime, I started to develop a heaviness at the top of my chest and into my right shoulder and neck. This got progressively worse on Monday night and my chest was tightening more and more. This was starting to make me panic. The more I panicked and stressed, the worse it got. I wasn't feeling very good at all.
I called the Oncology day unit and they suggested getting an emergency appointment with my GP. This was arranged and off we went to see a Dr who was standing in for my GP who was on holiday that day. I must admit, I did have a little cry in front of the Dr. I was scared, stressed and thought I was on the verge of a heart attack. The Dr checked my obs and I was fine but she did want a blood test to see if I had any signs of blood clots. After blood was taken, I was told to wait in the seating area for 10 minutes whilst the results came through. Unfortunately the results were positive for a blood clot so another trip to the hospital for me.
I took the letter the Dr had given me up to the Medical Assessment Unit and was seen to quite quickly by the team there. I had an ECG which was normal. A chest X-ray, which was normal and another blood test which was also normal. Normal!!! I was starting to think I was going mad and the stress was starting to take it's toll. The Dr didn't think I had any blood clots, but to be on the safe side I was given a course of Clexane to thin the blood and prevent any blood clots forming and was suggested to come in at a later date for a full scan of my lungs in case there is any clots. Great, but I still feel crappy!
Got home that night and my arm with the picc line was starting to get progressively more heavy, swollen and achy but brushed it off as the picc line still being new and irritating my arm slightly.
Tuesday morning, I was in agony with my arm. I phoned the oncology day unit again and this time they suggested I come straight to the day unit so the oncology Dr could take a look at it. The Dr wasn't very happy with the swelling and suggested an ultrasound on my arm. After a short wait at the Vascular department (I think I've visited every department in that hospital now) my arm was scanned and lo and behold, a blood clot was found - wrapping itself right around my picc line.
Great, I thought that was it. Picc line would have to be removed and chemo regime back to the drawing board. We went back to the oncology department, he took one look at the results of the arm scan and said that the line could be left in. Hmm, I wasn't convinced by this plan, however he explained that the blood thinners I was on would prevent any further clots and that my body would eventually reabsorb the clot that was around my picc line. It does mean that I will probably have the blood thinning injections until early September, but I suppose there are worse things!
Today, I've taken the opportunity to have a good sit down and rest after such a hectic two days at the hospital and I'm already feeling better for it. My arm is still swollen but it's not as painful as it was, I'm hoping it's starting to settle down now. Looking forward to my next week of freedom before the chemo #2 starts.
Hayley x
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