Fanny pack, my ass!

At 11:30 AM today, my brother picked me up, so I could be on time for my noon appointment for my first round of mitomycin and 5FU - I think the 5 stands for the time I was finally able to leave the building and the FU is self explanatory. I waited in the waiting room until 2:00 PM, because they were running behind. It was more like crawling behind. So, I finally got back to the infusion room and they took my vitals which were high, in the case of my blood pressure. Then they moved me to a reclining chair in pod 2, I believe. Pod 2 had room for 4 cancer patients getting infused, or in my case, waiting to get infused. First the nurse accessed my port, which for some reason hurt worse than any other time. Then they ran some saline in me, checked the blood return from the port (which I did not want to hear about or witness), drew some blood to check my blood count levels, and finally got the machine to stop beeping. After a little while, our whole pod was full of happy cancer patients. I was actually one of the younger people in my pod, but the other three were men who, except for one, had more hair than I do. None were having as much fun as I, though. 

So, they sent my blood off to the lab to get the results, then the computer system went down, and from then on, things had to be done manually. You can imagine how that might slow things down on a Monday that was already overbooked and running 3 hours behind. My brother and I were already getting tired from doing nothing. I had to quit using my computer when the system went down, so I just sat and waited. I tried to lie back in the recliner, but the angle of the probably expensive chairs was such that my neck had no support, so I abandoned the reclining idea. One of the many nurses who was running around was wearing heels - she was supposed to be working at a desk today - came around and did a tap dance and sang for us. I joined in on the chorus. We all clapped for her at the end. Another nurse wearing a top covered in a design of candy corn brought me some candy corn, which I love. She also showed us a doll that looked like an old witch that sang a song and moved when you touched her hand in the right spot. I used to do that when I was younger if the right guy came along.  

Another nurse came and gave me a huge bag filled with things for the 5FU pump: a spill kit, which NO ONE has ever had to use, and something to put everything in on Friday when they pick up the fanny pack and de-access the port. She had me sign papers about the pump. I have no idea what they said, and she said some papers were missing, too. It doesn't matter what it says. I'm going to do the treatments, so why depress myself by reading that one side effect is that I may grown another asshole, and it, too, will have cancer. My brother and I were trying to adjust the strap of the fanny pack which contains the 5FU, and he announced that it was easier to make it smaller than it was to make it bigger. So I, of course, said, "Said the chorus girl to the Bishop." The nurse was glancing at us, and I told her we were brother and sister, so this type of bantering was in good fun, and not marital jabbing. 

Finally, the mitomycin had been sent up from the pharmacy, and after giving me the pre-drugs to combat any side effects, they gave me 15 minutes of mitomycin chemotherapy. After that was over, I was hooked up to the fanny pack and told I could leave. So the actual treatment lasted about 25 minutes, but we were there for 5FU hours.

Which brings me to the real reason for this topic tonight. They kept telling me, "It's like a little fanny pack that you wear for 96 hours (4 days 24/7)." This fanny pack would fit King Kong's fanny. It's enormbutt. At the moment, it is filled with chemo drugs that must last until Friday at 5:00 PM, so it's rather heavy, too. There is no comfortable way to wear this monstrosity. At least it's black, so it goes with everything and looks smaller than it really is and it's so big that it makes my butt look smaller. At the moment, I am wearing it like a crossover purse. When I went on the doggy walk, I wore it like a fanny pack, but it threatened to strangle whatever might be emerging from the colostomy bag and was pulling my jeans down, too, so I've switched to the purse carrying method. The people (doctors, nurses, etc.) who told me about the "fanny pack" were so nonchalant when they talked about it, that I should have known they were hiding something. No one ever actually showed me one or even a picture of one, because they would have needed King Kong to model it. I asked the nurse today if the pump was loud. I think her response was an "I don't think it's loud." Well, most of the time, it's not loud, but every few minutes, it makes a whirring sound that should really help me sleep the next three nights. I have to lay it on the night stand while I sleep, and it has a long cord that goes from my port to the fanny pack. Of course, I have fears of pulling the cord out of the port, which hurt like hell going in, so I can only imagine the delight in dislodging it. And when I mentioned to the nurse how difficult showering would be, she said, "I just tell people to take baths." Great! How convenient. I'll be freezing from the waist up with my colostomy under water, my port above water, and my cold bald head above it all. 

At least there are just 4 more days of baths and stress free sleep. Did I tell you that one of the self-care tips is "Get plenty of rest"? Another is "Avoid contact sports or activities that could cause injury." The person who would be injured is whoever makes contact with King Kong's fanny pack. Oh, and radiation starts tomorrow at 10:00 AM or 1:00 PM, depending on if they are overbooked, backed up, and the computers are down. Drop by anytime and say hi, if you're in the neighborhood. I'll be there.