The title of this post refers to chemo drugs, in particular, Mitomycin, one of the chemo drugs that I had to take during radiation. I hope I never have to take it again, because it knocked me out. Not only does it kill what's inside of you, namely, the tumor, but it does a number on the rest of your insides, too. I got this drug as an outpatient at the infusion center, and it only takes fifteen minutes for the infusion. The TIP drugs, which I had to have inpatient, were infused over several hours, but they weren't nearly as bad as the Mitomycin. It's also a vesicant, which means it's a chemical that causes extensive tissue damage and blistering if it escapes from the vein. There's a warm and fuzzy for you!
I got the Mitomycin on 11/11 along with the King Kong fanny pack of 5FU, which I had to wear for five days. The 5FU fanny pack was not as bad this time, and the time seemed to go faster. But each day after the Mitomycin, I was getting weaker and weaker. I would get up, take a few steps, then have to rest, before continuing. I wasn't out of breath, just weak and very tired. I was sleeping about 18 - 20 hours a day. My dogs were very patient as I tried to prepare their meals, because I'd have to sit down between each step of preparing their meals, so it took me much longer to get them their food. I missed six days of work because of the extreme fatigue. On 11/22, I had to get a transfusion because my blood counts were so low.
I hit my nadir (low point) on 11/24 which was a Sunday and a "make-up" day for one of the radiations I had missed. My nieces were coming over to take me to the radiation, because I hadn't been feeling well enough to drive. This day, I felt the worst. It started with me vomiting in bed, but in the handy dandy vomit bag, the one you can measure your vomit in! I hadn't been eating a lot, so it was mostly grape juice and orange juice. When I was able to get out of bed, I took a shower, sitting on the shower stool. I think that was just too much exertion for me, because when I got out, I had a case of dueling fluids trying to escape from my body. I was trying to put on the ostomy pouch when I had to vomit again. I managed to vomit in the toilet (sorry, I wasn't able to measure this time) and was still trying to get the pouch in place, when I was overcome by explosive diarrhea, before I could fasten the bottom of the pouch. So, there I stood, with liquid crap all over the floor, the toilet, the rugs, my recently washed feet, and my dog, Finn, who insists on being near me in the bathroom whatever the occasion. When I'm not in the shower, Finn lies in the shower, which is his safe place. Too bad he didn't get in it behind the curtain before the diarrhea hit. Since I was there alone, except for Finn, I had to muster some strength and clean up the mess. If I had felt better, I would have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
My nieces arrived and I told them that I had taken my temperature which was 102, and I'd called the oncall doctor who said for me to go to the ER. So I then called my advocates, my brother and his wife, to take me there. They helped me up to the car after packing a few items, and we drove to the hospital. Luckily, it wasn't busy, so I got in quickly, although I was in the ER for about seven hours waiting for test results and a room in the cancer wing. The staff in the ER was very nice, and I was covered in warm blankets until I finally got so hot that I had them all removed. I think my fever had broken.
When I was admitted to the hospital and the blood work came back, they decided to give me two more transfusions. I asked them to not talk about the blood and to make sure the pole and bags were not in my peripheral vision. I made sure that I didn't look at the line going into my port, too.
I was released on Tuesday, my shorted hospital stay so far! I have had more energy since the transfusions and my blood counts are going where they need to be. Thanks to the folks who donate blood, so people like me can walk without having to rest every three minutes!
And finally, yesterday was my last radiation treatment! If the scans which won't be for another month or two, after the radiation stops working, show that the cancer is gone, I won't need any more radiation or chemo. The radiation therapists gave me a diploma congratulating me for going through the treatments. Dr. BigHands, his nurse, and all the therapists signed it. They all told me that I had to ring the bell when I went back out through the waiting room. So, I went over and pulled the cord and rang the bell three times. The receptionists started applauding and the other patients followed suit. One guy told me his last treatment is Friday and that he was going to pray for me. If you're going to be in a club that you never wanted to be in, it's good to be in one where you get a lot of support, not just from your family and friends, but from strangers who just want a cure. I hope they all get their wish. I know something about what they are going through, and they all deserve applause and a happy ending.
