Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Day 2

It was certainly strange sleeping with the pump attached to my chest… but I slept all the same. Got up early and luckily wasn’t feeling too nauseous. Breakfast took a while and some sort of shower took even longer.

It was certainly nice to spend an entire morning without worrying about someone showing up at 11:30 to stick me with a needle. I actually had enough energy to catch up with a bit of e-mail. I mostly went over what is going on in APESA (the Anglophone section parents’ association at Jessica's school of which I am supposed to be the president). There’s a lot happening there at the moment and it felt good to be at least a bit involved and kept up to date.

I went out to grab a sandwich at the bakery and pickup some more medicine from the chemists. Unfortunately the chemist closes at lunch time, which I always find ridiculous, and the bakery didn’t have anything interesting left. I therefore strolled down to my local café / bar and had a sandwich there. It felt good standing up at the bar at my “usual” like a normal person. They hopefully couldn’t see the pump hidden under my shirt and under my jacket. I’m sure they noticed the scar. But no one said anything. They may have noticed the x-ray therapy markings on my chest but I doubt anyone looked that closely. I was a good feeling to stand at the bar and have lunch like others. The barman (Pierrot) was a bit shocked when he proposed me my usual choice (panache or Côtes) and I had a coke instead. A panaché is a half-half mixture of beer and lemonade and a Côtes is short for a glass of red Côtes de Rhône (Rhône valley red wine). He must have thought I had too much to drink the night before. The coke tasted awful but the sandwich tasted OK. I actually had a coffee which tasted pretty good as well.

Back home and off to the clinic. Today was my first x-ray therapy. It didn’t take long and it certainly didn’t hurt. It takes longer to strap me in and get me in to position than it does to actually carry out the treatment. They shot me with 3 sets of rays. It doesn’t hurt but I can feel warmth where they shoot. They did one on the left, one on the right and one in the middle. From how it felt it appears as though they’re starting from the bottom and working their way up. About five minutes later they were unstrapping me and sending me off to chemo.

Chemo was just like yesterday. They asked me repeatedly how I was, how I slept and if I had any nausea, constipation or that sort of thing. No nausea and I’m dealing with the other problem. They disconnected the pump and connected the “cocktail”. I had my eyes closed so I didn’t see really notice what was going on. I had a new young nurse who I fear was a bit underexperienced. Later on, when they changed the bag the first time, I realized that she had done things in the wrong order. Normally they dilute me with this hydration bag first, then antinausea medication, then the chemo and finally another dilution. Each dilution takes an hour so they inject the antinausea medication just before the chemo so as to enforce the effect. The nurse started me with the antinausea medication today before the dilution. Yesterday’s nurse, Barbara, reassured me that it should not be a problem. I was reassured at about 85%... we’ll see how it goes.

I lied back and listened to my relaxing music and then a bit of Modern Jazz Quartet and finally a bit of James Carter. About an hour before everything was finished Jessica showed up to keep me company and accompany me home. She sat reading her English homework (Wuthering Heights) and then played with my Palm for a bit. When it was all finished they strapped a new pump on me and off we went. It was actually quite late today, about 18:50, when we finished.

I called a cab from the local taxi point and by the time I got the entrance someone else had taken it. I called another cab from the local taxi point, at the same time another patient called a cab, her cab arrived and mine never arrived. Finally I used my normal taxi company (Taxi G7) and got a cab in about 10 minutes. But it was still about 19:20 before we were on the way home.

Desney had dinner just about waiting for us when we got home. We had chicken and salad and Desney made me some extra pasta and pesto so I’d have something good and solid in me to prepare for tomorrow’s treatment.

The chemo definitely knocks me for a loop for a while afterwards. Slightly dizzy and definitely drowsy and if I get up too quick from a sitting position the world turns without me. It’s almost like being ever so slightly drunk or tipsy without the pleasure of the alcohol and, so far, without the pains of a hangover.

This is the good period. I am not in any real pain. I can eat solid foods and drink what I want. The treatments don’t actually hurt and I’m getting through day by day. I’m just waiting as I know, in the back of my mind, that the cumulated effects of the treatment, in a couple of weeks’ time, are not going to be enjoyable. But I am living for the moment at the moment and enjoying what pleasurable time I have left…

1 comment:

Jerry said...

Derek,
I am glad, in the absense of being able to converse or interact with you daily, to have these updates. I am more and more amazed, every day, with how much I take things for granted, like the ability to taste, or a simple shower, or the opportunity to pimp slap someone for trying to steal my cab. I am reminded of Thornton Wilder and the recurring theme throughout some of his fine literature, of the little things being what are really important. Now we have this incredible blogosphere, which I scoffed at until recently, and now look forward to every day to keep up with your progress. I continue to be impressed with your ability to process this experience, in writing, which is a catharsis of sorts and to relate it to us and keep us in the loop, while maintaining your composure througout. I just wanted you to know I am still here and checking up on you every day and keep you in my thoughts, as does Sharon and I am sure numerous other people. Keep your chins up.