First Chemo

I got us packed and on the road by 8:45 this morning. We felt pretty rested now that we are sleeping four hours straight at a time.

It was an easy trip north this morning. Although I assured Jamie that I could navigate by memory at least as far as Seattle, she turned the navigation on as we pulled out of the driveway. It must give her that piece of mind that someone will be chirping at me giving directions even if she nods off for a quick nap.

We arrived at the SCCA with time and spare and got parked. After a brief misdirect to the third floor, we found our way to infusion on the 5th. Once Jamie let the receptionist know this was our first appointment, she happily gave us lots of instruction on where and what to do. She also apologized for things being a bit busy, but hoped we would not be too delayed.

Well they must consider 5 minutes to be a delay here, because we barley sat down and she was calling our name, and pointed us down the hall to room 23.

Jamie and I really did not know what to expect or what the process would be like. Our only frame of reference is that one “Sex in the City” episode where all the girls went with Samantha to one of her chemo sessions. My recollection of that scene is that the patient sat in one of those recliner chairs in an open clinic type setting, with the guests on folding chairs forming a semi circle while they all simulated oral sex on popsicles.

We found room 23 to be a fully enclosed mini hospital room with bed, guest recliner chair and all the other standard hospital accoutrements. Today’s nurse, Daniel, entered eagerly introducing himself and asking us what we knew or wanted to know about today’s agenda. Although I had received and read a fair amount of information on the drugs to be given while we were at the hospital, Jamie was a bit foggy at the time and thus needed a refresher. Daniel was happy to share, giving her a complete run down on the day’s medications, including handouts.

Daniel, a former 7 SE nurse himself, knew many of our caretakers from just weeks ago. This also explains why he was sure to share the Infusion nourishment center policies to me, which to my surprise were described as “liberal” and “open”. He actually encouraged me to visit and feel comfortable looking around and exploring.

Forced to contain myself long enough to help Jamie eat her lunch and get settled with her first IV’s, it felt like Christmas morning when I finally got the opportunity to go down the hall. Out in the open, unencumbered by walls or doors, is a small kitchenette, complete with microwave, refrigerator and cupboards full of tasty snacks and beverages. I returned to #23 to share my news, but found Jamie groggy from her Benadryl and frankly a bit disinterested.

As of 2:15 we are through the preliminary stuff; Zantax, Benadryl and a steroid and now into the first of two chemo drugs; Paclitaxel (Taxol). They started her off at a slow rate, but as there was no adverse reaction in the first hour, she is now sucking it up at full pace. Once we get through then it is on to the Carboplatin (Paraplatin).

Daniel his very outgoing and we soon found that we all had lots in common; guns, dogs, trucks and power tools. Daniel grew up in Sunnyslope, which many know is just a few minutes from where Jamie and I grew up. His family had horses and mules as well as a few head of cattle. Much of his outdoors time was spent in the Olympics, a favorite spot of ours.

During Daniel’s discourse on the medications he was dispensing, he was sure to emphasis those which would impair Jamie’s reasoning skills and thus presented the best opportunity to get approval for a new power tool purchase.

At first we discussed the 24 volt lithium batteried Milwaukee cordless tool set. “Oooh the one at Costco”, he replied. He said that he had the Craftsman 19.6v set and was quite please with the power and felt that the cordless feature greatly improved his efficiency on home projects. I concurred and mentioned my most popular and obvious argument which is safety. With corded tools there is always the chance that you could get tangled up in the cord, wrapping it around your legs and tripping yourself. Or even worse, getting a loop around your neck, slowly strangling yourself. Being a health care professional, he certainly seemed to want to endorse the safety argument, but was frank and said that it was not obvious to him how the strangulation scenario would actually be initiated.

But quick to recognize an opportunity, I am holding out for a GMC Durmax diesel, a comment which of course turned our conversation on trucks. He conferred that the Nissan Titan was a good ½ ton truck, which at the time we both purchased, was definitely superior to the F150, GM 1500 series and of course the Toyota Tundra in terms of power, comfort and available options for the $. His only complaint was fuel mileage, but there is always a price for being cool, and frankly I know that our12 mpg pisses Al Gore off. I wonder if Al drives a Prius around to all these movie promos?

Now more than an hour into the Paclitaxel, and a few trips to the bathroom Jamie is doing ok. I have heard a few complaints about bloating and a little sweating, but it feels hot in here to me as too. Our little room is a bit of a green house, with glass partitions on two sides. From where I sit this affords me a good view of the main hall as well as the nurses’ station. The nurses keep pulling the curtains closed to supposedly to maintain Jamie’s modesty, but I know it to keep me from spying on them.
One other item I need to share before Jamie sends me out on an errand is that all the room and station sinks are foot pedal operated. I told Jamie that I would like to add this feature to our home and she replied “sounds like something Martin would do”. What the hell does that mean? Sorry Martin, but I am not sure that was a complement.