The End of Round 1

01.14.96 - 01.18.96

Due to the steady state of nausea and vomiting and more so, the constant stream of antiemetics, it is impossible for me to break down the time period between 1/14 and 1/18. The chemo was still doing it's job and fighting the cancer... but, it was also still wreaking havoc on the other non-cancer parts of my body.    

Earning a trip home

By Thursday, January 18th, I had been free of chemo for 3 days.  I was starting to tolerate the nausea without the same support from antiemetics but still felt "sick".  Nothing about the food delivered from the cafeteria looked good, except that it was my ticket home.  "You can go home today but we have to make sure you're keeping food down and drinking enough.  You also have to shower and go to the bathroom," my physicians explained to me.  "Shower? ugh.  I don't even know where the shower is!"  I thought.  Obviously, if you're peeing in a bedpan, you don't make the effort to get up and use the shower.  But now, I would have to.  My nurse detached me from the IV pole.  "I'm free!" I thought in excitement.  It was the first time in 10 days that I wasn't connected to a machine.  

Mirror, Mirror... 

What happened next will be imprinted in my memory forever.  My mother helped me steady my legs and supported me as I slowly shuffled over to the sink in my room.  I looked in the mirror and in disbelief saw someone I didn't recognize.  The girl in the mirror was definitely sick - DYING sick.  My long brown hair was greasy and just hung on my head.  My skin was pale and my right eye was completely red.  I was almost surprised that my mom didn't look as shocked as I was- but of course, why would she?  She had been with me, watching her daughter deteriorate for the past week and a half.  For me; however, this was all new, very new.  The physicians were not concerned about my eye as it was only a byproduct of the excessive vomiting - I didn't move for 8+ days and since I continued to vomit off to my right side, all of the blood vessels in my right eye popped making all of the white, red.  "Well, I can at least fix the hair," I thought as we prepared to head down the hall to the shower.

The Shower

Although the first couple of steps felt liberating, by the time we made it to the small, shower room I had to sit down.  "I'm going to puke," I told my mom.  In her infinite mom-wisdom my mother said, "Just take your time.  There's no rush."  After all... there really wasn't any rush.  I felt an urgency to get out but this wasn't the end.  Instead it was merely the beginning.  With the water running for at least 30 minutes, I continued to try to work up the courage to get into the shower only to feel nauseous again, and sit back down on the bench.  I was acutely aware that too much vomiting could keep me in for another night.  Eventually, I was able to climb into the shower and sit on the shower floor.  Getting clean, especially washing my hair, improved my mood and the nausea a little.  Then, I threw on some clean clothes- MY clothes, and we embarked back to my room ready to complete the "in order to go home checklist."  

Learning to Live with Tubes

A normal, non-chemo-receiving person would have to be careful about not getting an infection when he/she had tubes hanging out of their chest, especially when those tubes lived in the veins that fed directly into their heart.  Of course, I was no normal person.  I was a kid that just received really bad-ass chemo and no longer had a resemblence of an immune system.  Thus, infection was a HUGE concern.  Consequently, there were very detailed care instructions for my tubes.  Immediately following the shower my nurse had to teach my mom and I how to take care of the broviac, or as we now started lovingly calling it, the Brovy.  

1.) Shower only every other day, or way less!

2.) Change the Brovy dressing (bandage area) immediately after showering

3.) No swimming

4.) Absolutely NO wrestling with my brother

5.) Flush (rinse out) the tubes with Heparin twice a day to prevent clots using a syringe

6.) Change the caps on the tubes once a week

Showing off a "Brovy."

My nurse then taught us how to change the dressing.  Unfortunately, for me and even more so for my mom, the process was anything but short.  Everything had to be done in proper sterile fashion and the entire process easily took 20-30 minutes.  There was no cutting corners because this legitimately was life or death.

Broviac Dressing Changing Kit

One of the many instructions for
changing the dressing.

Swabbing the site with Betadine.

By the time I was actually granted permission to leave the hospital, I was more than ready.  It felt great to be out of the hospital bed and I could not wait to see my little brother and our beagle, Heidi.

My little brother and I were best friends, despite the typical sibling rivalry.  We were both nuts but the same kind of nuts... and we LOVED being goofy together.  Unfortunately, for infection reasons and because my parents didn't want to scare him (heck, I scared myself after looking in the mirror), I hadn't seen my brother for 10 whole days.  I simply couldn't wait to get home!

    

Cancer Day 12 - complete

Hair: check

Indifferent about food: check

Feeling tired and weak: check
Showering less than once a week: check

Tubes and scars: check

Number of Daily meds: approx. 9

My goal for this blog is to raise awareness, support, and donations for ongoing cancer research.  Please  make a donation  today to support this cause - 100% goes directly to cancer-fighting.

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