My appointment was for 9am, so I left the house at 8am with a packed lunch (Cheetos, a vitamin water and a Blu Moo sandwich from Z&H on 47th-- the best sandwich shop on the Southside [if anyone deserves free publicity its them]).
I checked into hematology at 9am exactly and headed back to the treatment room sporting a blue hospital wrist band. I snagged the last chair; it was a packed house, and 3 of us were there for Zevalin treatments (the nurses were referring to us as the triplets).
For those not in the know: chemotherapy is given through an IV over a number of hours. You sit in a sort of low rent dentist chair. It’s coated in pleather and reclines, but, not unlike airplane seating, it doesn’t recline enough to be comfortable. At the hospital I’m currently getting treated at, the seats are heated—that’s huge; rituximab gives me the shivers, so I appreciate a warmed rear.
So,the waiting began. I had gotten my blood drawn at a different hospital the night before (insurance issues-- don't ask). Of course, the results of the blood test hadn't been faxed over yet, or if they had been faxed over, they were lost, then, once my test results were finally found, my drugs had to be ordered from the pharmacy. Long story short, I was in the chair twiddling my thumbs for an hour and a half before I was even hooked up to an IV(being the holiday season, I had "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" running through my head-- you know, the part that explains exactly why the Grinch hates the Whos' celebration, except, instead of "oh, the noise, noise, NOISE," I was thinking "oh, the waiting, waiting, WAITING").
I don't have a port. After 4 years of chemo, my veins have whithered into tiny scared things, and generally hide from needles. Hence it took 2 pokes to get me going. Then, things generally went down like any other chemo day: I was given 2 pills (tylenol and benadryl), and my nurse (Nurse Denise) hung a bag of rituximab on my IV. The benadryl makes me sleepy and, as mentioned before, the rituximab gives me the shivers. In the chair, sleepiness and chills were my only side effects. I ate my Cheetos and 1/2 of the sandwich before giving up against the drowsy and falling asleep.
At about 1:00, my pump beeped empty (the IVs are run through pumps. At intervals, they beep to allow the nurses to increase the speed the chemicals are being pumped into you [if everything is going well, that is] and to notify the nurses when you're all finished.) I was unplugged and Nurse Denise wrapped up my tubes to take to Radiology (apparently, the rituximab sorta' primes the tube, so you're given the Zevalin dose through the same tube that the the rituximab was administered.)
Two nurses accompanied the triplets and a couple of family members downstairs to Radiology. For the other 2 patients, this was their 2nd dose. Apparently for their first dose, the nurses got lost leading "the twins" to Radiology. There were several jokes about this on the way down. Predictably, we got lost again.
I was the second in line to receive my Zevalin dose. I was brought into a code locked, windowless room that I'm sure is routinely used for storage. There were 2 techs in the room and Nurse Diane. I sat in a folding chair with my arm resting over a lined TV tray. Nurse Diane hung an IV bag and re-attached my tubing. Robert, one of the techs, sat in a folding chair opposite me with a red capped, metal encased syringe that he popped into my IV. He was about to push the Zevalin in when Tech #2 stopped him. Apparently, the doctor has to be in the room when the drug actually goes in.
I was told the doctor had just left the room to get a sweater, but I suspect he actually left to knit a sweater because it was FOREVER before he returned (oh the waiting, waiting, WAITING!).
When the doctor finally returned, he explained that I would be exposed to a minimal amount of gamma radiation, and that the radiation exposure was safe, "walking around Chicago for 1 year you're exposed to more radiation than a chest X-ray." He then asked if I any questions.
No one thought my question about the possibility of Incredible Hulk or Spiderman like super powers as a result of the exposure to gamma rays was funny.
The doctor left, and Robert pushed the Zevalin in. The injection took about 3 minutes. Highly anti-climatic.
I went home and slept (the benadryl really does a number on me.)
No comments:
Post a Comment