Chemo begins...

Posted by Wayne:

Another day of firsts for me starts this morning. I get my first chemo treatment. Of course each visit for anything starts with bookwork. You get there early to complete paper work and have vitals taken {blood pressure, temp, pulse & blood work}. I think I will stop here and tell you what led to the discovery of my cancer.

I was tired constantly, had no energy, got out of bed in the morning just as tired as when I went to bed. In walking 60 feet from my front door to the mail box, I would have to stop and catch my breath.
My job at school was 4 hours a day that felt like 20 hours. After every task I had to stop and rest.


One afternoon, I went to the doctor at 1:00 pm. He ordered blood work. At 2:15 pm, his office called and told me to go to the hospital because I needed a blood transfusion The body is supposed to have a blood count of 12 or better, mine was 6.8. They started the transfusion at 8:00 pm, at 4:00 am they had given me 3 units of blood, bringing me up to less than 10.

If anyone is thinking of going to the hospital to get some rest, forget that foolishness. Changing bags, taking vitals, checking monitors and nurses telling you to get some rest means that rest is a rare thing. I was in the hospital from Monday at 4:00pm until Wednesday at 4:00 pm and may have gotten 10 hours sleep in 48 hours.

My real concern was food. My last solid meal was lunch Monday at 11:30 am. My next solid meal was Wednesday at 2:30 pm. After 53 hours, broth and jello look real good. Oh! This was done because of the tests they were going to run, may run, or thought about running.

Within a week of all the tests, they informed me I had colon cancer. Which brings me back to the start of this page and my first chemo treatment.

I am very nervous as I walk into the treatment area. It is a large room with 25 to 30 treatment centers. Each center consists of a recliner and a rolling IV stand. Extra chairs are scattered about for visitors. 4 nurses are working the floor and they seldom slow down.

The room was half full when I got seated. Soon Ms. Nancy came and checked my wrist band. She returned with my first drug, an anti-nausea; it was a 30 minute drip.The room is filling up and the noise level goes up; not loud, just a constant hum of voices and a beeping of machines that need to be changed or altered. The nurses are on the go almost non stop.Books and magazines are provided. They told me if I started a story and my time was up, take the article home with me. Soft drinks , coffee, snacks are in one corner free to anyone who wants them {patients or visitors} In front of the nurses station is a seating area away from the patients. Behind the seating is a low wall. On the wall are large bowls of peppermint candy and assorted suckers.

Ms Nancy returns with my 2nd drip, this one is 90 minutes. If you need a bathroom break you simply unplug your machine and go to one of the two uni-sex restrooms. Cell phones are permitted, but not used as much as you would think. Loved ones leave and go to the fast food shops and bring sandwiches back. Ann's back was bothering her from sitting so much, so at my urging she left and went out for a while. She did not know you were allowed to bring food in. She was gone when lunch started.

Boredom is a problem. As you look around you see people in much worse shape than yourself and you wonder if you are looking at yourself a few months down the road. My next drip was another 90 minute bag. My attention span is that of a gold fish: once around the bowl and I’ve forgotten every thing. Don’t want to read or listen to the mp3 player, and I only want to go home.

Last drip is a 10 minute bag. I guess that would have been dessert. They take all these tubes out of my port and get ready to hook me up with 46 hour pump. My little buddy is 12 inches long, 4 to 5 inches wide and 3 to 4 inches deep. It has long list if instructions full of do’s and don't's. We were there from 8:00 am to 2:30 pm, which was a very long day. They told me to be very careful with cold beverages, as cold could lead to respiritory distress. Life sure has changed.

Stay tuned for the continuing saga.

Fun with a PET scan

Posted by Wayne:

DEFINITION: A PET, positron emission tomography, scan measures important body functions, such as blood flow, oxygen use, and sugar (glucose) metabolism, to help doctors evaluate how well organs and tissues are functioning.

CT imaging uses special x-ray equipment, and in some cases a contrast material, to produce multiple images or pictures of the inside of the body. These images can then be interpreted by a radiologist on a computer monitor as printed images. CT imaging provides excellent anatomic information.

(Information from: http://www.radiologyinfo.org/en/info.cfm?pg=PET)

So, my doctor decided another test was needed. A PET scan. Innocent sounding enough name. I show up at the scan facility 30 minutes early for bookwork. I am taken back to a “quiet room”. No windows, no TV, no MP3 player and no books. I get 8 ounces of dye to drink and a needle in my arm, which is used to put radioactive isotopes in my body. 

Why did they not use the port in your chest, you ask? That would have required a RN. Techs cannot use ports. 

After the meds are flowing, I recline, get covered with a warm blanket, and am supposed to rest for 45 minutes. Wonderful concept…you would think.

Except for the two telephones that ring often {two different ring tones}. You never hear talking just ringing. Outside in the distance, I hear a roaring sound coming closer, easy to identify because I have one: a leaf blower.  Followed closely by another roaring sound: a lawn mower. So much for a quiet room. 

Now for the fun part. The tech takes you into room. A machine {looks like 2 large do-nuts back to back} takes up most of this room. You are placed on a conveyor table, which is not very wide nor is it very comfortable. Both arms are supposed to be over your head for the duration of the test. Did I mention that the test is 45 minutes long? Since I had the port inserted on my left side, I could not keep that arm up. They strapped it down with a huge Velcro blanket. It was at this point that I felt my first twinge of uneasiness... 

You slide slowly into the machine. My elbow hits the top and the side…more uneasiness. It seems my eyebrows are touching the top of the machine. The machine is closing in on my face. My breathing is very shallow. Less than 7 minutes into the test I am soaked in sweat, on the verge of panic. It takes 2 tries the get the technician’s attention. My voice is a croak. Finally, she stops the test. I calmly explained, in a relative manner, that I was coming out of the machine one way or the other, and the hospital could pay for the damages if I wasn’t allowed to exit the machine quickly.  

       When I talked to the doctor later in the day I asked to be sedated if we needed to repeat the test. No sedation for this test, I was told. However he did offer to give me an anti – anxiety drug. I told him they have not made enough of that drug for it to do me any good. We start chemo later in the week.

Peas and Carrots

Posted by: Teri...

Almost five years ago, I gave birth to the love of my dad's life. Grace Ann is his sunshine, and she can get a smile out of him these days when no one else can. Dad thinks she can do no wrong, and she thinks Papaw is her personal entertainer, so they get along like "peas and carrots", to quote Forrest Gump. I am so thankful that they're close, and I hope she will always remember her early years with fondness.

Here are a few pictures of Papaw and his girl through the years:

Thank you, Lord, for blessing my daughter's life with such a wonderful grandfather.

And now, a few words from our sponsor...

Posted by Wayne:

To start let me tell you what this blog is not.  It's not about me saying "why me?", "poor me", or "life's not fair".

 

As I have told every Sunday School class I've taught, all the good in our lives is from God, all the bad is from poor choices on someone's part.  In my case, if I had done what men my age should have done they would have caught my cancer in time.  So this is on me, not God. So, in the future, if a little bleakness creeps in, forgive me. I will try to keep it to a minimum.

 

Moving on to today's educational segment:  How do you start chemo?  In my case it started with outpatient surgery.  Nothing to eat or drink after midnight.  Check into the hospital at 6:30.  Put on a gown (darling little thing).  During surgery they inserted a port in my chest just below my left collar bone.  Looks like a ping pong ball.  Through this port they now draw blood and inject fluids.  No more needles in the arm.  With the port in place and soreness gone, you are not limited in what you can do or in your mobility.

 

I showed the port to my granddaughter, Grace.  She wasn't impressed and did not have much to say about it.  However, I go to her elementary school every Friday and read to her pre-k class and she wanted me to show the port to the class. I declined.

 

Next posting:  My first chemo treatment

Here We Go...

Posted by: Teri...

About three or four weeks (Is that all?!), we found out that my dad, Wayne, has cancer. Here's the background on this...

Dad wasn't feeling too well the last few months. He was really tired and had zero energy.

One Monday, he was feeling particularly bad, so he visited his regular doctor. That doctor examined Dad, drew blood and sent Dad home. An hour or so later, the doctor called Dad and told him to go to the hospital immediately because his blood count is very low. We found out his blood is supposed to be between a 12 and a 14, and Dad's was at a 6! No wonder he was feeling terrible!

So, WHY is the blood count so low?

Well, two days and three blood transfusions later, Dad has a colonoscopy done. During this time, the doctors find a tumor. Uh Oh...

Long story short, after another few days, the final verdict is a 10 cm cancerous tumor in his colon, cancerous cells throughout his liver, and chemotherapy will be starting immediately. He was given approximately 27 months to live, WITH the chemo. No chance of surgery or recovery...or so the doctors say.

We serve an awesome God, and if my Dad has taught me anything during our 30 years together, it's that God is good, all the time. If it is God's will for my Dad to heal, then it will happen (I am REALLY praying for that one, just in case anyone wants to join me there). If not, we will make the most of our time together, and we will use this blog to keep everyone informed during the process. The blog was Dad's idea, as was the song choice...sorry about that, but what could I do? At least his sense of humor is strong!

Thanks for taking the time to check on us! Stay tuned for more!