Wednesday and the Oncologist

Wednesday was a get things done before the Oncologist and chemo starts, kind of day.  Lots of running around like picking up non-prescription anti-nausea medication and such.

I had decided to squeeze in an acupuncture appointment before the Oncologist.  It turned into an unusual visit, for which I am partially to blame.  Usually acupuncture is very relaxing and beneficial, but this time, for lack of a better term, they overcooked me.   They had most of my body wrapped in blankets, especially the upper half as well as a heat lamp over my legs,  I know the blankets were a nurturing thing, and they thought I was sleeping, but they really should have checked in every 15 - 20 minutes and not left me unattended for an hour or so. 

After about 30 minutes,  I got so hot and sweaty, that my heart rate and pulse started racing to cool my body.  Once that started, I got a little panicky.  I guess I was already in an anxious, high energy state wondering what was to unfold later that day with the oncologist.

I was trying to shrug the covers off with out letting the needles bite me.  The needles were mostly in my legs, arms and stomach.  Surely they should be coming any minute to check on me.

“Hello” I called.  “hellooo”  No answer.  

I could hear the music in the room to my right.  I couldn’t make a lot of noise with out disturbing the patient next door.

  

Oddly, the combination of the two different Chinese songs from my room and other room seemed timed, so that passages played back and forth.  A quiet passage in my room was countered by a louder passage in the other room and visa versa.  I made a mental note of that and tried to see if that would keep me calm, but the songs were in completely different styles, tempo and key.  It was getting a little crazy and making things worse.  

Any minute now, they will be in here, any minute.  Nothing!

“HELLO”  I said a little louder and waited.  Nothing.  *#@#* (insert cuss word of your choice here) I started pulling off all the extra blankets they had me covered with.  I waited a bit longer but was still uncomfortable.

“HELLO”  I couldn’t get much louder with out really yelling and freaking out the person in the next room.  I waited a bit.  *#@#**    *#@*#@ (insert double cuss word of your choice here)

It had been almost an hour and I had enough.  I started pulling out all the needles in my stomach so I could sit up.  I then pulled out the rest that I could feel.  I climbed off the table, fanned myself, got dressed and walked out.  You should have seen the look on their faces when I walked out.  Very surprised.  I told them I had been calling out for them.  

“Oh?  We did not hear you calling.”

I explained what happened and got many apologies and a request for payment. 

 

I had to race to the Oncologist office.  I met Glenda there and we flew through the forms and registration so we could make our appointment time.

As we were consulting with the Oncologist,  Glenda looked over to me and whispered that she liked him.  Good!  

We talked about the chemotherapy agents involved.  It turns out that my cancer is so rare, that this protocol is kind of off the deep end.  (Well of course it is!  Kind of the same old song and dance, right?) 

The protocol, as I understand it, are treatments on days 1 & 2, then days 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9.  Treatment will vary from 30 minutes to 6 hours. We all felt a sense of urgency and wanted to start as soon as possible.  Because of the office hours and weekend coming up, we all thought it would be best  to start Thursday, tomorrow, the very next day, if at all possible.  That way, I could have in office treatments on all but the last two days.  Since the last two days would be Christmas and the day after, I would have to have those in a hospital.  At the end of 28 days, one cycle, I would do it all over again. The oral agent I would do daily, increasing the dosage by 500 mg a week. 

The oral agent could not be found in Austin so we had to get that over nighted.  The other agents were readily available.

I also needed a Port-o-Cath or PICC line to start.  Texas Oncology got a Stat PICC line scheduled at 7 the next morning with Austin Radiology.  They scheduled chemotherapy to start at 8:30,  following the procedure.  Things were chugging right along and Glenda and I were pleased.

The PICC line is like hooking some one up for IV’s except they run a tube up through the arm to the the top of the heart.  They insert the Port-o-Cath under the clavicle, into the subclavian vein where it comes out by the heart.  The P-o-C is the better option, but more involved and takes longer to schedule.   Although expedient, I wasn’t real happy with the PICC line option. It would be temporary and I would have to get a Port-o-Cath anyway.  

We tried getting in touch with the surgeon’s office to see about how soon it would take to get a P-o-C, but it was almost 5 p.m. and we were getting answering machines.  Glenda suggested we bop on over since we were so close.  She got there before I did and walked up to the front desk.  The surgeon was standing right there at the window.  

I don’t know what kind of sweet talking she laid on him but when I got there, he took us back into an office.  Incredible, we couldn’t believe our luck and the graciousness of the doctor.  I mean, how many doctors do you know that would take an unscheduled walk in, right at closing time.  We told him that I needed a P-o-C so I could start chemo ASAP.  He said it is a 30 minute procedure and that we could get that scheduled for tomorrow, Thursday.  Wow, how awesome is that.  He walked up to the front and told his nurse to book me into OR at Seton at 1 p.m. and push everyone back half an hour.  

We said our thanks and goodbyes and quickly called and rescheduled everything from before.  We excitedly ran off to dinner discussing our good fortune.