As the slow drip of the two chemotherapy agents entered the clear plastic tubes and meandered their way towards my Hickman Catheter, I patiently watched and always kept on the lookout for air bubbles. Someone told me many moons ago that if air was in the iv line it could reach your brain and cause a stroke. I would have been dead already. There were lots of bubbles all the time. It helped pass the time though. Every four hours the vampire nurses would visit me to take my blood. Within the hour new numbers would be written on my scoreboard. They were dropping quick. The heavy concentration of chemo drugs surging into my veins were hammering my body and my marrow. It was the first day and it was awful. My body just ached. The nausea just got worse and worse and I lost it a few times. Ugly.
Lori got down to the hospital around 3;30. She would go in the office early so she could leave by that time and beat traffic. She would stay a couple hours and visit. Today and for the remainder of my stay, she and any visitors would have to wear a gown, hat, mask, booties and gloves for infection control. I was completely helpless against germs and infection at this point and worse as time wore on. As it got later, the pain was getting more intense as was the nausea and fatigue. These drugs were hell. Lor wouldn’t stay long and needed to get home for Nick. I needed to rest. The first evening of chemo was just awful. Dr. Dave told me that I would receive consistent doses for the week, way heavier than most patients receiving normal doses. This was intense therapy. I was trying to manage the combination as best that I could when an Angel walked in.”Jeff, I’m here to give you pain meds” Thank You!, I said many times over. Within a few minutes the Morphine was knocking me out and putting me in a state of calmness…disconnected from reality. It was so needed. The nurses came in a little while later to see how I was doing. “Where am I again”, they said I asked.
This day was like groundhog day. Repeated over and over again for six more days. The same regimen, the same drugs, the same state of mind. The pain meds took the edge off but I entered into a slight state of delirium. My scoreboard recorded the story of my life. All downhill. Every day my WBC, my RBC, my HGB, my MCW, my PLT counts dropping like rocks They weren’t kidding. I was a very sick man. By the end of the week my counts would be all zero and I’d be hanging off of a dangerous precipice. Life or Death. I honestly can’t tell you much about that week. I was pretty much out of it and in a lot of pain. A week that I want to forget. I lost all of the rest of my hair too. My eyebrows, my chest hair, leg hair…etc. My bed was such a mess.
I can say now that I fielded a few phone calls each day. I spoke to Nicky, spoke to work, spoke to my parents and Lori…and I spoke to…..
Next Up…”Dave Linsalata”