Infusion 10: Slight Scheduling Snafu

Amazingly, like clockwork, I awaken at 4:24 am with a hot flash that stirs me from a dead sleep and enhances my awareness of my full bladder.  As I groggily head to the bathroom, I fan myself by pinching my sweat-drenched shirt and pulling it away from my glistening skin.  This is my morning routine, I think to myself, while washing my hands and grabbing a drink of faucet-cold water.  Since it’s still dark out, I will myself to return to sleep.  But, willing yourself doesn’t always work.  And as the birds start their singing routine outside my window and the clock turns 6 am, I decide that it’s time to arise. 

This week, my infusion was scheduled later than usual, so it gave me time to wander out for a run/walk.  Given the events at Bothell High School (an assault on the woodshop teacher), I was anxious to hear if there were any new leads on a suspect.  So, I ventured down the road, avoiding the news crews’ cameras obstructing the sidewalk, but seeing no change in the ongoing investigative work.  Turning the corner to head home, I ran into a disheveled man walking a bike, with a crazed look in his eyes, looking somewhat out of place.  I wondered if this may have been the perpetrator, but sensed that it was just my imagination hoping to put closure on a terrifying event, certainly the campus cameras would help find the criminal.

After returning home, I showered, applied the numbing cream to my port and grabbed a bite to eat.  I gathered my loaded bag with kindle, magazines, coloring book and card games to bring to the infusion center.  It was nearly 10 am and we were loading up the car when I received a call from the infusion center.  “Theresa, are you coming in today?” It was Kim, my infusion nurse.  I replied, “Yes, we are just on our way.”  “Well, we had you on the schedule at 9:30 this morning.”  I explained how both my husband and I had 10:30 on our google calendars, but we would get there as soon as possible.  Unfortunately, this hasn’t been the first scheduling fiasco we’ve encountered, but certainly impacted both the infusion center and my oncologist’s schedule. 

When we arrived at the hospital, Chris dropped me off at the entrance so I could get there as quickly as possible.  An elderly woman beat me to the front desk, so I impatiently waited as the receptionist slowly checked her in and answered all her questions.  Although I arrived 15 minutes before my “scheduled time”, she didn’t start checking me in until 10:35.  At that point, Chris and my oncologist both arrived to see what bay I’d be in, but finding me still in the waiting room. 

Nonetheless, my oncologist was gracious and said she’d return later and Kim drew my blood quickly when I arrived, so that I could get the ball-a-rolling.  My labs took about an hour to return, but showed an ANC of 300 (100 higher than 2 weeks prior), so I was ready to rock-n-roll.  Shortly after starting my pre-medications, a high school friend, Alex, arrived with delicious, lemon macaroons in tote.  We caught up on about 20 years of history, until the Benadryl kicked in and I started to fade.  She continued to entertain my husband while I verified my identification for the chemo medication administration.  After Alex left, I quickly fell asleep.  This is the first time I have actually slept through my infusion, but the cumulative fatigue, early awakening and Benadryl finally caught up to me (and evidently Chris as well!) 

We left the infusion center about 4 pm and arriving home, I curled up on my recliner and fell asleep again.  This would continue until about 11 pm, when I finally headed to bed.  It was refreshing to feel sleepy despite the steroids, but it was definitely a drugged sleep.  I think it had been 20 years since the last time I had taken Benadryl, as I don’t remember a meager 25 mg affecting me so significantly.  Nonetheless, when the clock struck 4:24 am, my internal furnace turned on for me to arise again. 

This time, I felt wide awake and rather than awaken Chris, I gathered my phone, browsed Facebook, the internet and as my stomach started aching and growling, I ventured downstairs for a bite to eat. 

The rain poured outside as I placed a K-cup in the Keurig.  Chris stirred on the couch and was about to get up and wash dishes when I elected to do them instead.  The steroids were starting to kick in and the endless energy/restlessness began.   Fortunately, I knew I’d still have about 24 hours before the nausea medications wear off, so I tried to utilize my energy as best as I could and ventured to Starbucks to get coffee for a friend and support the school kids’ garage sale for Relay for Life.  All in all, a fairly uneventful first 24 hours after infusion, without reactions or pain, but just a disjointed sleep schedule.  I know I can do this 2 more times.  Only one month remains till the end of this segment of my journey.  

It's a series of small steps performed regularly and consistently towards a goal, that ultimately brings you across the finish line. 

The finish line is just the beginning of a whole new race.