September 04, 2014

Abraxane again

Yesterday I had my first dose of Abraxane in this third round of that chemo. Today I feel fine, maybe had the tiniest queasy tummy last night so took some Zofran just in case.

However, my day at Swedish was too long. I arrived at 130 on time, at 230 a nurse came out with the consent form which I was supposed to sign with Dr G but of course we didn't do this since I've had Abraxane twice before.

Got called back to a chair at 245. Then my port wouldn't give any blood return no matter which way I positioned myself or coughed. At 3:45 I sent Rik home to relax after his first day at school, feed and walk the dogs, etc. I received a dose of alteplase, a drug which can unclog a stuffed up port. An hour later, thankfully good blood return! In the meantime I ate a soggy egg salad sandwich from the bagged lunches and enjoyed a cherry turnover Rik brought up for me.

By 4:45 pm I was so tired of waiting that I asked the nurses to call Dr G's office and get permission to skip the Avastin, which would have added another hour to the total infusion time. Nurse Jacque called out to him in the hallway, and he said "Okay, but she can go home!" Creative thinking nurse Mary Beth called the pharmacy since the Avastin was already mixed (i.e., ready to give to a patient) and they assured her that they could use it the next day.

I was done with the pre-meds (like I needed steroids at this point, I was so wired), Abraxane and Faslodex. I talked with my mom for a half-hour, read some more, and tried to relax. Rik met me at 6:45, we went home, and by 10:00 I was ready to eat some leftover chicken. I was in bed at 11 with all my drugs to relax me and felt fine today.

I take responsibility for my port causing a longer visit but for a two hour infusion to take five hours seems excessive to me. After my four appointments at Swedish's First Hill Cancer Institute, assuming the Abraxane works well for me, I will schedule all my ongoing infusions at the Ballard campus, which has a much better nurse:patient ratio.

1 comment:

  1. Those were the days that made me realize I was sick: the days that I had no choice in the matter. The days that were given over to waiting, and patience, and shuffling through 'the machine' of medical care. Most days were not like that, but the ones that were really brought that knowledge home to me.