I’m so bored. Seriously, seriously bored. I got here around 8 am this morning, where I waited in a room which looks like this: Yes yes, this is all very exciting. Look at all those people! Christ almighty am I the young one in that room. I was sitting in one of those purply chairs with the brown and the stuff. I’m kind of chemotarded right now, so forgive me. I was admitted (quickly, mind you, I had an appointment), and really only had time to take this picture before the whisked me into the back. They weighed me (clothes and all): 175. Yes, I’m a fatty McFat face. *shrugs*. BP fine (105/62), temp fine (97.2 – I run cold), white cell count fine, red cell count fine, platelet cells fine. That took, including getting my IV securely fastened to my forearm, until 8:45-9:00.
The chemo room looks a bit like this. I had to steal this picture because I couldn’t get a proper one taken before I had to leave the room, so you’ll just have to imagine. It’s quite comfortable, though. We have plushy chairs, with blankets and pillows. We have individual IV stands by each chair, there’s a tv you can watch, a book cart that has puzzles (sodoku ftw!) and books, wi-fi, and they’ll get you food if you’re hungry. Woohoo, no food for me.
So yeah, I haven’t actually had chemo in the chemo room for quite sometime. It’s not that I don’t want to be social – I just get fewer side-effects if I’m sleeping flat on my back, like if I’m in a bed. So I sleep in a bed instead. Today, I forgot my lappy (my bad, I’m using a borrowed one from the hospital).
Here’s my room: Yes yes, very exciting. I have shit everywhere (does that surprise you at all?). Random bottles of juice and grape drink (YES!), with the lappy and my travel mouse. I make messes in such short amounts of time, it’s astounding.
So, I got an LP today. NOT AWESOME. Here is a picture of the needles they use:
Yeah, so that isn’t my picture, but that’s the same effing needle (I checked the package). Ouch. It’s all sorts of NOT AWESOME. You curl up in a tiny, fetal position, with your knees practically in your mouth (it’s hard for me, since I have large ta’s). The nurse/doctor comes in (usually it’s Dr. Kenyon, but can be Nurse Nancy or whathaveyou), asks how you are, and makes idle chitchat. I usually say, “I’m fine, bla bla bla.” They say, “Are you ready?” I say, “Hell no,” (but it’s more of a mumble anyways). This is while they coat your back with iodine or some other cold substance. Then, Dr. Kenyon says, “Ok, breathe, and one, two, three-” and JAB. Then it’s HOLY FUCK DOES THAT HURT. It doesn’t really hurt at first, but the further in he goes, he hits nerves and bits of bone sometimes. There isn’t really a popping sound, but it feels like it when he gets to the spine. You can’t move at all, or you could be paralyzed. Fluid drips out of the needle when he takes out the top part, and he holds a vial underneath it. My spinal fluid drips drips drips into the vial, and he makes more idle chit-chat, trying to make me more comfortable. It usually just ends up as, “We’re almost done, Kristin. You’re doing great.” Before I know it, he has enough to do whatever tests he does, then he injects the drugs into that same needle. Now, it feels like the reverse.
There is a delicate balance in your spine. The delicate balance doesn’t like a vacuum, and doesn’t like being forced to have more of something in it’s space. It protests. So, for the next minute, he injects whatever it is he’s injecting, and I’m thinking, “Ohgodohgodohgod when is it over ohgodohgod.” Then I try to distract myself with physics equations, or I hum a tune, or think of my friends’ faces. It’s the longest minute of my day, but it’s over, and he pulls the needle out slowly. They wipe my back off, and put a small bandage on the area.
I rarely swell up or bruise, which is strange for someone with lymphoma. But, I’m thankful, because I have beautiful skin I’d like to keep nice. Know what time it was after that? 9:20. I can’t believe it either. I had to lay still until 10 am, and then I was allowed a pillow and water/juice. I’ve just been hooked up ever since, and I think I might nap some more. It’s about 11 am right now. Might text Sean and see how his project is coming along. He works so hard 🙂
I’m okay for now. Nothing too bad today. They aren’t doing a bone marrow aspiration, thank the lord. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that. I’ve had anti-emetics, antihistamines, steroids, cytoxan (mmm), Adriamycin (the red stuff which turns my sweat and pee red!), and grape drink (ftw!). They also gave me a jab for cell growth, since that’s what kicked the crap out of my mono. Yeah, you see that? It’s far enough gone that I was allowed to actually have chemo today. Woohoo! Too bad that stuff makes it VERY hard to walk/do anything else.
I can’t wait to go home this afternoon and SLEEP. I thought I was going to work, and I might try to still. Depends on how I feel. Everyone so far has said, “JUST GO HOME, KRISTIN.” I think I might call Sean and ask him to pick me up too.
Ok bye 🙂