We turned it up alright, AKA Blue Monday
When you are in the hospital they always ask you how bad your pain is on a scale of 1 – 10. Apparently there is an 11 on that scale and I found it.
I was a little apprehensive going to the appointment in the first place. I was given topical Lidocaine to numb my skin prior to going in for my second chemo appointment. The instructions said “apply” saying nothing more. Does that mean liberally, sparingly, so we just guessed. After about 15 min I thought maybe we should apply a second coat so we did and headed out the door for Regions. In hind sight, apply like cake frosting is how the instructions should have read.
The port site was still swollen and very bruised from just being put in Friday. It hurt to look at it and I couldn’t imagine anyone “pinching” the port to hold it steady and stab my chest with a needle. Which is exactly what I was in for.
We arrived at the clinic and a nurse called me back to an infusion room and I settled in while Bill stayed in the waiting room. The nurse assessed the site and thought it looked pretty swollen. She touched the area around port to see where the access was, and I let out a whimper. She explained she was going to have to draw blood and check my labs prior to starting the chemo. She held the port steady and jabbed the needle through my recently operated on chest into the port. It hurt the dickens and I let out a string of my classis g-rated expletives. Such gems like “sweet petunias & consarndits”, Yosemite Sam would have been proud. Having no luck drawing blood she drove the needle in further and I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. She apologized and said that he would have to try again as she withdrew the needle.
The burning had begun.
In removing the needle there was no relief, my chest still hurt and burned where the nurse was just working on my port site. I braced myself for one more attempt. When she thrust the needle into my chest, I just may have lost my composure. In the heat of the moment I wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over the Mighty Mississippi, to paraphrase a favorite line from “A Christmas Story”. This drove a flock of nurses into the room. Attempt number two was unsuccessful and we had found 11 on the pain scale.
One of the nurses went out into the waiting room to get Bill, hoping his presence would calm me down. They called for my oncologist to assess the situation as well. My chest felt like someone had just jabbed a hot poker into it and it was burning from the inside out, searing is the word that comes to mind. As much as I kept telling myself it would be ok, all I knew is that nobody was going to be coming at me with a needle again today.
When Bill entered the room he immediately saw the pain and panic in my eyes. Always one for an entrance, he bent over to kiss my forehead and the bags he had on his shoulder swung around. This caused him to pull back and lose control of his just poured coffee which erupted from the cup like Krakatoa. Fortunately for Bill everything in the room, except me was covered in coffee. It was nice of him to inject a little levity into the moment. The look of concern on Bill’s face was hard to bear. As much as it helped to have him there to calm me down I did not want him to see me in so much pain. When my doctor came into the room and assessed the situation it was decided that we would have to reset and come back tomorrow.
I have to admit I was a little anxious about a repeat of Monday’s poop show. (In my head I didn’t say poop). With a different approach and better preparation chemo round two got under Tuesday morning.
I spent about 8 hours in the hospital getting the first three infusions and then was sent home with a portable pump, which resembled a 1980’s purse phone meets fanny pack. Ring ring. Hello…. it’s for you! I got wander around with my chemo-fanny-phone for the next 48 hours. Every few minutes it would grind out a dose that sounded like a mix between a cat hiss and wheeze. Yesterday a home health nurse came and liberated me from my chemo-fanny-phone and while I feel like crap it is good to be done with round two.
In honor of Monday’s fiasco and nod to my 80’s styled chemo-fanny-phone, I give you Blue Monday by New Order (one of my fav’s)
Comments (15)
Doctor speak: 'This might be a little uncomfortable.' Translation: 'You are about to experience the most excruciating pain you have ever felt.'
Shannon YOU ARE TRULY AMAZING!!! You are an excellent writer... Have you considered writing a book!!!! You are and will continue to be in my Thoughts and Prayers!!
Oh Shannon, your post brought me to tears. I am so sorry that you have to endure this. When you are in remission your story and your strength will be an inspiration to others who make this incredibly difficult journey. Love and prayers, Irene
You might find this entertaining and helpful. http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-do-we-swear/ Love to you both!
Shannon! Hang in there, you are a strong lady! Is there an address that I can send a card to? -Emily
My favorite new reading material! In the midst of all the "poop" you're enduring, you have a fabulous way of narrating your journey with great flair! Love you much!! ♡♡
Oh, my, Shannon, I'm so sorry about your Blue Monday. But I'm very glad you've shared it..and with music, too. There's a lot of bravery going on here....Bill who faces this with you, the nurses who have the courage to care for people in such pain, and especially you....going back to the clinic again on Tuesday morning! My dad used to like to say that "growing old is not for sissies".....and I think I have to say that " Fighting cancer is not for sissies". I'm going to post a blessing for you that I like, on the "Posts" page. Love, Linda
Wow. Shannon, for someone who claims to be not much of a writer, you are wonderfully skilled at bringing the reader into your story. I winced in pain, then gasped out loud when I read how Bill's shoulder bag slipped. What a week you've had! Thank you for taking the time to keep us updated. Stay strong and brave, and on days when you're not feeling that way, know that your friends will pick of the slack. Much love, Julia
"Ring Ring... Hello, it's for you!" Had me guffawing just seconds after you had me crying. Well played, Short Butler. Q
when you told me the story of bill when dropped all the coffee I thought that the whole hospital room was filled , I laughed. *The following has been dictated to mom by Sabine (whose little fingers can't keep up with all of her thoughts-)* On Thursday there was a Leprechaun that came to my house when I was at school. He went into my room and he found a little thing that I set out for him. He also put shamrock stickers all over the house and put a chocolate treat on my pillow and on Ronans pillow and he put gold coins some places around the house. I saw the picture of you when you were on your (what you call that thingy mom?) *patio* I wish I could be there with you but I had to be at school- I WISH I DIDN'T HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL, I WISH THEY HAD DIFFERENT RULES BECAUSE THEY MADE ME GO TO SCHOOL ON A HOLIDAY!! I hope you feel better soon. that video was pretty cool- I liked the dogs. Sabine
Fart. (theres my PG rated curse word- although using it may result in getting kicked out of the babysitting co-op..i digress..) Fart. I'm sorry- all that pain sounds pretty poopy. But, Im glad Bill was there to lighten the moment with his coffee confetti- always good for a chuckle at his expense (i.e."Bill fall down the stairs at the cabin" and well, Spooning ) ;) Let us know when we can visit again- little Bean was pretty dang enchanted with your new digs- and always enjoys seeing her Untie Shannon. (and uncle bill as long as he doesn't win at everything.) Megs
I'm so sorry Monday treatment was so painful.... and yeahhhh for finishing chemo round two! Soft and gentle hugs your way.
I hate that this sucks so bad. I wish I could share your physical pain and alleviate at least some of it. Marla💗
Shannon, I agree with what others have said. You are a gifted writer. Thank you for sharing. Love, hugs and prayers for you and Bill. 💗
I'm sorry that your port didn't work out well and that you are experiencing pain like this. That just sucks, dangnabbit. Thanks for the Blue Monday video. I also love that song but had never seen the video for it. That is an odd collection of random imagery which somehow works with the music really well. Sending along warm wishes that your next experience is much easier and painless too.