A day in the life: infusion day

This post got really long; if you just want a quick update and prayer requests scroll to the bottom. 

 I thought I’d give you all a run down on what infusion days look like in case you are wondering. I start off by taking oral steroids the day before infusions. The purpose of the steroid is to lessen some of the side effects of chemo and give me some more energy. I continue to take those the day of and day after infusions. 

I try to think of infusion days as a chemo spa day. I get to sit in a heated, massage recliner knitting and listening to or watching whatever I want. As a mom of two kids trying to do virtual kindergarten and first grade this break is kind of amazing! Due to covid, I’m not allowed to have any visitors with me, so I’ve been driving myself there and back, which hasn’t been a problem so far. I always grab a coffee and a treat for myself at Starbucks on the way in to make it even more of a fun day for myself. I also like trying to make myself look as cute and comfy as possible, fun earrings and makeup usually do the trick. I’m not going much of anywhere these days so it feels nice to make myself look presentable. Plus, it makes me feel a little less like a sickly cancer patient if I look cute. 

When I get to the doctors office the first thing they do is place a needle in my port and take some bloodwork. They check to make sure my white blood cell count, platelets and hemoglobin levels are good before they’ll administer my chemo. The blood work also helps them check in on my liver, heart and tumor markers to make sure the chemo isn’t causing damage to vital organs and see how well it’s attacking the cancer. 

Next, I always have a consult with my oncologist or one of her physician’s assistants. I’m so thankful to have these regular appointments. I always feel better after talking to my oncologist. Cancer feels like a whole new world of unknowns and questions that pop up. I try to write down all my questions in a cancer notebook that I bring to all appointments. They are so good about patiently answering these questions for me. 

After that, I’m sent off the the infusion room. I’ve heard some places have private rooms or curtains to make it feel more private. My infusions room is just one big open room with three aisles of recliners, six recliners to each aisle. There’s a nurses’ station with a handful of nurses who man the infusion pumps, and a little kitchenette (fridge, microwave, water and ice machine) to keep us fed and hydrated during infusions. I get five different IV bags of drugs for each infusion. The first bag is for premeds. These are more steroids and anti-nausea drugs to help with tolerating the actual chemo. The next four bags are comprised two systemic chemo therapies (docetaxel and carboplatin) and two bags of targeted chemo therapies (herceptin and pertuzamab). In total, I’m sitting in my comfy chair for around 3+ hours. I can get up and walk around with my IV pole if I need to stretch my legs, get a snack, or use the potty. While they’re delivering the docetaxel, I’m icing my hands and feet to try to restrict blood flow there. I’m hopeful that this will keep me from getting neuropathy. 

The last, and kind of coolest step, before I go home is to get my neulasta pump on the back of my arm. It’s the simple things in life, right? The purpose of the neulasta is to induce my body to make more white blood cells, but the drug needs to be delivered 27 hours after my infusion is complete. That’s why the pump is used. The pump is packaged with a little syringe that the nurse injects into the pump before she sticks it to the fatty part of my arm. This is when the real fun starts. The pump beeps and then starts clicking before it pokes me. The anticipation and clicking reminds me so much of a roller coaster clicking up the hill before an exhilarating descent. The little needle quickly withdraws and leaves a catheter tube in its place. Twenty-seven hours later the pump beeps and starts clicking again as it delivers the medicine over 45 minutes. When it’s all done I can take it off and toss it. 

Updates!! All in all, this round of chemo was good, no bad reactions and minimal side effects so far. I’m going to keep with my same plan as the last round to take it easy and rest. The talk with my oncologist went well. She was 100% in agreement with my Mayo doctors that we should continue treatment with curative intent. Isn’t curative the best word ever! The plan right now is to keep on the same chemo schedule, and I will have a PET scan after my fourth round to see how the cancer is responding. It’s possible that I could have a complete response at that time, but I would still get the last two rounds of chemo for a total of six rounds. Please pray that my chemo is effective at killing off this dumb cancer, so I can have a clean scan in January. The other hurtle to get past is surgery. Many doctors do not want to operate on stage IV patients. My oncologist has talked with my surgeon at Abbott and she does not want to operate on me. That’s a bridge we’ll have to cross when we get there, and I’m a little on the fence about the benefit I’ll get with surgery versus all the risk and complications. I have an appointment scheduled with a Mayo surgeon on February 1st which is perfect timing. I’ll be done with four rounds of chemo and hopefully have PET scan results before this consult. Typically, I want to rush fifteen steps ahead and feel like I have everything figured out for the next twenty years. Cancer has been a good reminder to live in the present and only doing the work for today today. I know this is a good lesson for me to learn and I’m reminded of Matthew 6:34 often, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Today’s job is to just get through this round of chemo and virtual school with the kids. 

Pray for this round of chemo to be effective in shrinking and killing the cancer while not doing too much damage to my body. Neuropathy has been a worry on my mind. My fingers and toes were slightly tingly after this infusion. This is a big concern because the numbness can turn painful with subsequent rounds of chemo and this is one of the long term side effects of chemo. 

Pray for clarity and peace about surgery decisions. I’d love to have complete knowledge of the future and what the right decision is to make here. It is complicated that the doctors and surgeons don’t agree. Pray that I would have patience and peace as I wait for chemo results and gather more information about surgery options. 

Pray for our family mood in general. That we won’t get bogged down by the struggles of virtual school, gloom of cabin fever, and the isolation that covid brings.