Chemo. Round 1, Day 1.

This post is strictly informative. I feel like I didn't know exactly what to expect going in for my first round of chemo and I wanted just the bare bones facts. Plain and simple. I'm going to write those down. But first, my photo project.

My little setup.

 The setup is simple. I bought a photography light and a tripod and a webcam and a backdrop. I just waited until after sundown so that the light would be consistent every day. I also had to turn off all the automatic adjustments in the webcam software. The light may be too bright. I look washed out. But I figure, as long as everything is the same every day, any changes will show up in the time lapse (photography friends, feel free ti chime in here. I don't really know what I'm doing). So, here's photo #1 taken about 5 hours after my first infusion of A/C:

I've got RBF. Can't hide it. I'm actually in a pretty chipper mood.

So here's how the infusion actually went. I showed up to my oncologist's office so he could give me the green light (or not) for getting my first treatment today. He took a look at my little wound and pronounced it good enough. He went over basic details and answered all of my and the boy's questions before I signed yet another release that lists possible death as a side effect (I need to stop reading these forms). He sent me upstairs to the infusion center and I met my nurse (forgot her name) who knew all about me from the two times she had set up all the infusion supplies for me then I disappeared from the schedule when my wound complications were gumming up the works.

After sticking the huge needle into my port then flushing all the lines with saline and heparin (anti-clotting drug) I got a 16 minute infusion of strong, anti-nausea medication. Flushed the line with saline then came the "red death". Doxorubicin (which used to be marketed under the brand name Adriamycin and is the A in A/C therapy). It's a vesicant, which I learned means that if it were to somehow leave my blood vessels and get into any other tissue, it would literally eat away at that tissue. Deadly stuff (hence the name). It's administered by hand over the course of 10 minutes. The nurse got two big syringes and slowly injected it into my port, while drawing back blood frequently to make sure that my blood vessels were still intact. There was a little pause between the pre-meds and this portion because your nurse has to have 10 minutes to sit with you. Nurses never have 10 minutes for anything...

So we survived that then I just got hooked up to a drip of cyclophosphamide (unfortunate brand name: Cytoxan) which is the C half of my A/C therapy. This is administered over about an hour. This drug gave me a headache. I don't usually get headaches, so I can't comment on the magnitude, but I was pretty uncomfortable for most of the infusion. It went away almost immediately after it was finished, though.

Finally, the lines get flushed again. I get a printout of all the drugs I'm on from vitamins to chemo. Then we scheduled an appointment for 24 hours later. I'm on what's called a "dose dense" regimen which means that I'll be getting doses of chemo drugs every two weeks as opposed to every 3 or 4. Generally, after a dose of chemo, your white blood cells bottom out around 10-14 days later. Which is right when I have to go back for my next dose. So the day after chemo, I have to come back for an injection that kinda forces my bone marrow to produce white blood cells to counteract that drop. If I drop too low, I can't stay on my schedule which is not good.

I have a couple of (beginner) pro-tips to add:

• If you're like me and easily chilled, bring your own blanket. The hospital blankets are really cozy right out of the warmer, but they are still paper thin. Next time I'm bringing my airplane blanket and putting the warm ones on top. 
• You gotta bring your own meds. They don't have anything for pain or anxiety or to put you to sleep. Just infusion stuff. I came prepared with my benzos to stay relaxed, but really wish I had a dose of motrin to counteract the headache. Next time, I'll be prepared. 
• I also assumed the hospital didn't have wifi. Which it does. So next time: Hulu/Netflix. You should ask in advance. 

So, there you have it. The ins and outs of your first A/C infusion. I'm no expert, but I have a background in cancer research and am currently learning the ropes of chemo so questions/tips are welcome.

Till next time: here's a shot of the happiest woman in the infusion center

I still haven't mastered the art of the selfie.