Wearing a chemo pump around is not as easy as you think. There is always a cord hanging around. And one end of the cord is IN A HOLE IN MY CHEST. Sorry for cap font, but that's what it is like when I think it. It's hard to change clothes. It's hard to go to the bathroom. It's even harder to sleep. Between the chemo cord going off to my right from the bed and the CPAP cord going off to the left from my bed, it crazy. It's two days of thinking "am I going to get up to go to the bathroom and forget to drag the pump pack, jerking the needle out of my chest". I also came home with a chemo spill kit.
The pump thing has really hit me hard. I'm also still recovering from the port insertion at the same time. The big vein on my neck hurts. It had to be clamped or something for port insertion. So it has a healing cut. Then there's the cut above my port spot that is still healing.
As soon as the pump came out there was a sensation of something. I don't know what it was - being disconnected or something. On the way home I could hardly stay awake. I was light-headed and overly exhausted. I didn't sleep well last night either and still feel exhausted. I am going to try to walk some out in the yard today. I'll use a stick or walker to help me keep balance and see what happens. I can tell you now, I won't go far.
My mother left for Houston today. She has been my helper during the day and staying with my sister. My dad and sister have also been coming around. My dad is back and forth all day between here and there. He is too deteriorated to really help me. But somebody nearby is comforting. So today is my first day totally alone. I have to admit I'm a bit nervous about it, considering the sudden, unexpected changes after the pump was removed. I do remember a man on Monday looking over at me and asking "does it just drain you completely after your chemo". I didn't know at the time, but "yes it does mister".
My mother will return in a couple of weeks. My sister will be around to check on me this evening. My dad will call periodically to check on me. I have emergency numbers if I have questions. I will be fine.
I have found that the homemade chicken soup my mother made is one thing I can eat well and has a good taste. So I had some for breakfast. The books say to eat what you can, so I'll eat chicken soup for a few more days. There is plenty in the refrigerator that I can heat up by the bowl in the microwave. Thank God for mothers! My sister has taken to the new cookbook that was sent to me by one of the drug manufacturers. She also provides meals for me that work with my treatment. Thank God for sisters! My dad cannot do much at all for me, but he does keep a check on me and keeps a roof over my head. He's the kind of person who has always helped others when in need and expects nothing in return. Thank God for dads! What do people do who have no one. I am so fortunate to be born in a family that rallies around and helps.
I'm now on 8 medications at home. Have to pay full price. I still owe $800 on the PET scan. I owe $4,000 on the liver biopsy. I owe who knows how much on the chemo. And the $4,000 to the anesthesiology. I can't remember the rest. I think I'm up to about $10,000 or $15,000 in debt right now, and I've only completed one round of chemo. It's going to be a long haul.
I just warmed up some squash soup my sister made last night. It was so good. I have an avocado with sour cream warming up on the counter to eat when I can get the gumption. I've never had trouble drinking plenty of water, but it is a struggle now. I keep on sipping and try to get at least the minimum amount. I've been so exhausted all day.
Thinking back to last summer and this beautiful plate of homegrown tomatoes. No more of those for a while. This is the second year I have been barred from eating tomatoes, both times due to cancer. They are one of my most favorite foods. Look at that plate.
|I cannot eat these!|