Cancer Journey Part 4
One day, a piece of good news descended upon me. I was told that I could return to ward 8A prematurely. Other than being over the moon, my first thought was sneering at that doctor who was so cocksure that I must stay in ward 62 till 25 Oct. The next afternoon, I was indeed escorted back to that safer and cozier haven. I was glad, but was anxiously waiting to hear about the chemo plan. Yvonne brought me a book written by Mitch Albom - The First Phone Call From Heaven. I seldom read, but I wouldn't mind a Mitch Albom book. I've read 3 of his works and liked them. I thought to myself, "What a day to celebrate".
Things took a twist the very next day. The dietician came and see me to talk about my appetite and diet. She said she would request the kitchen to prepare me a fried egg everyday, either for lunch or for dinner. I had the option of drinking this milk-based nutritional supplement should I not derive enough nutrients from my meals, mostly because I wouldn't finish them. (I was getting sick of the repetitive and distasteful hospital food although I initially found it alright.) However, the milky taste was too strong and she introduced a peach flavoured beverage as an alternative supplement. I somehow found out from her that I had to move back to ward 62 because some infection control team went against the decision to let me return early. I thought she was pulling my leg but she was in all seriousness. I lay on my bed looking up at the ceiling, thinking about my short-lived happiness. Not long, nurses came in to affirm that. But eventually, there was good news: instead of going back to that sickening place, I would go to ward 5A instead, just 3 floors below 8A. Ward 5A is actually a pretty nice ward, although some designs could be tweaked to make the stay a more pleasant one. But I could have been elsewhere worse, so I should be contented with what I had.
On day 15 of the induction phase also my fourth day in ward 5A, another bone marrow aspiration was performed on me. Results were out and they decided that I need not continue with chemo. That was a relief, but the hair dropping side effect of the chemo drugs I had taken earlier on, began. Luckily, I had shaven my head prior to chemo. Short, prickly bits of hair penetrated the pillow cover and it didn't take long before I was alarmed at how much hair the pillow cover had trapped. I was having constipation plus diarrhea. Now I wonder if that was a side effect but either my stool couldn't exit, or if it did, it came out watery and in very small amounts. I also felt pile(s) inside me. It (they) trigger the feeling of wanting to take a dump, and each bowel clearance didn't feel "clean" or "complete".
One night, I needed platelets transfusion again. For the first time, I felt a burning sensation running from my ears down to my neck. I highlighted that to the nurse, who reduced the rate of transfusion under the doctor's instruction. Thereafter, it felt alright, but soon, I experienced a chills episode for the second time. It lasted 20 minutes before my fever spiked to 39.5 degree Celsius and I vomited. One antibiotic that I was taking via drip had been changed to a less potent one in tablet form. Because of that fever, I had to be on drip again on a more potent antibiotic. Also, as with every fever spike, blood had to be taken via the PICC line and also from another vein in my other arm. That meant having to get poked by a needle. The PICC line has two ports and both were blocked once when I was in ward 62. They were blocked again one day in ward 5A. Trained personnel would try to inject heparin, an anticoagulant, to try to unblock them. If it fails, a doctor would use a thrombolytic agent called urokinase. But if medication had to be given before they were unblocked, the nurses would have no choice but to set up a standard IV plug. You might have guessed it: more poking. Other minute problems like sore throat, pale in comparison. However, the point I want to highlight is that I did not experience a single major problem called cancer, but also other smaller ones that accompanied it.
Actually, it is easy to name nurses that I especially liked. You might never know them, but they are Diana, Elma, Haidee, and Muan from ward 5A. There were none from ward 62 obviously, and all the nurses in 8A and 8C were pretty good. Although a friend of mine who worked in 5A said that I commented a lot, I feel that my comments were pretty constructive, and I do appreciate most nurses for the commitment and their taking care of me. Well, for a nurse who committed 3 mistakes in a single night, would you actually expect me to not comment at all/think that I comment for nothing?
A third bone marrow aspiration was scheduled on day 28, but it was brought forward to day 22. The next day, I was abruptly told that I could be discharged because the preliminary results of the bone marrow test suggested that I was good enough to go, plus my cell counts were rising, albeit slowly. I was also told that the next phase, the consolidation phase, was slated to start the second Friday from that day. I was informed that for that phase, I needed to return for a 5-day chemo for every 21 days, with a minimum of 3 cycles. However, just before I was discharged, I was told that a blood test would be taken that fateful Friday to determine if I needed further chemo. No word of a bone marrow transplant was mentioned as well. I was suddenly so confused and taken aback. Now I am back home, and soon realised that the pros and cons of staying at home and at the hospital are stark.
Well, at the very least, the doctors seem to have a positive outlook about my condition (hope I didn't read them wrongly), and here I am, still on the the road to recovery.
Things took a twist the very next day. The dietician came and see me to talk about my appetite and diet. She said she would request the kitchen to prepare me a fried egg everyday, either for lunch or for dinner. I had the option of drinking this milk-based nutritional supplement should I not derive enough nutrients from my meals, mostly because I wouldn't finish them. (I was getting sick of the repetitive and distasteful hospital food although I initially found it alright.) However, the milky taste was too strong and she introduced a peach flavoured beverage as an alternative supplement. I somehow found out from her that I had to move back to ward 62 because some infection control team went against the decision to let me return early. I thought she was pulling my leg but she was in all seriousness. I lay on my bed looking up at the ceiling, thinking about my short-lived happiness. Not long, nurses came in to affirm that. But eventually, there was good news: instead of going back to that sickening place, I would go to ward 5A instead, just 3 floors below 8A. Ward 5A is actually a pretty nice ward, although some designs could be tweaked to make the stay a more pleasant one. But I could have been elsewhere worse, so I should be contented with what I had.
On day 15 of the induction phase also my fourth day in ward 5A, another bone marrow aspiration was performed on me. Results were out and they decided that I need not continue with chemo. That was a relief, but the hair dropping side effect of the chemo drugs I had taken earlier on, began. Luckily, I had shaven my head prior to chemo. Short, prickly bits of hair penetrated the pillow cover and it didn't take long before I was alarmed at how much hair the pillow cover had trapped. I was having constipation plus diarrhea. Now I wonder if that was a side effect but either my stool couldn't exit, or if it did, it came out watery and in very small amounts. I also felt pile(s) inside me. It (they) trigger the feeling of wanting to take a dump, and each bowel clearance didn't feel "clean" or "complete".
One night, I needed platelets transfusion again. For the first time, I felt a burning sensation running from my ears down to my neck. I highlighted that to the nurse, who reduced the rate of transfusion under the doctor's instruction. Thereafter, it felt alright, but soon, I experienced a chills episode for the second time. It lasted 20 minutes before my fever spiked to 39.5 degree Celsius and I vomited. One antibiotic that I was taking via drip had been changed to a less potent one in tablet form. Because of that fever, I had to be on drip again on a more potent antibiotic. Also, as with every fever spike, blood had to be taken via the PICC line and also from another vein in my other arm. That meant having to get poked by a needle. The PICC line has two ports and both were blocked once when I was in ward 62. They were blocked again one day in ward 5A. Trained personnel would try to inject heparin, an anticoagulant, to try to unblock them. If it fails, a doctor would use a thrombolytic agent called urokinase. But if medication had to be given before they were unblocked, the nurses would have no choice but to set up a standard IV plug. You might have guessed it: more poking. Other minute problems like sore throat, pale in comparison. However, the point I want to highlight is that I did not experience a single major problem called cancer, but also other smaller ones that accompanied it.
Actually, it is easy to name nurses that I especially liked. You might never know them, but they are Diana, Elma, Haidee, and Muan from ward 5A. There were none from ward 62 obviously, and all the nurses in 8A and 8C were pretty good. Although a friend of mine who worked in 5A said that I commented a lot, I feel that my comments were pretty constructive, and I do appreciate most nurses for the commitment and their taking care of me. Well, for a nurse who committed 3 mistakes in a single night, would you actually expect me to not comment at all/think that I comment for nothing?
A third bone marrow aspiration was scheduled on day 28, but it was brought forward to day 22. The next day, I was abruptly told that I could be discharged because the preliminary results of the bone marrow test suggested that I was good enough to go, plus my cell counts were rising, albeit slowly. I was also told that the next phase, the consolidation phase, was slated to start the second Friday from that day. I was informed that for that phase, I needed to return for a 5-day chemo for every 21 days, with a minimum of 3 cycles. However, just before I was discharged, I was told that a blood test would be taken that fateful Friday to determine if I needed further chemo. No word of a bone marrow transplant was mentioned as well. I was suddenly so confused and taken aback. Now I am back home, and soon realised that the pros and cons of staying at home and at the hospital are stark.
Well, at the very least, the doctors seem to have a positive outlook about my condition (hope I didn't read them wrongly), and here I am, still on the the road to recovery.
Comments
Post a Comment