A sting in the tail

So no sooner had I logged my Christmas Day post than the fist of two ill-fitting shoes fell.

First I got the news on Boxing Day that my Neutrophils (a type of white blood cell) were at an all-time low and this would explain my particularly low energy levels.

 In actual fact I had awoken on Boxing Day feeling like I had the worst hangover in history and yet I was quite certain that no alcohol had passed my lips. Unless some nurse overimbued with festive spirit had tipped some into my canula it was not a hangover making me feel so craptastic!

As the day wore on the second shoe dropped. My blood pressure proceeded to dive and by the evening it was clear that my low neutrophils had make me easy pickings for an infection. Cue nasty chest cough. 

 I spent Friday morning huddled under multiple thin hospital blankets. Blood tests confirmed my white blood cells were continuing their descent and my blood pressure was giving a convincing impression that my heart was anywhere but beating enthusiastically in my chest cavity. Oh and the cough was worse.

Just after lunch the nurse appeared to check my "obs" and calmly squeezed my forearm before preparing me for what was to come next. It was time to call in the cavalry. Cue the ICU doctor.

What ensued over the next 12 hours will be forever etched in my mind. I didn't have the benefit of being unconscious so the only part that isn't imprinted on my brain is the view of the corridor, lift and the general ICU area as they wheeled me there. For some reason I had my eyes closed. Oh that would probably be because I was in such a weakened state I could barely keep my eyes open so squeezing them shut was far less taxing.

It wasn't until 48 hrs later that I worked out that the entire ICU wasn't made up of individual rooms full of medical equipment and state of the art monitors....and a bathroom of my own. Why my view out the door was of a storage shelf and the doctors and nurses had what looked like a card table set up in my doorway. 

Hmmnnn that would be because I was in the isolation room! One of only two such rooms in ICU. They had to be perched right outside my room because the nurses station was 20 metres away and I was requiring constant attention!

Just a tip. If you do happen to have the misfortune of ending up in ICU pray you are unconscious. Putting in an arterial line fricking hurts. Like buggery!!!! What is an arterial line you ask? It's a nasty long needle about 10cm long that needs to inserted into your radial artery at your wrist. Yes very unpleasant! Requires sutures to keep it in that were bloody painful in the meaty part of my palm for the time it was in. Thankfully I was pretty drugged up so this wasn't a big issue. Getting them removed was a different matter!

Attached to an arterial line (helps them accurately monitor your vitals) and with sticky bits all over my chest for other measurements I looked like Pinocchio.

Sorry for the pathetic photo...this was taken when the emergency had passed (24hrs in) and I was able to smile despite how truly horrid the situation had become.

Preceding this shot was the initial hours of desperately low blood pressure where they were pumping me full of fluid and seeing if my BP would rise and if my kidneys were going to keep functioning. They also got me onto antibiotics quick smart and the middle of the night heralded the arrival of my long lost friend N.A.U.S.E.A. with her close friend Vomiting! My lovely ICU nurse assured me that these two were welcome party arrivals as it was "all sputum....no stomach acids" which was apparently! Mind you it didn't feel so great to me to be covered in vomit and wires and it occurring to me that this might actually be what it feels like before you die.

ICU is a stripped back environment and there was nothing soft-focus about it. Lying in the half-light of monitors that are actually attached to you and reflecting my real precarious state and not some sound effect on a TV drama was distressing it say the least.

Fast forward it the following day and whilst my white blood cells were refusing the advice to surface, Agent-Orange like antibiotics had held infection at bay and with the amount of fluids they'd pumped into me I could have served as a tug boat for the Titanic!!!

It took another day before I was shipped back to my room on the ward and it took 13 long days before I was able to make my escape from the hospital.

This is my selfie when I got the news that my Neutrophils had passed the no-go zone

Just over an hour later my break-out crew arrived to extricate me from the clutches of the ward

Home. Happy. Healthy (as healthy as I can be at this juncture!).

With my family and very grateful to be here despite the sting in craptastic chemo's tail!

The top photo is the lovely nurse who saw me off to ICU and serendipitously was my discharge nurse today! What a lovely coincidence. So very nice to have her there to see me go home smiling.

New Year's Day for 2014 for us is officially today- Jan 3. Bring on 2014!!!!!

Best pressie santa could bring us

Christmas this year has been spent lounging around in hospital. I observed to my own personal reindeer (Saint Mike) that this was a rather extreme way of ensuring a stress-free Christmas Day!

What has been absent this year due to my planned admission for blessed relief from craptastic chemo nausea you ask?

- No psycho mummy attempting to create a feast worthy of Martha Stewart

- No control enthusiast mummy attempting to orchestrate setting of table to match feast worth of Martha

- No control enthusiast mummy cracking the complete shits because no one can get their arses enthusiastically to the table to enjoy (and provide positive reinforcement) for said feast worthy of Martha

Ahhhhhhhhh can you hear Saint Mike's sigh of relief?

Instead I came into hospital on Sunday and have remained cocooned in what is a very quiet hospital over the Christmas break. Coming to it with very low expectations it has been blessedly stress free for me too. Oh aside from the cough I've picked up from a rather over enthusiastic air conditioning vent above my bed:)

I decided not to set daddy any hurdles to jump over and left alone he has hit all the right notes...my room gets the prize for the most festive in the hospital (according to every staff member that crosses the doorstep).

The girls brought their bean bags and lay about to watch the Carols (Melbourne/Channel 9 version!!!)

I awoke on Christmas morning with a suitable burst of energy and had a wonderful visit with my little elves and stubbly reindeer. I opened my presents and didn't once have to adopt the dreaded "present receiving face"! I was just so grateful to be with my gorgeous little family and be able to share such special time with them.

Having unwrapped my gifts I gave my KATs the best pressie they could ever receive (I hoped). The news that this hospital visit spells the end of my downward trip resulting from craptastic chemo. After six tortuous cycles my oncologist has decided that I can forego cycle 7!!!!! No more FECking FEC for me:)

There were tears all round from Oldest KAT, Middle KAT and me. Saint Mike and Littlest KAT stayed composed. The relief in my beautiful girls eyes was palpable.

Truly the best pressie ever - a mummy that will start to get better in the New Year.

Halloween

Things have been subdued over here in KATcapers land. Despite my best intentions my blogging continues to be sporadic.

Craptastic chemo was never going to be a beer and skittles affair. I knew that. I just hoped that I would get cut a few breaks when it came to side effects. Unfortunately each cycle thus far has featured its own drama. 

Whilst my first visit to hospital was a fairly calm affair, my subsequent trip to the emergency room last week was less slightly more dramatic in that I was dehydrated and losing bodily fluids from both ends! Craptastic chemo is not only causing me kt have severe nausea but is also messing with my bowels something nasty!

It was distressing for all of us but I have been particularly concerned about the impact on the girls when I have to be rushed off to hospital. 

I seem to have one week out of three now where I'm relatively energetic (to a point) and so I am trying to busy myself with crafty pursuits to take my mind off the fact that I have an appointment with a canula every three weeks that I would prefer to skip!

Exhibit A is the above image - fabric covered canvas for a teacher at school who has a new grandchild. 

Exhibit B was another fabric covered canvas made for another lady at school....as you can tell my innovation with a fabric covered canvas is a bottomless pit!

 

I also managed to finish three shelves that I'd picked up from council cleanup - wallpaper found on Etsy and a few sample pots did the trick. My skills with a drill and a spirit level still need some work but I'm happy with the result.

Next chemo is November 8th and my oncologist has arranged for me to check into hospital on day 4 post-chemo to be attached to a drip and fed anti-nausea drugs and fluids to help me ride out what seems determined to be the week from hell each cycle. Hopefully this will be a calm and controlled process that we can ensure doesn't traumatise the girls and keeps me relatively healthy.

Halloween decorations will be the topic of my next post...even craptastic chemo can't subdue the frustrated event planner in me and I decorated up a storm...before collapsing in bed and missing the afternoons proceedings:)

Lull in communication

Apologies about my sudden radio silence. Round two of craptastic chemo didn't follow the anticipated gradient (upwards) and instead I seemed to lurch from one day to the next feeling nauseous and lacking in anything that could be described as energetic.

It culminated in an overnight stay in hospital to have some fluids put in and some checks done to make sure there were no underlying issues with my bowel....it had decided to hog some of the limelight and was behaving rather badly! On strike and seemingly immune to whatever went in there to try to wake it up...and then suddenly deciding to have a hissy fit and make me seriously want to die due to the painful cramping and nasty business emanating from my nether regions.

I have tried to adopt a more relaxed routine in an attempt to cooperate with my lovely oncologist so I took to teaching myself how to crochet with zpagetti. If you're unfamiliar with this phenomenon you should check it out! My friend who suggested it reminds me that it's perfect for a more "free form" expression....which translates to "missed stitches...who cares!!!".

It was frustrating and it took quite a few attempts before I mastered the stitches...I'm doing a cheats version of the magic circle (crochet speak). My first attempt was this....

It was supposed to be a vessel but it started to look like a bottle cover so in the end I decided just to let it be:)

The next attempt was much improved and is now sitting proudly where I can admire it regularly! I am just loving playing with the zpagetti colours (trying to contain how many colours I succumb to) and have been practising stars and flowers...even made a garland for my beautiful friend who introduced me to this therapy.

So that was a great way of distracting you from how crappy I am feeling! Craptastic chemo round 3 was last Friday and I'm going to try and spend the day in bed giving my body the rest it needs.

Yes there was the happy chemo face on show....all I can do is keep smiling when I can and not focus too much on how much the after affects crush my spirit. 

Round 3 of 7 done....in another week we will hit the half way mark. That's something to look forward to:)

Getting back on the chemo horse

This morning I stood in the shower staring blankly at my hands covered equally in shampoo suds and my hair. Every day I have gingerly touched my hair waiting for it to give up the follicular ghost. 

As I mentioned in my last post I had even started to feel a bit of imposter syndrome creeping in as the days passed and I was not bald!

I had rationalised that as my 1st chemo session had been such a debacle I had been spared losing my hair and it would happen in the next few weeks post my new FEC cocktail commencing. So as I showered this morning with my head full of "worry" about what the day would bring in the chemo-lucky-dip department I absent-mindedly shampooed my hair. Seeing that amount of hair come away without even a whimper (no discomfort felt at all) was truly perplexing. Almost in disbelief I shampooed for a 2nd time and sure enough more hair fell out. 

I felt a bit bewildered to be honest. It's odd how even though I knew it was going to happen the timing just caught me by surprise. In order to give the KATs plenty of forewarning I called them in and gave them the news. Oldest KAT seemed unperturbed as did Littlest KAT. Not unsurprisingly Middle KAT did her best to be stoic but was clearly perturbed.

Annoyingly I couldn't spend the entire day pondering the imminent reveal of my scone as I had my chemo appointment to get to! So I ignored the hair mounting on the floor, in the basin and on the counter (note to self - white corian bench top is a VERY bad idea!).

I chose to dress in super bright spring colours today to counter the feelings of anxiety that could have swamped me if permitted. I'm trying to stetch my blogging skills so created this collage of the outfit...wasn't up for photos today!

It wouldn't be me if the chemo clogs didn't get an outing! My nails are also currently coral pink/orange shellac:)

The top looks blah but in actual fact it's a really nice lime green and I love it with the coral.

I'll post in more detail on how the actual chemo went but in short I'm home, I'm on an anti-nausea drug that doesn't give me lock jaw and a nasty metallic taste in my mouth. I am wiped out and am going to stay in bed and rest as long as my body tells me it needs to (thank goodness for another week of school holidays).

Over and out from my own personal pharmacy!!!