Looking back, Miki was
transported to her appointments lying down in the back of the car because she
could not be vertical for more than minutes at a time. The receptionist would come out to the
car and let us know when they were ready for her. Then I wheeled her in, helped her onto the narrow treatment
“slab,” took off her shoes, and waited in the hall while she received her dose
of radiation from 3 different positions.
The process was reversed and then repeated 24 hours later. I wonder if she will walk in under her
own power with her crutches tomorrow after riding in the front passenger seat
to get there. I know it seems like
forever since treatment began, but things have changed for the better in 3
short weeks. An important
milestone on this journey will be celebrated Friday, August 23, 2013. So if you happen to see a woman with
her head hanging out the passenger window of a black SUV, bugs in her teeth and
the wind in her hair…the wind washing over
her bald head, it’s just Miki doing a little celebrating in the end zone.
Chemo on the other hand has
a little more longevity in this game.
So even though Miki finished her second round out of a possible eight
today, every three weeks we will pay a visit to The University of Kansas Cancer
Center community location in Lee’s Summit. A nice facility with super nurses (although we are keeping
our eye on one of them) and friendly support staff. I do not recall what mom’s treatment surroundings looked
like, but this place is big, open, and comfortable, if you like a warm blanket,
snacks, wifi, and bird feeders to watch out the windows. I am guessing hers was not so
much. We have had two outstanding
nurses so far and an excellent bloodletter, you know, the phlebotomist. And the regulars, which I assume we are becoming, seem like family to one another. Aside from the circumstances that bring
all these folks together, you should be so lucky to hang out there with such
real people. If you are going to
have such a shitty thing happen you, then you deserve to be attended to in such
a comforting place with such compassionate people.
Miki’s chemo regiment of
treatment requires 3 days in a row, each of which the majority of time is spent
hooked up to a little machine that controls the IV drip of chemicals that the
nurses have to “suit up” for, while attaching the tubing to her port or the
bags to the little machine. I
imagine, it is similar to what the local HAZMAT team would do at any dangerous
chemical spill, only this spill is controlled. On day one, Miki receives two medications, preceded and
followed by other solutions that come to her in about 7 different IV bags that
are carefully customized in the pharmacy, adjacent to the infusion room (or
chemo room to us non oncologists).
Seven hours later…viola (pronounced wallah…French for wallah! - or -
there you have it) Day one is
over. We are still learning the
nuances of the infusion room, but apparently there are some recliners that are
more coveted than others. Some
vibrate and heat up…that’s right…and you don’t have to feed them quarters. Some patients seem to prefer being
close to the bathroom, one on either end of the room. And we can attest to the brilliance and convenience of that
strategy! And some get what is
available or left over during peak traffic times. But if you have some clout or maybe issues that may not be
envied by your average chemo patient, there are two private rooms available,
one of which we may have to experience before it is all said and done. The second and third days, the two main
drugs that are beating down the cancer cells, along with many other perfectly
good cells, are served up separately, so your time spent being infused is
almost cut in half. That in a
nutshell is the name of that tune.
There will be more to enlighten and educate on this process as time goes
on.
 |
| The Infusion Room. Miki is on the far side, just above center. |
Again, taking a look
back…Miki got her first round of chemo flat on her back in the hospital. Three
weeks later she’s reclining in an industrial cousin to a Lay-Z-Boy for her
second round, conveniently located in an outpatient clinic. Again, things are changing for the
better. Keep up the good mojo
work, it’s making a difference.
 |
| Zzzing toward the end of her treatment and after getting Skunked by me in Cribbage...only after she beat me 3 times in a row. The beating took a lot out of her. Who can blame her, she was SKUNKED! |
My Zen from Home: The first two days of
Miki’s chemo this week, we saw two excellent nurses doing what was expected of
them professionally. Some procedures might
seem redundant, but as a patient it’s being careful. Our nurse today got lazy (admittedly) and skipped what could
turn into a problem, but Miki nicely brought it to her attention and she seemed
a bit more “on it” the rest of her time with her. Miki didn’t get in her face about it, like she normally
would (yeah, right!), but achieved the expected outcome nonetheless. No matter what you are confronted with,
you always have choices (my oldest sister once told me). The problem is, taking the time to
realize what those choices are and selecting the best one for the
situation. Miki’s choice today
helped the nurse save face and brought the level of care back to where it
should have been to start.
Shortcuts are meant for kids that are late getting home after curfew,
not for being lazy at work.
P.S. I know you are shocked that I posted two days in a row...first time on this journey. Don't get use to it!
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