Showing posts with label hospital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospital. Show all posts

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Woman With a Power Port Coming Through

Monday morning, at 5:45 a.m., I report to the hospital for outpatient surgery.  Dr. Martin will be inserting my "Power Port", which is an implantable device that will make life easier...or so I've been told. 

One of the side-effects of chemotherapy is that your veins are often damaged during the process.  This especially happens when drugs are administered intravenously.   My oncologist wants me to have an implanted catheter inserted to assist with chemotherapy, as well as with blood draws and injections.

The surgery takes approximately thirty minutes, and is performed as an out-patient procedure.  While under general anesthesia, a small port will be inserted into my chest.  An incision will be made on my left side, and the port inserted.  Looking at the picture, you can see how the port inserts directly into a vein.  Think of it like a permanent IV for a while.  The port will be one of my lifelines.  Chemotherapy treatments and any "sticks" will use the port after it is inserted.

It is a triangular shaped object, and has three raised "bumps".  Providers and nurses can feel the bumps under the skin, and then know where the "hole" is.  One of the best things is that I have been prescribed numbing cream when the port will be inserted.  The cream is applied approximately thirty minutes prior to my appointment, and will numb the skin over the port.  After the cream is applied, I have been instructed to place a piece of plastic wrap over the site.  There will now be a roll of plastic wrap in my first aid supplies!

Monday afternoon, I have another appointment with Dr. Jones, my oncologist for final instructions before chemotherapy.  My first chemotherapy treatment will be Thursday, October 6. 

After Monday's surgery, I may have the power to set off security alarms, due to the small amount of metal in the port. Security systems may or may not pick up the metal, but I will have the medical information card to show authorities.  It's not a weapon setting of the security system, just another one of the perks I'm getting during this cancer diagnosis!

TTFN,
-S

Friday, September 9, 2011

There's No Place Like Home

The past two days have been a blur, as you can imagine.  I'm on painkillers (Jeff is spinning a little as I'm typing this), so you'll have to forgive any incoherent sentences or thoughts in this post.  Maybe it's the drugs, the experience, or exhaustion, but my last few days have been very similar to The Wizard of Oz.  Part of it is in sepia, and part in technicolor.  I'll try to share as many details as I remember, and get you "up to speed" on the details.


First, THANK YOU to my incredible guest blogger, Adelia.  Her post was great, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!  (Adelia generally edits my posts after writing, so she is very familiar with my blogging process.)  Hopefully, I can convince my daughter to write additional posts and share her thoughts with you, as cancer is a diagnosis that affects the entire family.


 We reported to the hospital at 8:45 a.m. on Wednesday, and were assigned a room in the day hospital. 



There, I received a fabulous new outfit!  As Arleigh would say, they certainly didn't match!


 As with the entire experience at Coliseum, everyone was so nice and attentive.  I felt like royalty.  Two special nurses  kept coming in checking on me and my family. One is a fellow band-mom and the other is a relative of a co-worker.  The fact that they took the effort to seek me out and ask if my family or I needed anything made me feel very special.  Thank you ladies!

About 10:00 a.m., Dr. Martin came in, carrying a little radioactive lunchbox...or that's what it looked like.  (Kind of reminded me of my old Snoopy lunchbox that I had in elementary school.)  He cleared the room, and then injected the tumor and right breast with a radioactive material.  I have a fairly high pain threshold, and it was painful!!!  Dr. Martin apologized, and said that was the most he would hurt me all day.  The injection itself wasn't painful, but as the material spread throughout, it was agony and brought tears to my eyes.  Dr. Martin was ahead of schedule at that time, and stated it...well, you know what happened next...one thing led to another, and finally around noon they took me to the area "waiting" for surgery.

 In the waiting area, I really wished I had my cell phone with me.  Dr. Martin had to come in and initial the "area to be removed, per hospital policy.  That would have certainly been a "Kodak Moment"...there is my black and blue breast (still bruised from the biopsy three weeks earlier), and he has to write "KM" on it.  Like I said, it was a Kodak moment.  I had to wait for what seemed like forever in the surgical waiting bay.  Lots of women were in labor, and it seemed as if every anesthesiologist was busy putting in an epidural somewhere in the hospital.  I finally had my anesthesia consult, and then it was show time!

Another nurse wheeled me from the surgical waiting area into the operating room.  I remember going through double doors, into the operating room, and seeing my nurse anesthetist (because she had a funky skull cap on).  There was another surgeon in the room (I think I recognized him as a plastic guy, asking something about staples) and that's all I remember!  (Guess this would be the end of the sepia part in The Wizard of Oz.)

Cue music, and then I open my eyes in the recovery room, and everything is in technicolor!  (Did you know that it is no longer called "recovery", but "PACU"?)  PACU is the acronym used for Post-Anesthesia Care Unit.  I remember waking up, then Jeff being there.  After a while, my Mom, Adelia and Daddy all came in to see me, also.  As time passed, we are told there was no room on the postpartum floor (where mastectomy patients are usually placed after surgery), so I would be put in a room on the surgical floor.  (Remember earlier, when all of the anesthesiologists were busy putting in epidurals???)

I do remember speaking with Dr. Martin in PACU.  He was very pleased with the amount of skin he was able to save, and even mentioned that he told Dr. Powell (the Plastic Surgeon) that he left him a good bit for reconstruction.  Dr. Martin said that he expected my cancer to be staged at IIA, (but then he said he heard I already knew that!)  He also put a compression bandage on my chest after surgery, which is not usually done.  Apparently during the radioactive tests, five nodes absorbed the dye.  Of those, two lymph nodes were positive.  During surgery, six lymph nodes were removed from under my right arm.  (I'm still fuzzy on all of this, and will get clarification during next week's appointment).  Just because there were cells in those lymph nodes, Dr. Martin stressed it did not mean there were cancer cells elsewhere. 

I was placed in my hospital room around 5:00 p.m., and this sign was directly at the foot of my bed.  Thing were going ok, pain was minimal, and then the nausea began.  Anesthesia always makes me nauseated, so they administer extra meds during surgery and after.  I've learned this the hard way through the years with dental, sinus and even my tubal ligation surgery.  (If you haven't experienced the terrifying experience of vomiting after surgery, I pray you never do.)

I began getting sicker and sicker.  They were administering nausea meds, in addition to Demerol, but it just wasn't working that well.  It would come on, and then ease off.  One nurse even had me "sniffing" alcohol pads.  She recently read a study where the smell of alcohol helped with nausea, and I have to admit that there were numerous times throughout the night that it did help ease my nausea. A call to Dr. Martin late Wednesday evening added some additional nausea medicine, but it was still a very long, long night.  (How I longed for some Phenergan.  Did you know that it is not used in hospital IVs, due to damage sustained when administered via veins?). 
 
After a very, very, very long night, my pain medication was changed, as perhaps the vomiting was due to a reaction to the Demerol.  Dr. Martin came in for morning rounds, and was very pleased with the incision, and removed the compression bandage.  He said I was ready to go home and rest!  After Dr. Martin's visit, a representative from Chichesters (a local medical supply business) brought my surgical camisole, a medical case worker and Kim, my Oncology Nurse Navigator, all came to visit around the same time.  Kim continues to impress me with each visit, and this one was no different.  (She even took over "basin duty" from my Mom and Jeff, during several of my episodes while visiting.)

A change was made to my pain medication, and we were able to leave the hospital around 11:15 a.m.  I had on my new breast insert, inside my post-operative camisole, as we left the hospital.  On the way home, I took a Phenergan, per Doctor's orders.

Saying "Thank You" for your prayers and support is just not adequate, as I finish this first phase of my breast cancer treatment.  My next appointment with Dr. Martin is Thursday, September 15 at 1:40 p.m.

 We finally made it home, and just like Dorothy, I had to admit that  "there's no place like home!"

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Transition from Two to One

So, Mom asked me to be her guest blogger tonight while she is in the hospital.  This will probably be nowhere near as good as her previous blogs, but I'm going to attempt it anyway.  Here goes nothing!

After Mom woke up and battled a case of hiccups for 20 minutes this morning (it took so long because she couldn't drink anything!), we made it to the hospital around 8:45 a.m.  She then got checked in, was given her "hospital jewelry", and taken into a Pre-Op Room.  We waited for 4 hours while Mom got her IV started, followed by her radioactive injection, which would be picked up by the lymph nodes so that they could be examined during surgery.

Around 12:45 p.m the nurse came and wheeled her into Holding.  There, she had to wait forever (or so she says...:) until an anesthesiologist was available, because so many of them were doing epidurals in Labor and Delivery.  To pass the time, we all went and ate in the Cafeteria (my first and last time), came back, and then waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  At about 2:15 we got a call saying that Mom had been been in the OR for around 10 minutes, and that we should be getting another call soon about the lymph nodes status.

It never came.

We waited (anybody else sensing a familiar theme here?) until about 4:15, when there was a knock on our door.  Dr. Martin himself walked in to update us on everything: Mom had minimal bleeding, no complications, etc: a good surgery in general.  The lymph nodes, however, were another story.  During the MRI, a suspicious-looking node was detected.  Out of five lymph nodes that absorbed the radioactive injection, two tested positive for cancer.  Dr. Martin said that as a precaution, he removed other additional nodes under her arm.  He also said that if he had to guess, her cancer would be at Stage 2A.

From that point on, things went pretty smoothly.  Mom woke up from the anesthesia in Recovery with limited nausea, which was fixed right away with some medicine, along with painkillers.  (Her pupils were so small it scared me!)  An hour later, she was transferred to her room for the night.  She threw up a little and felt very dizzy, but it soon passed; when I left around 7:15, she was doing fine.

Since then, Mom has thrown up more and had lots of dry heaves, but is now asleep. We are so appreciative of all the prayers, love, and support that have been received -  Mom is amazed by it every day.  We now pray for her to have a speedy and relatively easy recovery, so that she can be one step closer to winning this battle.  Thank you again for helping us get through today, and hopefully Mom will be able to blog tomorrow night!

TTFN,
-Adelia