I’m not a huge fan
of needles, never have been. I can
usually procrastinate on a flu shot for at least 6 or 7 months and then rightly
justify avoidance on the grounds we are past flu season. Mostly out of necessity, over the last year
and a half I’ve grown more tolerant of getting stuck on a regular basis. Between twice weekly blood tests, chemo
infusions, and blood and platelet transfusions, avoiding needles was like
avoiding breathing. And let’s not forget
the king of needle penetrations, the periodic bone marrow biopsies.
Over time I’ve
gotten pretty good at navigating the stab and jab routines. I’ve learned that there are different needle
types depending on the person’s physique, whether it is for stuff going in or
coming out, and what you plan to do with the intravenous line once you are
tapped in (give blood vs give drugs vs give chemo, etc.). Turns out what they are doing also
determines where in the body you get stuck, a truth that many who have had a
shot in the butt instead the arm can attest to.
There are two
alternatives to limiting the number of needles you have to face, PICC lines and
Ports. A PICC line (Peripherally
Inserted Central Catheter) is what I had when I went through my initial rounds
of chemo. It’s a small operation to
insert a line directly in a vein (usually through the arm and routed to near
the heart) and then extend it outside the body to one or two access ports (Lumens)
that allow the gozintas and gozoutas. A
port is a small chamber (the size of a stack of 3 or 4 half dollars) that also
connects into a vein close to the heart but sits totally under the skin in the
upper chest. Ports have the advantage
that they have no external access Lumens so a patient can shower and swim
without protection and they can stay in for years.
For my first round
of hypomethylation chemo I didn’t have either one so each day the nurse would
have to find a vein and insert an intravenous line. I have good veins but the ones in my lower
arms (where they want to do the chemo infusions) are very “valve-y” (they bleed
nicely but stop infusions). Some days
this could take as many as three attempts and several nurses to find one that
worked. After a few days my arms looked
like a patchwork quilt and nurses would start singing a modified version of
Carly Simon’s “Your so VEIN” when they saw me coming. It was not a surprise that they recommended I
have a port put in before the next round of chemo.
I won’t go into a
lot of detail on the recovery weeks after the first treatment. The good news was there were less stomach
and digestive problems. The bad news, there were more mouth problems and
infection challenges. The mouth sores
were the worst with the top of the mouth feeling like you had just burned it
with a slice of hot pizza. Almost as
uncomfortable was when strips of skin started to shred/peel and hang down from
the roof of the mouth. Nasty. One other difference this time is that my
blood level are not bouncing back. I’ve
needed platelets or blood every 3-4 days and my neutrophils (white blood cells
to fight infection) have been zero pretty much the whole time.
As we approached
the second week of treatment I went into the hospital to have the port
installed in my chest. Cool, I get to go
bionic. The grandkids will love
it. The operation went fine but
unfortunately the recovery didn’t. 48
hours later I’m back in the hospital with a fever, infection and bulging lump
in my chest that looks like I’m about to birth an alien. After several hours of preliminaries in the
ER they checked me into the Ritz Lehigh Valley where the nurses on my old
oncology floor greeted me with open arms.
It’s truly a 5-star experience where I have a “heavenly” adjustable bed,
the finest no-name toiletries, wash cloths that can exfoliate a hippo, plush
towels so absorbent you can dry one leg, these rad slipper socks with sticky
bottoms and a one size fits all designer outfit that snaps at the shoulder for
easy access. They even gave me a plastic beer mug in the
bathroom, although there is no beer… they want me to fill it. Oh, and a personalized fitness program with
daily yoga sessions pushing an IV pole around the floor and a stationary bike
in my room (I think mostly to keep me out of the hallways). And how could I forget the all you can
stomach room service just a phone call away.
They removed the
port and have been pumping me full of antibiotics for the last few days. It appears there is some kind of bacterial
infection causing the swelling, inflamed skin and fevers and given I have no infection
protection they are keeping me isolated until they can get it under
control. They may have to operate to drain
the wound and pack it with antibiotics.
We will find out shortly.
Right now the next
round of chemo is on hold. To think the
decision to avoid needles has resulted in more needles. Go figure.
Time to go old school and maybe back to a PICC line.
Till next time, I’m
just living the dream!
