Well, here I am for infusion #5. I'm slowly learning I have no control over this cancer, or anything, for that matter. I arrived on Monday morning with my usual items in tow. I have my blanket: thank you, Tracy Drouin-you are a ROCK STAR for sending me my most prized possession for getting me through my chemo infusions; my vegan packed lunch and my iPad.
I saw my super fabulous, Nurse Practitioner, April. I really couldn't be more blessed than to have the medical oncology team that I have! Sure, I could have gone to MD Anderson or Johns Hopkins, but who really wants to be hundreds of miles from home when I have an internationally known and highly respected Oncology team in my back yard at Vanderbilt. I know many believe they are being helpful with sharing information regarding cancer with me, but honestly, I have the best team to help me fight this God awful cancer. I don't throw my Oncologist's name around, but trust me, he IS a big deal in the world of Pancreatic adenocarcinoma. If I'm going to beat this, I trust HIM and his team to lead me to victory.
Now about control, or lack thereof. I always arrive with a preconceived notion of how my day is going to go. Heck, this is my second "round" of infusions, so at least I THINK I know how it is supposed to go, in my mind. I'm rapidly learning that I have no control. First, on any day, I can have some energy or be totally wiped out. Second, I believe my bloodwork will be good enough to have an infusion. I've already been denied an infusion because of a low white blood cell count. However, I had not prepared myself for a possible transfusion for anemia.
Yep, that was the curve ball this week. I knew my counts were a little low after my visit to the ER on Friday, but I didn't know how low they would be for my infusion. Well, on Monday, I found out. Not only is my white count low, but my red blood cell count is low, too. My white blood cells were just high enough for the infusion. However, my PCV is 27%. I know, I didn't know what that meant either until I looked it up. What it means is, my red blood cells as a percentage of my total blood, is low. The normal for a woman is about 40%. My NP instructed me that if it gets to 25% I will have to have an transfusion. I thought, "WHAT?!?!? I've never had a transfusion! I have no idea of what to expect with this!"
She told me that if I feel like I'm short of breath or exceptionally tired, I need to call them immediately. I told her, "Well, with this pancreatic adenocarcinoma thing and chemo, I'm pretty much tired all of the time. I've been anemic much of my life. I know what tired is, but this is getting a little ridiculous."
No control...just when I thought I knew what to expect with a second infusion for this round, there's that monkey wrench thrown in.
I'm still grieving so much of my old life and just when I believe I can have some sort of "schedule", I realize there is no such thing. It all depends on my blood counts. Just when I was hoping I might possibly be able to go back to a somewhat normal life, I'm reminded the only thing I can count on is my team of medical professionals at Vanderbilt.
It really is, "One day at a time." Except for Sundays & Mondays...the only days that are consistent for me.
Sunday: I'm racked with anxiety and sorrow missing my old routine of preparing for my week of work.
Monday: wearing a shirt that allows the nurses easy access to my port to take blood for my Doctor or NP to check my blood counts...
After that, it's all a crap shoot as to what will happen.
Time for some O2...breathe...just breathe...
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