Pre-Chemo Jitters

This chapter is dedicated to Maggie.

Nothing about having breast cancer scared me as much as the prospect of chemotherapy. As the date for my first treatment approached, I became more and more frightened. It was not that I was afraid of needles, because I wasn’t. And although the prospect of losing all of my hair was a bleak one, I was aware that that should not be the focus of my thoughts. My hair would grow back. No, it was purely the thought that dangerous drugs were about to be pumped into my system that had my palms sweating.

After a series of tests that I had not had time for before my surgery (eight days after diagnosis I went “under the knife”), I wandered fearfully up to the oncology floor of St. Mary’s Hospital. The area was quiet that day, the pale pink walls reflecting the sunlight that streamed in the high, old windows. A friendly hospital worker greeted me, and I explained tearfully that I had had my operation and was going to start chemo soon. She showed me around the waiting rooms and even showed me the treatment room, where a dozen high-backed armchairs were arranged in a semi-circle. Because the afternoon was drawing to a close, most of the chairs were empty.

Yes, the nurse explained, I could have my husband or someone else sit with me while I received my injections. The process would take approximately and hour and a half or more, depending on how I adjusted to the drugs. There were also a couple of more private areas with beds, for sicker patients, but if they were free I could choose to have my treatment there. Just seeing where the infusion would take place helped me to wrap my mind around what was going to be happening to me.

My chemo actually had to be delayed for a few days, because the night before my scheduled date, my husband’s younger brother died of lung cancer. I begged my oncologist to let me delay for the funeral. He reluctantly agreed. At the service, when it was time to file out of the chapel, I placed my hand on the closed casket and whispered, “Thanks for the extra courage, Rob.” His passing had made me even more determined to live.

Finally the day arrived. I don’t think I slept much the night before. I was so horribly wound up, terrified that something would go wrong, that I would be allergic to the drugs and have a deadly reaction, or that I was going to be incredibly sick afterwards. Walking down the hall after being called from the waiting room, my knees must have been wobbling. I recall that I was in tears, I was so afraid. Of course, the fact that I had once before almost died from a penicillin injection was in my thoughts.

The oncology nurse, seeing that I was close to total panic, suggested that I take one of the beds. Previously, the staff pharmacist had explained at length what drugs they were giving me and why. I had been weighed, because the amount of the drugs was keyed to my own weight. They were going to give me the maximum lifetime dose, divided into four equal amounts over the four infusions. A/C or Adriamycin / Cyclophosphamide, is pretty severe stuff.

The nurse, as she inserted the first needle, went over the procedure. They started with saline, let one drug filter in slowly, and then washed the vein with saline before starting the next infusion. At the end, there would be another saline wash. I was to tell her at once if I felt any burning sensation or noticed any swelling. The drugs could not be allowed to get under the skin; they had to be injected into the vein.

I held my husband’s hand, and I tried to breathe normally. I was still scared to death. The drip continued. My sinuses started to clog up, and I had been warned to tell the nurse if this happened. She slowed the drip and the problem went away. Two hours later, I think it was, I was allowed to go home. I was again cautioned against eating too much. To my surprise, I did not feel too bad. The side effects had not yet kicked in. Over the next few days and weeks, though, they did, with a vengeance. I’ll cover that in a separate chapter, entitled “Chemotherapy Side Effects”. Although side effects are many and varied, and some are pretty awful, they can be different for everyone. Some women, depending on the drugs they are given and how their individual body reacts, feel well throughout chemo. Some are really quite ill. Some react differently from session to session. I did, with some effects remaining constant and with others varying from treatment to treatment. Because some of them are rare, I will share those with you in case you get them, too.

But the fact is, after every chemo I was able to get up and leave. At no point during the treatments did anything dramatic happen. My nausea was well countered by the drugs I was given. For the record, they were Kytril and Decadron an hour before each treatment, then Decadron three times more at 12-hour intervals, with Stemetil as a back-up if I felt nauseous over the next few days. I usually used the back-up until day four, by which time I had no more nausea. The drugs they have today are miles ahead of those they used in the past.

As far as eating goes, for the day of chemo DO NOT over-indulge even if you feel good. I did, second time around, and oh, golly, was I sick. I guess that a lovely submarine was the wrong thing to try. After that, I stuck with chicken soup and crackers until day two.

There are some things that your nurses will no doubt tell you, about your mouth, and about watching your temperature. I’ll do my best to cover all of that in the next chapter, which will be “Getting Through Chemo.” Please remember, all of my anecdotes are personal and may not apply to you. I just hope that I have been able to ease some of your fears. Chemo is frightening, and the side effects can be nasty or non-existent, it all depends on which drugs you are given and how you as an individual react to them. But I can tell you unequivocally that chemo is do-able. After all, we women are darned tough when we have to be! And guess what! You are being given chemo to kill the cancer, and to improve your chance at a long and healthy life. Right now, you feel as if this is never going to end. But it will. I am barely past surgery, chemo and rads (treatment ended Sept 04), and I am fighting like a demon to be strong and to believe that I am going to have a long life. Of course, that means changing my diet and exercising regularly…. But now I am thoroughly motivated.

So, if you are having pre-chemo jitters, take a few deep breaths and chin up! You are going to get through this, and a year from now, you will be sharing your renewed sense of hope with other cancer patients, spreading the word that we can do this, can that nothing is going to stop us until we have a cure!

Love, Pam

P.S. If reading this helped you, please consider linking to this site and telling others about it. Thank you, and best of luck to you!

Legal Stuff

• Disclaimer
• Privacy Statement
• Copyright

 Resources

I have been so grateful to have had access to web-based support groups and to breast cancer information. Here's a list of Web Resources that helped me. If you know of other good ones, please e-mail me and I will add them to the list.

Wonderful Books

Walk-a-thon 2007