As always I was dreading it. I was slightly distracted by my initial Radiotherapy consultation in the morning of the 6th but once that was out of the way the full force of what I had to go through hit me.
As always, we had to wait ages outside the chemo unit. The nurse allocated to me was nice. As we went into the unit, I asked if there was a private room free. There was.
No veins in my hand were accessible. The nurse tried to put the cannula into my thumb instead. No luck there. Finally she put it in the crook of my elbow. She started injecting. I threw up. She asked if I wanted her to continue and I nodded. I threw up again. She stopped and went and got the Doctor. We had to wait for the Doctor. While I waited, I lay down and tried to relax.
The Doctor asked a multitude of questions. The upshot was that she was worried I was throwing up because I had an infection. I didn’t think I did and neither did R. It was nerves. The thought of coming back at another date to finish chemo was unmanageable. I couldn’t go back. When she suggested it I started crying. Finally she agreed that they could finish giving it to me if I agreed to contact the hospital if I had any signs of temperature post chemo.
The flaky nurse from chemo two came to give the rest of the chemo. She injected and R held my hand and rubbed my back. I vomited again, moaned, cried and avoided looking at the needle. I knew I was being pathetic but was totally unable to control my reaction. I was terrified, sickened and almost out of control.
Once it was finished I couldn’t even bend down to tie my shoelaces. R had to do it. Living hell.
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