part 2~ a walk through hell...

So I went into surgery, had the port installed, celebrated Thanksgiving my family. My first round of chemo was scheduled. December 16, 2005. I remember I woke up that morning, feeling optimistic. Not completely terrified. I can and will beat this. Positive, positive, positive. If I lost my hair, so what? It's just hair. I'd slap some RED lipstick on, big hoopy earrings and wear it well. Until I actually walked into the room with the recliners (there's 2 in each treatment room) and sat down. One of the nurses came in and asked how I was doing. That was all it took. I broke. I cried like I've never cried before. I was so scared. They gave me the hugs and support I needed, brought in a woman that had been going through this for awhile, and got me started. I was going every other Friday, for 2 different kinds of chemo. One was so bad that it had to be manually pushed into my port. If it was accidentally spilt on skin, or was not in the vein properly, it would eat your tissue to the bone.
So I sat there for about 4 hours (maybe it was more) watching as I slowly allowed someone to poison my body. drip. drip. drip. But they used my port and it was working wonderfully! When I was finished with my first treatment, I went home and straight to bed. And slept for about the whole weekend. I went to work Monday, starting to feel run down. But not another treatment until after the holidays! Yay! I would sleep on my lunch hour. My appetite dwindled. I wasn't vomiting, no poopies, just tired. And during all this, I'm doing last minute Christmas shopping, preparations, etc.
* little backstory*Christmas Eve is spent with Jim's step-daughter (from the relationship before me) and her family. Tammy was the one who told me about her company hiring, set up the appt for me, everything. I had quit my job of 8 years to babysit Tammy's first baby, Taylor in 2001.

So that evening we head over to Tammy's to spend Christmas Eve with her family. I'm not feeling good, I had a little bit of a temp, just what I was told to expect, really. Run down. We have so much fun with Taylor, it's her first Christmas and it was magical! We go home, get our kids tucked in, because like all young teens, they will be up before the sun!
I wake up the next morning and can barely move. My temp is sky high. It's Christmas morning! The kids open their presents, we call their dad for him to come early to get them, Jim & I head to the ER. Something must wrong. I get there about 7:30 a.m. They take my temp and it's 103.7. They tell me they will be drawing blood to start some tests. I make sure they know to use the port (hey that is why its there!) so no vein poking! They come to draw blood, and NOTHING will come out. Ok, remember when I said it's attached to your artery? Yea, blood is supposed to be FLOWING through it. Nada. Zilch. Dry. Guess what? It turns out my port is infected. My infect port has now given me Sepsis. For those that don't know what sepsis is:

sep·sis
(sěp'sĭs) n. pl. sep·ses (-sēz)
1. The presence of pathogenic organisms or their toxins in the blood or tissues.
2. The poisoned condition resulting from the presence of pathogens or their toxins, as in septicemia.

It literally almost killed me. That night. I was admitted into the hospital, they forgot to turn the temp up in the room, by evening I had so many IV's attached. That evening I began to convulse (or so Jim has told me repeatedly) my blood pressure did its weird thing, my heart rate did it's weird thing. Then it just stopped and I was back.
By the time I left the hospital, it was New Years Day, the port had been removed, I had a large blue tube stuck in the side of my throat for an IV that I would have to attach several times a day. (It has left a small hickey looking scar on my neck. I still get teased! LOL!) I had a home nurse that would come in everyday, to check to ensure that I was getting better, that the infection was going away. Let me stop here and say this. I was MISERABLE in the hospital. The staff acted like I was putting them out by being sick during the holidays. Ok, so maybe it was. But come on, your a nurse for a reason. Your supposed to want to help those that are too sick to help themselves. Not only was the staff horrible, but about 5 days into my stay my hair started falling out. I was so sick I truly did NOT want to see anybody and there were times during that hospital stay that I was so sick that I really did wish that I would just go ahead and kick off. I've never been so sick in my life. On New Years Eve I point blank told the docs that they would figure out a way for me to get home to be with my kids (their dad had to go back to work) or I would walk myself out of the blankity blank blank hospital. My Daddy was a truck driver, I know lots of good ole boy cusses! I would never, ever, never recommend that hospital to anyone. It is forever referred to as the Veterinary Clinic around our house.

Well, that's it for part 2. Got to get some sleep!