My left arm has become swollen over the last two weeks and I have developed a pain all up my arm into my shoulder. I mentioned this to one of the nurses in the chemo ward as I attended for session ten. The oncologist was summoned and he said he suspected I may have a deep vein thrombosis so chemo could not go ahead today. I spent the morning in the hospital having scans on my arm and shoulder. The photo above is my arm with a PICC line inserted into my left arm. The PICC line, short for peripherally inserted central catheter is a tube pushed up my vein in my arm and eventually into a vein in my chest. This is left attached to me permanently for the length of my six months chemotherapy treatment. The line allows direct access for the chemotherapy to be administered. One of the possible problems is that it can cause a deep vein thrombosis to occur. It has been confirmed that I do have a deep vein thrombosis in my chest. So annoying, this means that the chemotherapy now stops at number nine. I am worried that I have not had enough to kill any rogue cancer cells, but nothing else can be done. I spent the afternoon in another ward of the hospital waiting to be treated. Eventually I was given an injection of heparin which is an anticoagulant. The nurse injected this into my stomach. I was told that heparin is fast acting and I must inject myself every day in the stomach for a month. What was that again, inject myself, I don't think I can do this. I went home not feeling my usual sickness from the chemotherapy that should have been but very scared of what tomorrow brings, and I could not see how on earth I was going to stick a syringe into my own stomach.
Ok, the time had come on the next day for me to open the box of syringes and do something I thought a couple of years ago would be impossible. I sat on my chair with my belly exposed and a syringe in my hand. It was not about the pain I was worried, but by the actual act of injecting myself. I sat for a few minutes thinking. I realised in the end that there was no way out of this situation other than to go ahead and inject myself. I squeezed some flesh together, hovered the end of the needle over the flesh. I tried to angle the needle straight then plunged. I was surprised I hardly felt anything. I pushed down on the plunger until the syringe was empty then pulled the needle out in as straight a line as I could. I had done it, I was so pleased with myself and relieved that today's ordeal was over. Each day for a month I went through the same procedure, each time the fear and reluctance. As the month progressed the fear gradually got better and now it was becoming a normal accepted procedure. I was surprised how quick I could get used to it. Before I had been diagnosed with cancer I had a great fear of needles, which now has gone. After the month my stomach was a mass of holes and black and blue from bruising caused by the injections. Towards the end of the month I attended a warfarin clinic at the hospital and received warfarin tablets and a book to record blood tests in. I was to take tablets for six months to thin my blood and disperse the blood clot safely. I was to go for a blood test every two weeks to make sure my blood readings were right to disperse the clot.
It is funny how we go through life thinking we know exactly how we would react in various different circumstances that may happen to us. It is not until we are faced with them that we find out what is in us. We sometimes act and feel different from the way we imagine we will. Nobody wants to have cancer but I am stronger person because of it. We do things we didn't think we could and we are desperate to overcome this illness and live. I have found an inner strength that I never knew was there.
Ok, the time had come on the next day for me to open the box of syringes and do something I thought a couple of years ago would be impossible. I sat on my chair with my belly exposed and a syringe in my hand. It was not about the pain I was worried, but by the actual act of injecting myself. I sat for a few minutes thinking. I realised in the end that there was no way out of this situation other than to go ahead and inject myself. I squeezed some flesh together, hovered the end of the needle over the flesh. I tried to angle the needle straight then plunged. I was surprised I hardly felt anything. I pushed down on the plunger until the syringe was empty then pulled the needle out in as straight a line as I could. I had done it, I was so pleased with myself and relieved that today's ordeal was over. Each day for a month I went through the same procedure, each time the fear and reluctance. As the month progressed the fear gradually got better and now it was becoming a normal accepted procedure. I was surprised how quick I could get used to it. Before I had been diagnosed with cancer I had a great fear of needles, which now has gone. After the month my stomach was a mass of holes and black and blue from bruising caused by the injections. Towards the end of the month I attended a warfarin clinic at the hospital and received warfarin tablets and a book to record blood tests in. I was to take tablets for six months to thin my blood and disperse the blood clot safely. I was to go for a blood test every two weeks to make sure my blood readings were right to disperse the clot.
It is funny how we go through life thinking we know exactly how we would react in various different circumstances that may happen to us. It is not until we are faced with them that we find out what is in us. We sometimes act and feel different from the way we imagine we will. Nobody wants to have cancer but I am stronger person because of it. We do things we didn't think we could and we are desperate to overcome this illness and live. I have found an inner strength that I never knew was there.