The beginning of an end.
It was Christmas morning and I was happy to finally be discharged from the hospital. The matron walked in with my discharge papers and a tonne of medications.
I hate pills more than anything. I would rather come for injections everyday through the course of my treatment than swallow pills.
“The doctor has told me to inform you to empty the drain disk that is attached to you regularly,”she said.
``There will be a lot of fluid coming out of your incision into the disk because there is a lot of swelling in the region. The release of the fluid helps with the healing of the breast.
``When all the fluid is out, it will begin to heal properly from the inside without infections. I must warn you though, as the swellings go down, so would your breast size.’’
I was shocked by that information. To me, that was a lot to process but I think what got me was the fact that my breast was going to get smaller than what I was already looking at.
“How long will I have this attached to me and when can I start chemotherapy,” I asked with nervousness in my eyes.
“Most likely a minimum of 3 weeks,” she replied.
“The breast incision has to heal completely before you can proceed with your therapy because proceeding before it heals will prevent it from healing at all.”
I thanked her as I packed my pills in my bags, headed out and thought of the battle ahead throughout my ride home.
The next couple of weeks were quite painful and hard.Luckily, I was given strong painkillers that actually made a difference but they wore off after 6 hours and I was always back to my terrible pain.
At that moment I saw how and why some people got addicted to pain medications and fought hard to stick to my medications as scheduled.
After 5 weeks, my drain was finally taken out and within a week, my stitches had healed completely.
Chemotherapy begins.
The healing meant it was time for chemotherapy. I was made to undergo various tests to determine the type of chemotherapy I needed and if my body was strong enough to undergo the treatment. A week later, I began my therapy sessions.
I walked into the chemotherapy ward and was directed to a section where I was expected to pick a seat.
I sat down on the most comfortable seat available as I waited to be attended to. A nurse walked in with a warm and encouraging energy and she sat in front of me and gave me a handshake.
“My name is Grace and I will be taking care of you today. I want you to know that you will pull through this.
“This room has people undergoing the same treatment as you and many of them are close to remission."
I looked around the room and noticed that there was a range of people. People of various ages, looks and walks of life who had been brought to the same room by almighty cancer.
At this point, cancer had found a way to make us all equal.
The nurse brought over a tray with an IV set and two IV bags. She gently wiped my arm with a cotton pad damped with mentholated spirit and slid the needle into a visible vain in my arm.
She set the bag on a pole as she said “This will take a while but please press the bell if you need me.”
I sat there reading a book I had come with to occupy my mind during the session which had already seemed like a long time but had barely begun when suddenly, I felt a horrible pain overwhelm my body.
I called for the nurse by pressing the bell and began to panic.
“What’s wrong Jean, how can I help you?”
“My body really hurts and it feels like my veins are burning," I said as a tear rolled down my cheek.
I was overwhelmed with fear as I wondered if I was reacting badly to the drugs or had been given the wrong medication.
“Breathe Jean, breathe. The pain is normal. Over time the pain will stop so just try to take the pain from your mind.
‘’ You are aware of all the other possible side effects right?’’
“Yes,” I replied. “I just didn’t know the pain would be this bad.”
The following weeks came with burnt vein marks, muscle aches, fevers, skin reactions and hair loss but they were constant reminders that I was a step closer to beating breast cancer.
After 8 sessions of chemotherapy, I had been made to continue my treatment with 10 sessions of radiotherapy which was a lot nicer on my body as it gave lesser side effects.
I was not sure how long I would have to deal with the side effects of my therapy but one thing I knew for sure was that I was going to fight for my life.
コメント