If you are reading this for the first time and want to hear the whole story, look under "BLOG ARCHIVE" on the right. Read the oldest blog first, starting with "The Diagnosis" in January 2009 (click on it) and continuing down. The blog you see below is the most recent and you want to read it last.

Friday, March 19, 2010

SIR Spheres Step 1

Here’s a detailed report of the first step in the SIR Spheres treatment. We arrived at the hospital shortly before 7:00 am. My mother and her significant other Paul took me. Thankfully all of the admission paperwork, blood tests and preliminary examinations went quickly. There was no annoying waiting. By 8:30 they were wheeling me into the procedure room. There was a lot of preparation such as shaving and sterilizing my groin, hooking me up to IVs and positioning the CT scanner and monitors. The shaving part went quick because with chemo the hair on your head is not the only hair you lose. As I was laying there the first complication set in. I realized that I had not remembered to urinate before leaving the holding room. Upon realizing that I immediately had to go. I considered braving it out but when they told me it would take more than an hour and I would be conscious throughout, the panic set in and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it. By this time I was strapped in, hooked up and had a surgical apron over the area with three or four nurses and technicians hovering around and the doctor on his way in. But I had no choice. I sheepishly told a nurse that I had to go. She brought over one of those plastic bottles and she put it down there and held it. Think that’s embarrassing? It gets worse. Guess what came out of me. Nothing! So she asked if I wanted her to leave the bottle there for a few minutes. I said yes and eventually got a little to come out. On with the procedure. They gave me a shot to numb the area and then told me they were putting something through the IV that would relax me. I felt nothing. The actual procedure involved the doctor inserting a catheter and through the catheter he put an instrument that implanted coils to block various veins, arteries and blood vessel while watching the CT monitor. Each time he would call out what I figured was the size coil he wanted. Periodically they would move the CT scanner and tell me to hold my breath while they took another picture. I think this went on for a good hour or so. When the doctor, John Nosher, was done he said “You did good”. I said “The hell with me how did you do?” to which he responded “I did fine”. The doctor left. At this point a male nurse or technician said he was going to remove the catheter. That would leave an opening in my femoral artery which is dangerous. I could bleed to death. So he was going to remove it and immediately apply pressure. He would maintain the pressure for twenty minutes which would allow the artery to form a scab. I said “You’re going to stand there for twenty minutes?”. He said yes and explained that there are devises such as sand bags that can be used to maintain pressure but they feel it is safer to do it manually. Hmmmm. So after about three minutes of pressure complication number two arises. I had to urinate again. I asked why I would be having that sensation and he said that I probably really had to go because they pumped a lot of fluids into me. He also said it was safer for me to go while he was applying pressure. Hmmmmmm. So out came the plastic bottle again. Are you starting to get a mental picture of this embarrassing moment. I’m flat on my back, urinating into a plastic bottle while a guy applies pressure to my groin. Talk about male bonding! After twenty minutes I was told that it was imperative that I remain flat on my back without lifting my head or my legs……for six hours. I knew there was to be a six hour recovery but I didn’t know it would be so rigid. I was not happy. I had to be moved from the procedure table to a stretcher by three nurse/technicians. As they went to move me I instinctively started to wriggle by body towards the stretcher. The tech slapped my leg and said DON’T MOVE. I guess they were serious. Before going back to the holding area they took me to the nuclear medicine department for more scans. They told me they had injected a dye into me in order to take some sophisticated pictures. They had to make sure that my blood was not flowing from the liver (I think) to other organs such as the kidney and lungs. That was the whole purpose of this procedure. So now I’m in the nuclear medicine suite. After about twenty minutes of prepping and some preliminary pictures the technician told me that there was going to be a series of pictures taken as the scanner slowly rotated 360 degrees around my body. It would take about thirty minutes. That was fine with me except for one thing. Complication number three. Yep. I had to go again. So out came another plastic bottle. The female technician summoned a male something or other to “assist” me. I didn’t even care any more. All this stuff they were pumping into me was running through me like a river. We got that done, got the pictures taken, and they brought me back to the holding area. The first thing I asked the nurse in the holding area was whether or not my time in nuclear medicine counted towards the six hours. She said “yes, what was it about a half hour?” I told her it was three hours but she didn’t believe me. She did agree to check the actual time the procedure ended and count from there. It was now about noon. I had not eaten since the night before and I was hungry. They offered me food but here’s where I have to give myself credit. Remember from my last post that I had been battling diarrhea from chemo. Eating seemed to trigger a movement and I had not yet had a normal movement. There was no way I was going to risk having an attack of diarrhea while laying flat on my back and not allowed to move. I can’t even imagine how they would get the bed pan in place. No thanks. I had enough embarrassment for one day. I declined the food. The afternoon went by very slowly. I should point out that I never sleep on my back. It is a very uncomfortable position for me. I could move my arms so I could use the TV they provided. I called Trrrr. I called my aunt. My mother and Paul kept me company off and on. I made it to the final hour and then I started going crazy. I was agonizingly uncomfortable. But I made it. Shortly after 4:00 pm (I think I got a little break) the nurse came in and said I could get up and get dressed. Time for one more embarrassing moment. My mother is great but she is a mother and you know how mothers can be. She looks at this nurse and says “Will someone help him get dressed?” The nurse looks at me and says “Did anyone help you get dressed before you came here this morning?” I said no so he looks at my mother and says ”Then I don’t think he’ll need anyone to help him now” I get to do it all again next week. ------------------------------------------

8 comments:

  1. How many treatments, Jerry?

    You know -- you would think that with all the stuff that was sticking into you, maybe a urinary catheter would be pretty useful, too! Because between now and the next one, you are going to have that dribble on your mind! You don't need that.

    XO Aunt Jo-Ann

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  2. LOL! That was a good one Jerry! I actually giggled through the whole thing. It's kinda about as embarrassing as having a baby, which I'm sure you haven't done, but similar. Someone always in your groin messing around. So it's kinda like you got to experience the mortification of child birth for a while. LOL! Funny you had to pee so much!!!!!
    Tracy Hawker

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  3. YES, Jerry!! One step closer to the little magic beads. I'm glad that all is well. Hang in there. Looking forward to your next update.

    Suzanne

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