[10-02-08] Catheter Placement #2

[10:21pm]
     Things have been ridiculous...

     First, I've been getting very little sleep lately. Catheter pain has been preventing me from sleeping on my side. Since I can only sleep on my side, this has been problematic for the past week or so. But last night was ridiculous.
     If it wasn't catheter pain keeping me up, then it was my insane Neupogen-related back pain. If it wasn't that, it was a slight fever (100.3). And, of course, we were on tiptoes because a fever of 100.5 or above merits an ER visit. So I got next to no sleep last night.

     Second, I am not supposed to eat 12 hours before the procedure. So no food for me after midnight (what am I, a gremlin?).

     Accordingly, you have a starving neutropenic anemic patient that is just recovering from a fever and complete lack of sleep. That is my explanation for my decrepit state today. AFter the 2nd transfusion: feeling much better. After no sleep and no food: feeling not so good.
     To articulate, I recall lying on the hospital bed. My back was killing me, so I repositioned myself so that I was sitting upright. That act alone raised my pulse to 120, gave me an insta-headache (due to lack of oxygen to brain), broke a sweat, and caused me to wheeze rapidly for 5 minutes or so.
     Yes, it was ridiculous! I had to take 3 breaks on the way to my procedure and I was pushing myself so hard that I got lost. Barbara commented that I wasn't thinking straight due to lack of oxygen. From that point on, I was so tired I was docile. You could have said that Palin was smarter than Einstein and I probably would've nodded noncommittally.

     The procedure itself was much better than last time. They couldn't figure out why I had catheter pain and defective blood return -- the x-rays all looked perfect. Regardless, the best course of action was decided: remove the "defective" catheter and place a new one on the other side of the chest.
     So that's what they did.

     Also, I made sure to articulate that lots of pain was not acceptable. They want to distinguish between sharp pain and pulling/pushing. For some reason, they believe that "dull" pain associated with pushing/pulling did not exist -- that the mind somehow interpreted this weird pushing feeling as pain or something. This was told to me by several nurses and the doctor, so I took it seriously. I remember sitting there on the table saying, "Yup that's pain. It's a dull pain, and I know you're pushing/pulling, but it's still pain. Yup, that hurts. And I'm trying to be especially objective here." Or some such.
     Still, everything went wonderfully. In fact, the catheter was placed on the right side of my chest with little pain at all. Removing the previous catheter... that's where extra time was spent. Something was wrong about that side; maybe it's because the big tumor is there... or my veins are sensitive on that side or something. Who knows.
     And the nurses were crazy. They were all female jokesters -- casually engaging in banter while singing along to their Mo'town CD. I recall on several occasions them saying something like: "Glad you probably wont remember this; I'd hate to see the look on your mom's face when you tell her that you were cut up by a bunch of crazy dancin' nurses." I assured them that I would remember everything; they didn't believe me.
     At one point, the doctor asked the nurse "how is he doing?" (The doctor can't see my head because a big blue sheet is draped over it). She replied, "Wow, he's actually crying!" I heard the doctor, startled, say "what?!?" And I said, "Hey, I'm not crying!" The nurse smiled.
     At another point, they tried to get me to sing along with a Mo'town song. I told them: "You haven't given me nearly enough drugs to get me to do that!" They laughed and said, "Is that a challenge?" Flatly, I replied, "Yes." Then I pointed out the ethics of making a drugged patient entertain the nurses.


     After the procedure, I got a call from the apheresis nurse: "You've been having lots of bone pain, right?"
     "How did you know?"
     "Your white blood count went from 1 to 12 in a single day; your marrow has been working overtime."

     So, yay! I get apheresis tomorrow! Naturally, they want us there at 7:30am. So I'll have to get up at 5 or so. I better get some sleep.