I had my second iron infusion yesterday morning, but it came with its own miracle. Early in the pre-dawn, we got slammed with rain and wind and I prayed that it would stay rainy...and NOT turn to snow. I was a bit afraid to head "up the hill" to Huntsman in a snow storm! As soon as I hit the button to have the garage door go up to take Janessa to school, she looked out into the world and said, "Wow." I looked and cringed. It was snowing--big, fat, fluffy snowflakes that were already sticking to the ground. My prayers become more urgent...please, please, please let me be able to get there and back home okay. I was especially nervous about slipping and sliding up the steep hills by the University of Utah. Scary stuff. First miracle--it was snowing less in Bountiful than it was at my house in North Salt Lake (the storm had already pretty much moved southward). Good. Driving into Salt Lake City, it was even less snowy; in fact, the sun peeked out through the clouds a few times. Great! And up by the university, I could actually turn off my windshield wipers and drive normal speeds and not have to worry about snow at all. Fantastic! Prayers answered. Thank you, Lord.
I've decided I like these early morning infusion trips, even if I don't like getting myself showered and "made up" for the day so early (I usually take Ness to school in my jammies and a big Rocky Mountain Fab jacket and my slippers with no makeup and wearing my glasses--adorable, huh?). For one thing, there are less people at Huntsman, so I pretty much get to choose which "pod" I get to sit in. If you've seen some of my photos, you'll notice I've been "right up front" to the windows where the view is the best and I'm sort of left alone. The nurses and techs are still fresh first thing in the morning and are so kind and caring (not that they aren't all the time, though...). It's quieter and seems more relaxed. So, I'm not complaining about these early times at all.
I've also learned (mostly from overhearing people ahead of me at the check-in desk) that when they ask if I have a port, I say, "Yes, but it needs to be accessed", which simply means I don't have the IV in it it yet and someone will have to "jab" me. It's an interesting process. The nurse comes to my pod with her wheel-around cart. We both have to wear masks to keep germs out of the port and off the actual IV. She feels for the port boundaries and how it's situated. I've already put numbing cream on the area at home, since it takes at least 30 minutes to take full effect, ao I have hardly been able to feel her touching my skin. Then she puts on her gloves, opens all the packages and "dumps" them on the sterile pad (so she only touches them once). She cleans off the area with a little sponge-type thing that has disinfectant in it right out of the package. She tells me to sit back and try to relax, since she doesn't want me to go forward when I see or feel the needle going into the port (so far, I haven't watched it go in--don't know if I ever will). She gets a larger gauge needle, feels for the middle of the port, and JABS the needle in. The first time, I felt it, but it was more of a hard pressure on an already tender spot. This second time was much easier and I wasn't even sure it was in until she pulled back and said, "Okay, you're all set and you can take off your mask now." I hope every time gets easier and easier. Pam at Dr. Grossmann's check-in desk has a port and she said she doesn't even put the numbing cream on any more. It's just old hat. Maybe someday...
Another interesting thing to me is that they give me two Tylenol before they access the port and let that get into my system for several minutes. Yesterday, I asked why and the nurse said that they don't want me suddenly getting a fever or something. Makes sense, but does it happen that much that now it's a standard deal? She also said, "At least you don't have to take Benedryl, too, like the chemo patients. It's just makes you sleepy all day." Yes, I am glad of that, especially at 8:00 in the morning! That's all I need is to have the whole day ahead of me and just want to sleep it away.
The iron infusion itself takes about an hour. The bag full of stuff is bright red, like blood (ugh). They attach it to the IV and I'm ready to go. I've taken my iPad both days and it's great to catch up on email and Facebook and Pinterest (sorry I pin so much, but I'm passing the time). Yesterday, I also took some things that needed to be labeled for my Scentsy Open House this weekend, so that was good to get done while I was sitting there. The nurses come back and check my vital signs a couple of times, too. They're always asking about my low blood pressure, so I guess I need to ask Dr. Beckstead if I need to continue on the same dose or go every other day or ???. I'm not dizzy or anything, but it does seem to concern some of the nurses.
The first day I was there, a sweet German family came in, with Grandpa German the one with the cancer. I felt so bad for him as they started to poke around for a good vein. How grateful I was for my port! Grandson German was the translater between the nurses and Grandpa, and Grandma German and Mother of Translater German were also there. At one point, Mother of Translator approached my little pod and asked, "I was just wondering if I could make you some tea." I thought it was so sweet of her and really wished that I liked herbal tea more, but I had to decline. She showed me the little packet she was holding and told me it was a delicious orange spice blend and "maybe you will want some later?" I said, maybe I would. It was so kind of her.
Yesterday, both nurses I had were also with me during the IPI infusions and they asked how things had gone. When I told them why I was getting the iron infusions now and that I was going to try to apply for a study/trial, they were both happy to hear that Dr. Grossmann was doing everything he could to help me be accepted into that study. Then, both of them asked about my daughter-in-law. I was shocked that they remembered me and Lindsey so well with all the people that pass through their lives, but it was very sweet. I always feel so loved there, and the fact is that they truly do care about each patient--and their families.
When I'm done, they unhook the IV, put a little Band-Aid on my port, and away I go. Yesterday, as the storm passed over Salt Lake, the skies were very dark and I could tell it was snowing outside. More prayers that I could make it safely down the hill, now that I was up. About 20 minutes before I was ready to go, the skies got brighter, the snow seemed to stop, and I was traveling on fairly dry roads all the way home. Another miracle! So happy for these little tender mercies that mean so much to me. The nurse asked when I would be back and when I told her Saturday morning, she said, "Wow, they have you on the fast track, don't they?" Yes, and I'm grateful. I do feel better, even if it's not the shot of adrenaline like I was hoping. But I can just feel my blood cells lapping up the iron! Plus, the pancreatic enzyme prescription that Dr. Scaife ordered for me has been helping, too. No terrible diarrhea since I started taking it! I'm even starting to think I could venture out to the temple one of these days and not have to worry about an attack. It makes me happy just to think about it. Lots of good going on. I like it.
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