Psychological warfare

View 27A window

Chemotherapy treatment is as much psychological warfare as it is physical warfare.  Yesterday Rory and I arrived at Starship at 8am.  You can now only access the building through the main entrance (unfortunately beside ED) because everything else is closed.  On 27A Rory was directed to a bed, and I took a chair, by the window in the day stay room.  We sat there 6.5 hours.  It is hard to pass that kind of time in one spot.  It is a challenge in patience.  Rory was connected to IV fluids which ran 6.5 hours.  A certain level of urine output is required before chemo can be given.  There isn’t much privacy, he pees into bottles behind a curtain. Rory’s heart rate was elevated all day.  A blood test showed his platelets were 68 but his haemoglobin had dropped to 73.  A decision was made to give the methotrexate at 3pm followed by a transfusion of red blood cells.  We were moved across to room 2 on the ward (27B) at 3.45pm.  It is our least favourite room.  It faces inward so there is no view or natural light, and no toilet which is hard with Rory’s mobility issues.  The chemotherapy finished at 7pm and then there was a delay receiving the red blood cells so the transfusion ran until midnight.  The nurses were in almost continuously.  At 3am the pump and IV line started malfunctioning.  By 5am Rory was upset and angry telling the nurses to leave him alone because he was tired.  It is made more difficult at night because he is deaf.  At 5.30am the uridome failed and I had to change the sheets.  Nights are very disruptive and very disorienting.  For Rory it is even worse as he feels like rubbish and he is the one being poked and prodded. 

Sean and Colt spent Wednesday in the Waldorf.  Sean and I will swap shifts later this morning.  Thankfully we got out for a walk as a family on Tuesday afternoon up Mt Eden.  Sean was able to take Colt out again yesterday to blow off some steam.