First off all because the last couple of months have been so hard, second, it's been a while since it happened but I just couldn't face it writing about it...or maybe I was just still too weak as well...it's been hard tiping with very shaky hands and very weak watery eyes from exhaustion.
After Christmas and New Years, I still didn't get any better...in fact I got even worse. I didn't think that was possible, but it was.
Early January I was down to 49kg.
So weak.
No muscles.
Asleep all day.
So nauseous.
Couldn't eat.
Couldn't drink.
Constant vomiting.
My oncologist was wheighing up if he needed to get me into a palliative hospital ward.
He decided to try and IV feed my over night at home first.
We started on a Thursday night.
The nurse came to hook me up to the pump.
It went through my port.
The first night they just did a trial run with a quarter of the usual amount.
It runs very slowly over a 15hour period.
The first night was ok.
The second night was not.
It was a Friday night.
After about two hours, I started getting back pain.
That same pain in my muscle I was taking the morphin for.
That cramping, excruciating, breath taking pain.
It got worse.
And worse.
I started to turn all red.
Burning from the inside.
But no temperature.
We called the emergency number.
My doctor wasn't on call.
We told the doctor on call the only reason for this could be the IV feeding.
She declined.
She told us to take more morphin.
It didn't help.
We called again.
She told us to take more morphin.
It didn't help.
We called again.
She still told us to take more morphin.
It did not help.
We did not call again!
That night we thought I was dying.
That night I wanted to die.
I was ready to go, the pain was too much to handle, I was ready to be free.
I took morphin every 30min. And didn't feel any of it. I took as much as I usually take in a week. Nothing!
When the nurse came in the morning to unhook me from the feeding pump, she was pretty concerned.
An hour later the morphin started to kick in.
I was in heaven. So high. Flying. Relieved. Light. Free. Singing (Happy from Pharrel Williams...I know. Funny. But I'm not kidding! That's what I was singing in my head)
I was spaced out all day.
That night the nurse said she reckons the food might have blocked the morphin as both substances go through the liver. That it was just plain too much for it to handle food and morphin at the same time.
She started the pump but explained how to turn it off and how to flush my port.
Two hours later it all started again.
We emediatly stopped it.
It took another couple of hours until the morphin started to work again.
Since then I didn't have any more IV feeding. No one ever really found out what happened.
All I know is, it was the worse night of my life. But I survived.
My oncologist started me on cortisone after. The last resort to tackle my nausea.
And it WORKS!
Finally! I can eat! I am not sick! I am not vomiting! And I am actually really hungry!
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