One of my favorite things in the world is not coughing. It is the small things. In my case, probably not so small.
I, thankfully, got a PICC placed yesterday as an outpatient. Two-weeks of potent, knock the socks off of you, drugs.
The infusion nurse asked me yesterday if I was nervous. I am nervous for all sorts of things up to that moment and then I am calm. I believe that once I truly decide and am present all the bullshit decisions of money, not working for 2 weeks (unpaid), speaking to my supervisors, how to handle the situation, and if I truly need to do this – I just want the PICC in and get the damn good drugs flowing through me. So – I said, “No.”
The nurse was great. She had a dry sense of humor, one I take to right off. She asks me which arm and I said right since I only have one good vein in my left arm and they need that for a blood draw.
I said, “If there is too much scar tissue, will you try the left before any further steps are taken?” The steps are going to radiology, a larger procedure.
“I don’t give up that easily,” she says.
Perfect.
She places the tourniquet on so tight my fingers tingle after a few minutes. A few shots of Novocain go in my right upper arm, she presses down, and watches the ultrasound machine. There is a tech there as well to help, a two-person procedure. Pressing, she punctures my arm, feeds the wire in and pulls it out quick leaving the plastic catheter inside. She is fast.
After applying the dressing and labeling it correctly the tech walks with me to get a chest x-ray to confirm the catheter is indeed in the correct place.
It is a thumbs up.
We go to the lab next. The lab tech has a swagger much different than mine. She has hips and a bit of an attitude. As she walks me back for my blood draw she says, “The jacket needs to come off.”
“Yes, I know.” While removing my sleeve I say, “I have a PICC in my right arm, so I have to be stuck in my left. I have one good vein in my left.”
She places the tourniquet quite tight but she finds it. Sticks me, I always look, and she gets the blood.
Fastest blood draw to date. Sometimes sassy is good. Personally I think a mix of personalities makes the world go around.
So how did I get here?
New seasonal allergies this year. A respiratory flu, a cold, squeezing of my lungs from the allergies, an asthma-affect, wheezing, inflammation, coughing, coughing, coughing, mucus, mucus, and more mucus. Once it gets trapped it multiplies. And once you start coughing your lungs get annoyed from the cough and more than-likely cough again creating this terrible cycle once more.
All took place the last 3-months.
Treatments include: heavy antibiotics, over-the-counter allergy meds, Flonase, an inhaler, prednisone as a last-ditch effort.
Even for a healthy persons lungs this would have been a lot.
I have an appointment with an allergist that works closely with my doctor and CF patients – I am hoping for allergy shots. In fact, I will probably request at some point here.
My lungs have sounded terrible for 3-months. And the coughing-vomiting effect has gotten so old. The multitude of tissues around the house – that alone, visually, tells me how I am doing.
The big, bad thing about all of this is I can get permanent damage from the bacteria. It is awful shit.
Thus – why I need the heavy stuff to destroy it.
When taking these meds it is tricky. I have 2 IV medications and one oral.
One, is 3-times a day (approx. 8 hours apart)
Second, one time a day (24 hours apart)
Third, twice a day (12 hours apart)
The second one has to be taken before the first. And the second one is very important. A nurse comes out and takes a blood sample to make sure I have the correct potency in my bloodstream. The nurse has to take it about 1/2 hour before my daily dose. The nurse will come out between the hours of 830-900am one week into my treatment.
I started my medication at 5pm the first day. So in order to get it to 900am by September 3rd I take it at 22 hours each day (not more or less than that because it will mess up the treatment). So I take it at 3pm the next day, 1pm, the next, 11am, and 9am to get the correct time for the nurse. Confused yet? It can be. The dose takes an hour to infuse.
One of many reasons I cannot work during this time period, adding on to the fact the nurses coming out to take labs, change my dressing, and then I usually get 2-3 deliveries of my medication over the course of the 2-weeks. The company has a schedule and of course I want my medication so I have to have open availability. Let alone, having a PICC you have to treat it kindly. A blood clot could form, so perhaps not doing anything too crazy could help it.
Did I mention I still have my regular treatments to do – as always?
The want, will to live.
The want to live without exhaustion.
The want to live like healthy people no matter how much energy it takes.
The want, will to feel good and not like crap. To feel blessed for each person, moment, coincidence that has allowed me to do this on an outpatient basis.
To say thank you for relief. To say thank you, period.
To believe and trust that life continues and someone still wants me here.