Day 5 - How Many Times for the IV?

July 17

When I was six, I had a wee trauma related to getting an IV. Without going into the details, that is one of those unconscious things that has never left me.

After radiation, I went for my second chemo. All set. First one was smooth as silk. Here we go! The nurse could not get the IV in the vein. She went and got the nurse from last week and she tried the same spot on the other arm. Fail. Now I have a barf bag at the ready and I'm sweating. A third nurse comes and tries the back of my right hand. Fail. At that point I told them to get out of my way because I had to get up and move around to feel normal. They said I was white and might pass out. I assured them that would not happen. I got up and moved around trying to convince myself that I was being stupid and a wimp. With my head bullied into a "better" place, nurse three made attempt 4 in the back of my left hand. After some very gross wriggling, it was in.

Because my appointment was late in the day, there was some urgency in getting the 2.5 hour IV process going. There was the added stress of potentially missing a chemo, the second in a line of six. The doctor said that could significantly reduce the chance of an overall good outcome. How stressed am I at this point?

Oh, I didn't mention that they have to set up a tray of sterile instruments for each attempt. That's a good 7 or 8 minutes every time.

Oh, I didn't mention that the labs they do before they start chemo have to look they way they want or chemo might not happen. My potassium was 0.1 of a point high. Yes, 0.1. Red flagged by the system. They had to call the chemo doctor at the other location. He was busy. They called the nurse. She was busy. Clock is ticking. Oh, and this was before attempt number one for the IV. Finally they got an internal message saying to go ahead (and then the poking chaos began).

Oh, I didn't mention that the nurses all said my veins were easy to see and find. There was no issue with my hydration or having tiny, hiding veins. They just couldn't quite hit the mark. They apologized and said they were frustrated with themselves. I'd done nothing wrong.

I assured everyone I don't question their competence. I was just at the end of the former trauma, current stress load.

My appointment would have ended at 4:30pm. I left at 6pm (a full half an hour beyond when they were supposed to close up the shop).

Physically I am fine (still). Yesterday's process, however....! Can you say fuck? This is my blog so I sure as fuck can!!!