Chemo Pump

Here it is.
My pump.
My pump, my pump, my pump
Check it out!

Notice how it looks like a baby bottle. Oh please, don't mix it up with the baby bottle. That is not going to end well.

This is my favourite show and tell, but we're going have to cover the general idea of chemo first.

When you are put on a chemo regime you get a cocktail of drugs mixed specially for your specific cancerous situation. I am on a regime called FOLFIRINOX (always in CAPS because it's so toxic).

FOLFIRINOX is a combination of 4 different drugs and some other chemo bits and bobs like steroids, anti-sickness stuff, glucose and a really hurty anti-diarrhoea jab. So every 2 weeks it's off to the Royal Berkshire hospital for chemo day. I've been allocated 6 cycles initially and I've done 5. After that some boffins will think what to do next. I'm guessing it's going to be more FOLFIRINOX.. There they deliver everything except one of the chemo drugs via a drip.The whole thing takes about 5 hours with a bit of luck.

The stuff in the pump is called fluorouracil though I much prefer its other name 5FU. This is special because it takes 46 hours to go in. Rather than leaving you sitting in the ward for 2 days they put it in a pump and you take it home.

I know! It's amazing! If you are the show-off type you can go to the shops and tell strangers "Look! I'm chemo-ing as we speak".

I am so impressed by the design of this I'm a chemo-pump bore. Apparently in the old days chemo-pumps had to have batteries.Till some genius worked out if you blow up a thick balloon just right it will come out at the right rate. 46 hours to the minute. Well, not to the minute but close. And the playfulness of colouring the top pink.

The tube coming out the top goes through your clothes and attaches to the PICC line in your arm. More of the PICC line later, but it's a semi-permanent route to a main vein in your chest.

So you have to carry your baby bottle around for two days. In practice, this is much less of a drag than it sounds. They give you a funky little bum bag to put it in. At night, you rearrange it to come out the top of your clothes and put it under the pillow. The main hazard is tossing and turning in the same direction. This may strangle you  gently. Also it's possible to get out of bed forgetting that you're not carrying it. Then it falls to the floor with a slightly sickening tug on your PICC line. The PICC line can take it though.

After 2 days a district nurse will come and disconnect it, and chuck it in a huge scary bin marked Infectious Substances.

Here's a big tip for cancer newbies, though hopefully it will be better where you live. I live in Reading, UK.

The first time you have chemo you get babied and the chemo ward arrange the district nurse for you. She turns up bright as a button Friday 3pm and looks shocked at the state of your house. Don't worry she'll get over it.

The second time you're supposed to arrange it all by yourself but nobody has told you this. They didn't give you any phone numbers or clue. The first thing you notice is that your magic nurse hasn't turned up and it's 6pm.

This ends in a crazy game of ringing the hospital and being transferred and not being rung back and then being told off for not following procedure and ends with a cross and officious nurse at 11:30pm coming in and opens with "Who smokes? Does your dog bite? I don't like dogs?".

There are lots of secret procedures in Cancer Town and I've been told off loads of times for violating them. It's a bit like starting a new job or joining the Freemasons.


As an exercise in humility, I am including this deeply unflattering photo of me sporting my chemo-pump. Hopefully my inner beauty is somehow suggested.

All the best
Helen