Infusion without incident.
That’s how I would describe my first Tysabri treatment. It was not
terribly exciting, kind of boring actually. My nervousness was more eventful
then the actual infusion and its aftermath, or lack thereof.
We arrived to my appointment about 2-3 minutes late and had
to wait for some time before entering the Infusion Room. As my sweetie and I
sat, my stress and anxiety began to swell. Did we arrive too late? What if they
won’t take me now? What if I have to reschedule this infusion? This will force
me to reschedule all the subsequent appointments I already have booked because
they must be every 28 days. It would be great not to have to go through this infusion
because I am really nervous. But not nervous like I’m about to give a solo
performance at a concert but I am still nervous. And, how is Tysabri pronounced
anyway? I’ve heard it at least three different ways. TIE-SA-BREE, TEE-SAH-BREE,
TE-SAY-BREE? TIE-SAY-BREE? TEE-SAY-BREE?
Christine Germans?!, a voice called out, interrupting my
neurosis. Yes! We stood and grabbed our belongings which for me consisted of a 20-pound
tote filled with my laptop, Kindle, notebook, power cords, cell phone, camera, wallet,
papers. You know, the type of stuff one needs to pass the time during an
infusion. First infusion?, asked Nurse Jackie (true story) as we walked towards
the Infusion Room from the Waiting Room. Yes, I replied. As we entered through
the Infusion Room doorway Nurse AJ handed me the Tysabri booklet. Read the pamphlet,
she demanded but in a nice, nurturing yet this is a serious situation sort of
way. Okay!
 |
| Read the pamphlet! |
 |
| Nurse AJ and Nurse Jackie taking care of me |
The Infusion Room was not very exciting. The décor consisted
of a nurse’s station, about six or seven infusion lounge chairs and a bunch of
IV stands. Not much else. I remember the floor was nice. Laminate wood
flooring. Homey touch.
We walked over to my chair, my relaxing spot for the next two
hours. Nurse Jackie instructed me to read the Please Don’t Sue Tysabri card
while she gathered up the gear for my infusion. I hopped in the chair while
Nurse AJ got me warm blankets and pillows. This will be very relaxing. Cozy, I
thought, as I stretched out and cuddled up.
Lidacaine?, asked Nurse Jackie as she prepped my forearm for
the IV. Huh? What’s that?, I asked,
absolutely clueless about IVs because I’ve never had one before except for
outpatient surgery over 15 years ago. That was way too long ago and my MS brain
erased that experience right out of my memory bank. Lidacaine, explained my
sweetie and Nurse Jackie, is to numb the area to prep for inserting the IV
needle. Hmmm. So, that would be two needles? I reasoned the pros and cons of an
additional pinch on my skin and decided that if I could handle daily injections
for nearly two years, I could handle a quick needle for the IV. No. Let’s go for it. Just one pinch please! And in went the needle…
Yikes. Okay. That hurt. But it was very short lived. By the
time I registered the pain of the IV needle it was all over. I didn’t even get
a chance to slow down my breathing and do some quick visualization exercises. Later
I came to realize this was indeed the worst part of the infusion.
Nurse Jackie hung up a bag on the coat rack next to me and
popped some tube into my IV. Is that it? Is that the Tysabri (te-SAY-bree)?, I
asked, not wanting to miss the moment of first contact because we brought a
video camera to capture everything. Saline first, she said, the pharmacist is
mixing the Tysabri (tie-SA-bree) in the other room. While the saline dripped
through, I chatted with my sweetie who sat right next to me. Eventually, Nurse
Jackie placed the Tysabri package on the table next to me. It’s neon yellow! I
observed quite loudly. No, that’s just the packaging Nurse Jackie informed me,
giggling. How embarrassing. Sorry, it’s my first time. It looks like some kind
of magic potion.
 |
| The magic potion |
After a few moments, Nurse Jackie hung up the Tysabri bag on
the IV rack and connected the tube to my IV. Tysabri (tie-SA-bree)? Do your
magic, I said. I expected Tysabri to announce itself as it dripped through my
veins. Here I come!, I imagined I’d hear. Yet I felt nothing so I tried to
relax into it.
 |
| tie-SA-bree |
No such luck. I was still distracted as I waited to feel
fire in my veins, pass out at some point along the way or maybe develop a
headache but nothing. It was all very uneventful. Yet, the seriousness didn’t
evade me when I looked up at the Tysabri bag. This is some crazy shit, I said out
loud. Who could have imagined that I’d be sitting in an infusion room getting
pumped with Tysabri because my initially prescribed MS drugs weren’t strong
enough to deal with those stupid lesions?!?!
All this in the first five minutes. This is going to be a
long two hours I thought to myself.
C
