adminCatherine Murombedzi
SPENDING a day with a friend receiving chemotherapy for breast cancer opened my eyes. Spotting a bald head she looked stunning. “You look stunning with a bald head,” I told my friend who replies chuckling: “Some people remark ambuya mamudhinhiwe chaiye kurova zuda” (madam you are now a diehard spotting a bald head) and when I tell them that my hair fell off because of chemotherapy they feel bad and apologise, but I laugh and say it is okay,” remarked my cheerful friend who said she now has a different perspective to life. She is thankful for the gift of life. She said she scratched her head one afternoon at work and was shocked to have a handful of hair in her palm.
“I had been through one chemotherapy session. I knew my hair would fail, but I imagined it failing off as I combed, but alas that was not so. I was at work and scratched my hair, only to find my palm full of hair. I touched the spot, it was clean shaven. I asked for a doek from a workmate who keeps one in her bag and off I went to the barber,” she said.
Her workmates only got to know what she was going through at that stage.
The next step is routine at any doctor.
My friend filled in the forms, handed over the medication she had brought and we were shown a vacant room which would be our ‘home’ for five hours. “Feel at home and if you need anything, ring the bell I am at your service,” said the male nurse.
My friend informed me that it takes her two hours to get the medication as the pharmacy checks for authorisation with the medical aid. At times she fails to get all the medication at one pharmacy and goes to the next pharmacy which accepts her medical insurance. “Getting cleared to buy the medication is taxing and failing to get all under one roof is even stressful. Today, I failed to get one of the drugs and that has a bearing on my treatment success.”
“Why don’t you get the medications a day or so earlier and ensure you have all?” I asked. “The medication is sensitive and has to be kept in a pharmacy under correct conditions. I usually enquire a day or two before and am told it is available, only to find they have run out on my treatment day. The medication is very expensive and I pay for short falls.”
Eish, I shudder to think what is the use of medical insurance if one fails to get medication. “Cathy, if my medical aid was acceptable in all pharmacies it would be a different story, however, it is not, I have to go to their pharmacy and a few that accept it,” she informed me. I have been in hospital when giving birth only and I now feel what my pal is going through. I have visited friends and family admitted in hospital.
I used to accompany my father to Parirenyatwa Hospital for radio therapy. For a year that became routine. He survived cancer.
Now seated in a neat comfy room at an oncologist centre my friend has three drips to take in. One at a time and that is a day’s drip drip drip as the flow drops. Watching the drip can be stressful as watching the grass grow. Cheerfully my friend says: “Hey, thanks for coming, you do not know what the support means. The last session I was alone and serious thoughts blocked my thinking. I concentrated on seeing each drop fall, but today we laugh and talk of good old days in school. Be blessed.”
I told her that she is a fighter and will survive and am happy to have known her for over 30 years. A movie is showing on the plasma in the room and she complained that there was too much violence.
She said the last time creepy snakes were showing and it affected her. Her blood pressure rose dramatically and could not be controlled for a week despite of her being on hypertension medication.
I ask her if she preferred comedy and she said:”Oh yes, laughter is the best medicine.”
I selected on the menu and find a comedy that gave us a hearty laugh. Her blood pressure was checked and we were told it was slightly on the high side. She was given something to lower it. It was checked again before commencing treatment.
The nurse took a file to the doctor who advised that a second drug had to be added if the current one was not controlling the blood pressure. My friend told the nurse that the said drug gave her headaches and had her eyes itchy and red as pepper.
The nurse took the file back to the doctor who wrote a note to be taken to my friend’s physician.The blood pressure was rechecked and was said to be manageable and treatment commenced.
A saline drip was inserted in her left wrist and drops for an hour. Three more smaller drips not visible because they were in khaki envelopes hang waiting for their turn to flow.
My friend asked why those were not visible. “Why are those not visible yet the saline one was?” The nurse answered informatively. “The medication is highly sensitive hence has to be covered, “ he said.
So now to the smaller drip and drip drip drops the orange fluid. An hour and 10 minutes it stopped dripping and it was time for the last medication to flow. In between another drip was inserted the saline flush which runs for 15 minutes. We were now in the last sensitive drip and the nurse said that could be through in an hour and 15 minutes.
By now national geographic was showing the king of the jungle. Animal world is captivating and we watched in silence.
The nurse brought a bowl and said the last medication could be nauseating.
Drip drip drip the covered drip falls.
An hour and 15 minutes later my friend was done for the day. Her next session would be in 21 days. In five days’ time, she returns to the centre for a jab to boost her white blood cells since chemotherapy destroys them. After 10 days she goes for blood tests to check a host of health issues. White blood cells, amount of cancer in the blood and treatment success. The nurse made a final check on the blood pressure and my friend was through with chemotherapy.
“Your blood pressure is high again. Blood pressure is a silent killer. It is more dangerous when compared to the cancer we are treating. With high blood pressure if a vein bursts in the head you haemorrhage and it is fatal. Please see your doctor as soon as possible,” he advised.
I ask to have my blood pressure checked and he obliged. “Madam, are you on medication for high blood pressure control?” he asked. I told him that I have been on medication for six years. “Do you have regular checks? “ he further asked.
“I do and that is my normal range 190/100” 180/100.” He advised that I have it monitored daily for a week. He also advised me to go back to my doctor since he sensed treatment failure. The visit ended with me getting free health advice.
“Oh Cathy, you do not know what having you around means. I will surely make it because there are people who still care like you,” said my friend.
My friend said her daughter would be on school holiday during her next session so she would have company. She said her workmates were very supportive.
“My workmates are supportive and put me to task why I had not told them when I went for the operation. It took me time to accept my situation after I was told that I had breast cancer. It was invasive and I needed to have the breast removed urgently. I needed a second opinion and went to South Africa where the news remained the same. I hesitated to go for the operation. That is when you phoned in November asking why I was not on Facebook and WhatsApp. I was taking an introspection to my life and in prayers retreat. By the time I told you I was going for an operation, I had known for three months, but for the greater part I was in denial. For a year a lump so tiny like sand grain was growing in my breast, but hey I wished it away until I lost an aunt to cancer aged 50. That changed my attitude and I went for a mammogram. I was not shocked with the results because I had felt the lump grow,” she said.
“My aunt had a lump taken out, went for chemo and was cleared. Four years later she got ill and she was told the cancer had spread. She died shortly so I told my doctor that I was not taking chances I was having the breast removed. So with you telling me that Thokozani Khupe is a breast cancer survivor, your dad fought prostate cancer and survived, I am now convinced to be counted among the survivors. Do you know where I can meet Thokozani Khupe?”
I told her that she now has a cancer foundation and she can go to Parliament Building and meet her.
Thokozani Khupe former Deputy Premier in the Inclusive Government is passionate on cancer treatment and would like a Zimbabwe where medication is available.
I told her that my friend’s daughter had a limb amputated because of cancer five years ago and today was in Form Four.
Oh, the girl is an inspiration, she visits Parirenyatwa Hospital children’s ward to speak to children undergoing cancer treatment and inspires them. She now is involved with KidzCan which gives children a stepping stone.
I could write a whole book on her. A straight ‘A’ pupil she wants to study medicine and specialise in cancer treatment.
My friend was chaffed. She gave me a bear hug when we left the oncology rooms.
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