What happens on a chemo ward?

Friends have asked me what actually happens on a chemo ward. Given that this is exactly the kind of information I was seeking before I became a patient on the medical day unit at the Royal Marsden, I thought I'd write down my day on the ward.



First off, it is a ward filled with airline-style chairs - thankfully club class. Those having chemo sit in the chairs to have their treatment and although it often gets quite busy there is a level of privacy that is respected. Friends and relatives (one per person, please) are encouraged to come along because, frankly, it's a long and boring day.


My starts at 9.30am when I arrive to have my blood taken. I always cry when I have my blood taken as I find the whole day overwhelming - I'm no hero. Every session my tears manage to confuse the nurses, who worry they have hurt me or that I am phobic about blood. After I use my catch all phrase of 'I'm just feeling a bit emotional today' we all calm down.

I'm on a three-week cycle of chemo, so on Day 1 I will see the doctor, usually a different one each time, I saw the pharmacist once! He/she checks what side effects I've been experiencing, how I'm dealing with the chemo and let me know how I'm coping with the regime. On Day 8 I don't see the doctor, although I presume I could ask to, and Day 15 is my week off.


After this, I have a few hours free while they prepare the chemotherapy. I leave my mobile number with the receptionist and go up to the King's Road. I could go the other way to the V&A but it seems each week mindless shopping wins over culture. Why is that?


When rung by reception I return to the ward. Chemotherapy is delivered via a IV drip, over a specified time. Sometimes I have to submerge my arm in a bucket of hot water to bring up a vein - it all seems very medieval. And sometimes the chemotherapy makes my arm ache because it's kept in the fridge and is cold when it enters the vein, so the nurses wrap an electric pad around my forearm, which helps. It's quite normal, apparently.

I have two drugs, one takes an hour, the other an hour and a half. When I have both together (Day 8), sitting in the airline chair, it's like going on an extended trip nowhere. Endurance is the trick, like on any longhaul flight. So we all... just... wait... for our bags to empty. A tea trolley comes around (patients only) and a hobbies trolley with an increasingly fascinating array of turbans, but that's it.

For such a life changing medicine it's pretty dull really.