25 November 2009
The Doc Called
HCG = 99,000 — down twenty percent! (HCG is the tumor marker. It was 125,000 on 4 November. Normal levels are 10.) R is now less pregnant than before!
24 November 2009
Today, Today, Work While you May
Today for the second day in a row R went in to the office for a few hours for work. Today all hair = still there. Today we went in to the doc to get an outpatient infusion of bleomycin. R got bloodwork done, too. They have a specialized, speedy machine for chemo work that does counts (of platelets and red and white blood cells) really fast, so we got the count results while we were still there.
* white blood cell counts were very low, so he got a booster shot;
* red blood cell counts are somewhat low, and when R’s digestion is back under control he’ll start using iron supplements;
* platelet counts are good.
Other bloodwork results will be back tomorrow.
R’s Aunt S and Uncle B visited before the appointment. Aunt S has a most soothing voice, a very peaceful cadence; it was lovely. She too has been through chemo.
23 November 2009
FAQ
When will you know if it (the treatment) is working?
There are a few indicators to look at — for example, it’s heartening that the fevers are lower and coughing is less constant and less bloody. They can also test R’s blood levels for HCG. But those are indications, not proofs. After all four rounds of chemo, R will get another CT scan and the surgeon will remove anything that is left (be it cancer or scar tissue). But the fact is, we will know we’ve really killed it only after chemo is complete and we see that the cancer isn’t. ever. coming. back!
23 November 2009
This is your brain on drugs
R was sent home with three anti-nausea drugs and one antibiotic. I write down all his doses on a white board: when he took one last and when he can take one next.
Anti-barf
The worst component of R’s nausea is anticipation anxiety. He’ll feel an obstruction in his airway or his throat, and he’ll panic. One of the anti-nausea drugs, Ativan, is specifically for anticipatory nausea and anxiety. Ativan was a miracle drug for R in the hospital, but it’s not working quite as awesomely at home.
a) It’s administered differently (pill, not IV).
b) It’s in a different cocktail, so the drug interactions are different. At the hospital he got a drug that he doesn’t get now that had a side effect of energizing him so it masked the somnolent side effects of Ativan.
So there’s a challenge between keeping food down and staying awake and alert. R’s doing good work to find that balance.
Anti-life
When the nurse de-accessed the portacath, the incision/scar on R’s right side looked a little iffy. Not infected, but almost infected. I politely insisted that she find the doctor, and he looked at it and prescribed an antibiotic. It’s a sulfa drug, and I’m horribly allergic to it. When I filled this Rx for R I conversationally mentioned my allergy to the pharmacist. She solemnly instructed me to “make sure you don’t take any.” I’ll make sure.
22 November 2009
Food, Glorious Food
R’s friend and co-worker brought us dinner tonight! Mmm. And my co-workers pitched in for a hearty handful of gift certificates to restaurants near our house so I can order food. We’re lucky. We have good peeps. Really good.
21 November 2009
Home
Round 1 of chemo is complete.
We were released from the hospital last night at 9:00. Getting ready for release was a day-long ordeal. In the morning they (“they” being the nurses under direction of the doc) started weaning R off of oxygen. In the afternoon after chemo they gave him diurectics to help his system dump all the fluids that they pumped into him all week to keep his kidneys healthy. (The fluids kept his kidneys safe but they got into his lungs and pooled in water weight at his ankles. Like most of treatment, there are tradeoffs.) They checked his vitals twice as much as usual.
The Red Pill, or R, Unplugged
The last step was unplugging R from the Matrix (what they call ‘de-accessing’ his portacath). R feels a little disoriented without his little beepy IV companion. He took it on a final lap around the oncology floor after he was unhooked.
20 November 2009
Coughing
Today pretty much everything R has coughed up was clear: just phlegm and phluid, no blood! And I am mending.
20 November 2009
Bleeping Beeping
R’s humor has been at full tilt. On Wednesday, the IV machine was especially tetchy; it would begin beeping at the slightest provocation. On Wednesday they gave him his first bleomycin, a chemo chemical he’ll get once a week every week until all four rounds of chemo are over. They gave him a test dose and carefully monitored for allergic reactions.
Nurse: Are you experiencing anything unusual with the bleomycin? Any side effects?
R, waving hands around as if disoriented: Yes, I’ve been hearing lots of loud beeping noises.
IV machine: *beep* *beep*
R: Ack! Nurse, the side effects are getting worse!
19 November 2009
Caretaker Caretaking
I am sick. This is awful. I feel terrible. A bad meal?
18 November 2009
Fortnight of Fever — Broken
For the last two weeks, since the onset of symptoms on Halloween, R has spiked a tumor fever of 100ºF or higher every day around 4:00pm. Some of those days before chemo he never managed a temperature below 99ºF, not even in the gentler relief of morning when his fevers abated. Yesterday (chemo round 1, day 2) his fever was down and today (round 1, day 3) it’s down even more. At 5:00pm, 8:00pm, and 10:00pm today his temperature was 97.4ºF. This is a good sign.
