Hello again from the chemo throne.
I am still getting the chemo through an IV in my arm. They can’t consider a port in my chest until after they take a look at the blood clots again. And they can’t take a look at the blood clots until after my 4th treatment. So, its all about my arm veins for another couple of weeks.
The nurse who gave me the IV was an Army vet and he gave me a smooth stick under pressure – virtually painless. Painless needle sticks have become very important to me. Nurses trained to do triage while getting attacked by the Taliban = good IV.
But some bad news – I have to go back on the Neupogen. My white blood cell counts are low again. Which sucks. I’m not sure if this is a Neupogen roller coaster ride that I will be on the whole time. I’m hoping that some tweaks in my nutritional plan will help my WBC stay up. Eating less sugar and more natural stuff will be a small price to pay compared to the bone pain I get from the Neupogen.
In other news, the Benedryl is kicking in and I’m going into my loopy place. It hits me pretty hard and pretty quick. Takes the edge off of everything.
I’ve got 3 ‘pushes’ then the drip.
As always, the “Red Devil” (Adryomyacin) goes in first. The nurse tells me that this one is harsh. Can cause serious nausea. But it is a necessary chemical for me to get – very effective and sort of a ‘standard issue’ chemo drug. This is the one that is also hardest on the veins and is probably causing the phlebitis in my arms (blood clots). Little bastard. Pushpushpush.
Vinblastine next. Pushpushpush.
Then Bleomyacin, which is rough on my lungs. Looks like I missed my window to take up pipe smoking. Pushpushpush.
And finally the Dacarbazine, which is my least favorite because it causes me so much pain in my arm and hand. Drip…drip…drip…
Did you know that some chemo chemicals are purple? Or aqua? Me neither. They turn your pee different colors. I’m used to mine being orange. Turquoise would be interesting.
Did you know they had free granola bars while you’re getting treatment? Mmmm…
I am both amazed and depressed that this clinic is so ‘normal’. People come in, get their chemo, read magazines, socialize, nurses come and go and it feels a lot like a clubhouse to me. Part of the special treatment you get for being a member of the Cancer Club, I guess.
I find it a little depressing because this is a necessary part of life for so many people. Cancer treatment goes from something which is shocking and life changing to something along the lines of routine.
Beep beep beep. My IV keeps stopping.
Drip drip drip. The nurse fixes it.
Almost done. And a celebrity sighting – much to my mom and aunt’s glee – Bob Newhart. He’s older. His wife is here for chemo.
Quote of the day, which makes coming in for chemo worth it. My mom just said:
Home again. Shots for myself tomorrow. Rest. Sleep.
I’ll probably dream tonight that I am married to Susanne Pleschette, own a bed and breakfast and 3 guys named Daryl 2 guys named Daryl and 1 guy named Larry live next door.
Thanks for tuning in.