Had my fifth of six chemo treatments yesterday, and I am safely home and briefly sober. I am still allergic to the Taxotere, and as antidote they pump me full of Ativan, which stops the terrible muscle spasms, but also sends me flying. Apparently on the way home, I was hallucinating about how the hell we were going to get Julia to her soccer game. (Julia is actually in France at the moment, and there was no soccer game.) But as we drove through the construction area along Wisconsin Avenue, around the Bethesda Naval Hospital, I was quite sure we were supposed to be finding a soccer field in all that mess. Then I passed out again, which was for the good. I slept straight through from then—about 5pm—until 3am. Thought about washing the floors (that was just the steroids talking) but I thought better of it and went back to sleep. Now it’s 7am and I have a few good hours before the other nasty drugs from yesterday seriously kick in.
The treatment went okay. It was nearly imporssible for any of the nurses or the blood test guy to find a vein we haven’t ruined with these nasty drugs. I am all black and blue, and I look like I’ve been shooting heroin. They eventually got it done. But for my last treatment, in three weeks, I am going to have to go to Sibley Hospital first and get a temporary arm catheter put in so they can do what they need to do.
Otherwise, it was all good news. My oncologist was just happy with how the tumors have shrunk. “I have to tell you,” he said somberly, which scared me until he looked up at me and was SMILING, “you are just doing great!” Then he patted me on the shoulder—unheard of—“You’re doing great!” He was very happy.
Apparently, when this part of the treatment is over, I’m going to maybe join some exciting new studies where you try certain diabetes drugs, among other things, that have been found to reduce the risk of breast cancer. Brave new world!
No comments:
Post a Comment