Chemo on board

Hit him like a bus - fast and hard. 

Day two of this round of treatment. And its getting quieter.  Today, Roger had not-horrible moments which were quickly followed by horrible moments.  Up down, up down. 

As the drill goes every time, we met with the oncologist first.  The purpose of the meetings are always to review lab results from the prior treatment as well as review how Roger did overall.  We shared with Dr. B how difficult the last round was.  Very few good days.    So we turned the conversation to this round of treatment and what course we should take.  I was lobbying for stopping the treatment.  Dr. B suggested postponing this next round for a few more days to allow Roger's system to try to recover more. So, you've got me pushing for STOP, Dr. B pushing for slow down, and Roger in the eye of the storm holding strong and saying "No.  I want to continue the treatment as originally prescribed....at least the number of doses. What about reducing the dosage again?"  So after further discussion with Dr. B, it was agreed we would reduce the most noxious chemo drug, oxalaplatin to 50% from the original prescribed dosage.  The other two chemo drugs, 5FU and Lucovorin (not positive on the spelling on the second one) will stay at 80%.  In theory, the recovery should be quicker.  In theory.  I can't say this has proven out as of this moment.  Still early in this round.  So, we'll have to wait and see. 

As usual, being at the infusion center is hugely impactful.  So many different emotions stir while there.  This time, despite being anxious about starting treatment, we sat and smiled.  The whole infusion center looked like Christmas puked all over it...in a nice way.  Every single square inch of the place was CHRISTMAS-FIED.  Turns out there was a decorating contest.  Each department had a theme.  The infusion area...ironically....was Candy Land.  Every where we turned there was some new creative expression dripping around the room.  So, funny!  And so, cute.  Our infusion nurses were all fired up about the contest because they lost last year.  Nothing like a little competition to stir up enthusiasm.  I think all the patients enjoyed the distraction.   As we waited for Dr. B in one of the internal waiting areas, an old gal comes shuffling into the room with a walking cane.  I noticed the cane and then did my best trying not to stare but finally had to give in to sheer curiosity.  She (or maybe her grumpy hubby who sat with her) had fitted her cane with a wicker basket suspended in the middle of the cane.  Decorating the edge of the basket were LED lights and evergreen garland.  Inside the basket, next to the batteries powering the lights, were scented candles.  She ditched her hubby in the waiting area with us and then shuffled off to deliver candles.  She soon returned with a lighter basket/cane only to tell her husband, "I need more candles".  With a gruff humpffff he reached down and picked up a plastic bag loaded down with more candles.  The basket was refilled, and off she shuffled again until she was called to meet with her doctor.  Honestly, pretty cute.

Once we finally made it into the infusion area to get the chemicals flowing, we had a couple sit opposite us. The male was apparently the patient.  Listening to them talking to the nurses and themselves, it became quickly apparent they were and have been on a similar journey to us only there journey was more recent.  He had some sort of surgery last year and then had chemo and radiation. Before they had sat down, I had said to Roger, we missed seeing the infusion center decorated because Roger had been in the hospital over Christmas two years prior.  This couple literally said the same thing...only it was last year.  Weird.  They were talking about the tumors he now has at C5...which we took to mean cervical 5...his spine.  It was soooo odd to watch them as though we were looking in a mirror (only they were younger). She was chipper and trying to be the silly cheerleader to keep spirits up.  He was being a trooper and going along with it despite obviously not feeling good & being in pain.   I don't know why it was so remarkable for me...I mean, duh?  There are going to be all kinds of experiences - many similar - when everyone has cancer.

We infused Roger with fluids today at home.  Roger has finally come to the conclusion he wants to infuse daily during treatment.  I've been pushing for this for months!!!  But that's ok, as long as we get to this point.  The fluids will obviously help keep him hydrated and stave off bad feelings from dehydration, but we are also hoping it helps flush his system.

Though Roger feels as though he has been hit by a bus, he wanted to take advantage of the fact the temperatures were relatively mild.  So, we went for a short walk this evening.  When he's up to walking we usually will walk 4-5 blocks.  Tonight we only made it around our block.  He said he just didn't have the energy to do more than that and was really starting to feel badly. So, we landed back at the house pretty quickly.  He has since nestled into the corner opposite me on the sofa.  As I look over, he has dozed off...and is in the familiar slumped over position with chin on his chest.  I've tried once to get him to recline or go to the recliner to position himself better. No such luck when he's in the chemo fog.  Its his way on his time.  And so, I patiently (or sometimes, not so patiently) sit nearby to make "recommendations"  Again, we're trying to prevent his neck from getting any more messed up.   

I think its time for us to shuffle off to bed.

G'night! Hugs, a