Chemo +1

Well yesterday was long - but not unpleasant.

Everything went pretty much to schedule and to plan... I needed a break from the Rituxin at 100ml / hr, but a benedril shot fixed that and the rest of the infusion passed without incident and I got up to 300ml / hr without incident.

Had an M&M meets injection of orange goop vomitting spell toward the end of the day... never has vomit so closely related ad' - a whilrl, swirly, chocolate kaleidoscope of color.

Everything else was unremarkable.

Got home last night, slept well, took all the drugs suggested and feel good today... slightly strange, but by no means sick. Have walked the dog, picked up more drugs and checked football scores, brunch later... of course next couple of days will be the real test of how things are really going; worst comes at 3-5 days I'm told.

We shall see

Steve

Chemo day!

Looking at a long old day today. Standard chemo takes about an hour to administer... but the R part of CHOP R takes 5 hrs the first time.. infusion reactins are common and the slower they go the less likely I am to become a shivering wreck. Add in blood work and the all important Insurance Checks and you're looking at a 10 hr day.

Have loaded up the i-pod (Cyndi Lauper - The Body Acoustic). the DVD player (Deadwood Series One) and have my taking forever to read Roddy Doyle book with me (the one where the Irish guy comes to New York in the 20s) so I'm as ready as I think I can be... and looking forward to actually starting treatment.

September seems a long time ago - but that's when the cough started and when I had the first x-ray. Starting today means being finished end of July (and end of World Cup) meaning that I can start in the gym ahead of a September beach holiday. OK, maybe October (we'll head south) - besides September is the US Open and perfect, perfect weather.

Time to head off...

What Fresh hell is this?

So yesterday I had my first PET scan. Turn up a at the hospital, get injected with radioactive sugar, lay immobile for an hour as 'any movement, even turning the pages of a book could send the sugar to the muscles rather than the organs" and then wander through to get into another whirling donut machine.

'Do not move' warns Dr.24 year old. "No moving". He then proceeds to position me until I'm as uncomfortable as possible all the while muttering "must be still, still, still"

Finally I'm ready, he flips on the machine, gives me one more 'do not move' and turns to leave, flicking on the radio as he goes, arrrghhh. The radio is tuned to 'hip sway' FM... it's playing all the Latin music you know and all of music that drags the Latino out of you... and you can't move. At all.

40 minutes later the beat is now frenzied; I'm still, my arms are starting to go into a 'world's strongest man' shake and I'm pretending to to Finnish (anyone else used to love Janne Virtanen?) in a bid to both hold them still and resist the beat.

Machine chugs, splutters and spits me out and I'm free to leave. I try to capture the 'sense memories' so that I can help Dakota later but have visions of Sandra Bullock and give up. We'll shove Dakota in the machine... that oughta do it.

CAT Scan Thursday (hmmm, Barium) - will call and try to schedule chemo today; hoping for this Friday

A partner in crime?

Just heard that one of the guys I used to work with (my favorite Australian Darren) has just been admitted to hospital with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia... not the same disease as I have I know but close enough a cousin to make marriage a questionable option.

Hoping to trade tales of disappearing hairlines, stool softners, infusion reactions and survival with him very soon.