The Neupogen worked like a champ, and my blood counts were back in the acceptable range. The first nurse poked and prodded in a couple of places and decided that someone with more experience could perhaps do a better job. She was right, sort of. The second nurse found a vein on the second try, and I was finished in an hour.
Just to keep things in the proper perspective, the guy in the chair next to me was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which has a one to two percent survival rate. I think of people like him when I feel like Joe Btfsplk. I don’t really have it so bad.
Only three sessions to go.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Keeping Score? Last Week 3, Zach 0
Last week’s blood count wasn’t entirely unexpected--my oncologist says few patients make it through chemo without a “time-out.” What was unexpected--to me--was the fatigue and nausea that followed me around like the black cloud above Joe Btfsplk.
The nausea (and granted, I wasn’t taking my anti-nausea pills because things were manageable up to that point) started at work. Within seconds of the first wave, I was on my hands and knees, vomiting into a trash can, and praying a client wouldn’t walk in the door. I left work and went to bed, where I stayed the rest of the day and most of the next.
The fatigue snuck up more subtly. I find myself going to bed earlier and earlier, sometimes by 6pm. I get up later and later. By the end of the day I’m practically worthless at work, and I take a nap as soon as I get home.
The co-pay for three Neupogen injections turned out to be $2040 for the week. If we didn’t have insurance, it would have been over $11,000.
The nausea (and granted, I wasn’t taking my anti-nausea pills because things were manageable up to that point) started at work. Within seconds of the first wave, I was on my hands and knees, vomiting into a trash can, and praying a client wouldn’t walk in the door. I left work and went to bed, where I stayed the rest of the day and most of the next.
The fatigue snuck up more subtly. I find myself going to bed earlier and earlier, sometimes by 6pm. I get up later and later. By the end of the day I’m practically worthless at work, and I take a nap as soon as I get home.
The co-pay for three Neupogen injections turned out to be $2040 for the week. If we didn’t have insurance, it would have been over $11,000.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Not a good week at all...
This week just kicked me all around the block.
My chemo session was canceled because my blood count had dropped below the minimum. I have to take a very expensive drug now to get the platelet count back up; how expensive you ask? Our co-pay is $2000 a week. I'm still reeling, and I have to take this drug for five weeks more!
I'll go into more details as soon as the holidays are over. We're going camping tomorrow. Screw cancer.
My chemo session was canceled because my blood count had dropped below the minimum. I have to take a very expensive drug now to get the platelet count back up; how expensive you ask? Our co-pay is $2000 a week. I'm still reeling, and I have to take this drug for five weeks more!
I'll go into more details as soon as the holidays are over. We're going camping tomorrow. Screw cancer.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Session One--Round Two
Yesterday was a long session, 10am to 4:30pm.
But, unlike last cispatin-round, no nausea so far. And the nurse found a vein the first poke.
My blood count was a little iffy whether or not to go forward with the chemo that day, but the oncologist felt that staying on schedule was more important than the low numbers, especially since I felt pretty good.
One thought I had after completing the first round fairly unscathed is that some of the chemo patients I've met become so obsessively focused on analyzing their feelings and body-state in real time that they give undue weight to things they'd otherwise just shrug off. Woody Allen once said, "More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly." I see that a lot with some cancer patients.
There are many legitimate issues I've been going through--fatigue, diarrhea, constipation, some nausea--but when I don't focus on it, when I don't let it occupy more of my attention that it requires--it's easier to get through the unpleasant times.
Compared to what others are going through, dialysis patients for example (three times a week, three hours a session for the rest of their lives), I don't think I have it so bad. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Five more treatments and I'm through.
Besides, my wife thinks I look okay bald.
But, unlike last cispatin-round, no nausea so far. And the nurse found a vein the first poke.
My blood count was a little iffy whether or not to go forward with the chemo that day, but the oncologist felt that staying on schedule was more important than the low numbers, especially since I felt pretty good.
One thought I had after completing the first round fairly unscathed is that some of the chemo patients I've met become so obsessively focused on analyzing their feelings and body-state in real time that they give undue weight to things they'd otherwise just shrug off. Woody Allen once said, "More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly." I see that a lot with some cancer patients.
There are many legitimate issues I've been going through--fatigue, diarrhea, constipation, some nausea--but when I don't focus on it, when I don't let it occupy more of my attention that it requires--it's easier to get through the unpleasant times.
Compared to what others are going through, dialysis patients for example (three times a week, three hours a session for the rest of their lives), I don't think I have it so bad. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Five more treatments and I'm through.
Besides, my wife thinks I look okay bald.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Final Hair Update
There's not a lot of updating to do about hair after you've shaved it all off.
I thought a buzz-cut might work, but instead of long hair falling out, all it accomplished was short hair falling out. Plus, I had a splotchy, uneven "chemo-head" that didn't look attractive or healthy. So my wife helped me shave it off.
In the space of less than a week, I went from a full head of hair to looking like I'm auditioning for the "King and I" at the Kettleman City "holiday spectacular" dinner-theater.
As they say, the show must go on!
I thought a buzz-cut might work, but instead of long hair falling out, all it accomplished was short hair falling out. Plus, I had a splotchy, uneven "chemo-head" that didn't look attractive or healthy. So my wife helped me shave it off.
In the space of less than a week, I went from a full head of hair to looking like I'm auditioning for the "King and I" at the Kettleman City "holiday spectacular" dinner-theater.
As they say, the show must go on!
Friday, November 03, 2006
Well, that was fast....
Despite what the oncologist told me, I lost my hair.
It fell out amazingly fast; start to finish was just a few days. A few very annoying days, since each morning I would wake up with a mouthful of hair.
On the bright side, my beard growth has slowed to about half of what it was. So what we're paying for the chemo we'll probably save in razor blades. No more trips to Costco for those outrageously expensive five-blade Gillette Fusions.
See? There can be an upside to almost anything.
It fell out amazingly fast; start to finish was just a few days. A few very annoying days, since each morning I would wake up with a mouthful of hair.
On the bright side, my beard growth has slowed to about half of what it was. So what we're paying for the chemo we'll probably save in razor blades. No more trips to Costco for those outrageously expensive five-blade Gillette Fusions.
See? There can be an upside to almost anything.
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