Adventure continues

Written early Thursday morning:

At first blush, Tuesday’s chemo went well and I went home feeling better than any of the other rounds.

I’d had a serious full-hour discussion with my oncologist before deciding to go ahead with chemo that day. He patiently and thoroughly explained his rationale for everything he was putting me through – and schmoozed me by saying he thought I had an awesome, realistic attitude. He also suggested we try eliminating dexamethasone – the steroid that keeps me from sleep and leaves me so hung over. With the new plan, I optimistically settled into my favorite chemo chair yet again.

All hell broke loose later that night.

By 11 p.m. I had shaking chills, 102.6 temperature, and itching from neck to toes that felt like I was covered in angry, biting ants. Needless to say, it was a long night with Greg making phone calls to the Cancer Center and waiting for call-backs from the oncologist on call who was apparently sleeping through his pages. At 3 a.m. we connected and headed for the ER.

After a few hours of head scratching by ER docs who quite likely dread having to see chemo patients, I was admitted to the cancer ward – primarily due to alarmingly low blood pressure, puzzlement about the fever, and suspicion of pneumonia. To me, however, the most pressing concern continued to be the god-awful itching!

Yesterday was a day of tests, IV antibiotics, and SIX different blood draws. Blood draws have become more and more difficult (and dreaded) as needles are limited to my right arm and I’m running out of veins that cooperate. My left arm’s not an option because lymph nodes have been removed.

All test results will be analyzed by my oncologist this morning – so nothing definitive until then. Of course I’ve heard hints of what may be going on, but I refuse to start worrying about any of them prematurely.

In retrospect, I regret accepting chemo round 5 – so round 6 is unlikely to happen. While there are apparently some chemo patients who weather this process without much ado, I am learning there are also plenty of us who give up. (This is something you don’t hear at the Cancer Center, but the cancer-ward nurses are refreshingly candid.)

And the beat goes on. La de da de da.