I started chemotherapy on Wednesday, September 23rd.  Dr. L. had performed the bone marrow biopsy the day before.  I have to say, that procedure was cake compared to the kidney biopsy I had a couple of years ago, and even that wasn’t all that bad.  I know how fortunate I am to be blessed with an extremely high pain threshold.  I also believe my nephrologist and Dr. L. are both exceedingly skillful, and that has to make a big difference.

At any rate, high pain threshold or not, the chemotherapy was horrific.  In the chemo unit, I had an immediate bad reaction to one of the drugs.  Three nurses came running, and they paged my oncologist and respiratory services.  They got that under control quickly and skillfully, but I ended up being at the clinic from 9:00 – 4:30.    At the end of the day, Dr. L. came to check on me again.  After she left, I said to Terry, in my rather groggy state, “I’m in love with my doctor. . .”

Then, we spent the night in the emergency department because after vomiting once per hour during the early evening, things picked up and I ended up vomiting every 15 minutes for 7 hours.  I broke blood vessels in my face and eyes, and had blood in my vomit.

The Day After Chemo

During each 15-minute cycle, I vomited, then had uncontrollable muscle spasms in my legs, then my breathing became faster as the nausea rose, until I vomited again.  I was sweating profusely throughout, and had elevated heart rate and blood pressure.  Thanks to the talented ER doc and nurses, the  vomiting was finally basically under control around 4:00 a.m.   Terry ended up teaching on 2 1/2 hours of sleep.  I am praying that Dr. L. will allow me to do my next treatment as an inpatient.  I cannot imagine going through that again if there are alternatives.

In addition, I don’t have a picc line yet (the first thing the ER nurse asked about), so when I woke up the next day, I had bruising and bandages on both hands, one wrist and the inside of both elbows.  They had trouble in the ER because I was so dehydrated my veins disappeared.  I also woke up with a very swollen face from all the broken blood vessels there.

Written September 20, 2009

I met my hematologist/medical oncologist Thursday morning.  Wow!  If I were cancer and I knew that she was going to be my foe, I would pack my bags and skedaddle post-haste.  (Let’s just hope my particular brand of lymphoma is equally sensible.)

Dr. L. is a force to be reckoned with, fighting mightily for her patients.  Don’t get me wrong — she is kind and patient and all the things you would hope for.  It’s just that she also radiates competence, intelligence and power.  She appears to have an over-abundance of energy and talent.  I feel like I have a super-hero in charge of my treatment.  How cool is that?!

Even before I met her, Dr. L. had referred me for this program, requested that test, etc.  She requested a myriad of tests to stage the cancer, get a base-line because one of the meds in my chemo regimen can be cardio-toxic, and generally get me ready to start chemo on Wednesday.

Unfortunately, all the various tests and scans are being done on an urgent basis.  That has led, rather precipitously, to the red tape blues.  It seems that while the cancer clinic is highly organized, some other parts of the hospital are not.  I have had appointment times moved with no notice, been sent on a wild goose chase all over the hospital when no one could figure out where I was supposed to be, been left in a waiting room for outrageously long because the receptionist neglected to enter my presence into the computer, etc., etc. ad nauseum.

To my knowledge, I have only one scan left, as well as the bone marrow biopsy that will be performed by Dr. L. herself.  I will be so happy to be done!  I am sure there will be tests and scans along the way to monitor my progress.  I am hoping the fact that they are not being requested urgently will make things a little more predictable.