Chemo, week 7
| Hair Situation | Very very patchy |
| Weight | Down 6 from normal |
| Symptoms | Fatigue, clumsiness, insomnia, absent-mindedness, and heartburn. And a partridge in a pear tree. |
Tuesday, 4/8/03: Eight treatments down, two to go. Things are really starting to move along. Today was my second (and last) Pentamidine treatment. The nurse didn’t offer me a lollipop this time, but I’d brought my own. I only took three Prednisone tablets, down from a high of 7, and in three days I can bid goodbye to Zofran (an anti-nausea drug). Dr. Ekstrand couldn’t find any swollen lymph nodes, even behind my clavicle. My white blood count was within the normal range (OK, so it was at the absolute lowest point of the normal range), but no matter how nicely I asked, I still have to have Neupogen shots this week.
We spent some time at today’s appointment talking about getting radiation started. It looks like my planning appointment will be in early May, and the treatments can start a few days later. I asked whether the PICC line will come out on the last day of chemo, and I have a choice. I’ll have blood drawn once a week during radiation, to check my red and white counts, so I could leave the line in to make drawing the blood easier. Or I could decide that it’s less convenient to deal with the shower sleeve every day (not to mention avoiding my short-sleeved shirts because the PICC line looks weird) than to have blood drawn three times the old-fashioned way. I think I’ll call the radiation nurse this week to ask whether there’s anything else they might want to do through a PICC line while I’m having radiation. Today, I’m leaning toward removing it ASAP. Is there an appropriate ceremony for removing one’s PICC line?
This week is another double-whammy treatment, so I’ll be back at Stanford tomorrow.
Thursday, 4/10/03:: One thing I forgot to mention about this week. The software release I’d been heading before I went on medical leave went out to customers on Monday. Wahoo!
(later that same day) Hey - check it out: Hodgkins in the comics!
Friday, 4/11/03: Chemo brain strikes again! This morning, I totally forgot to put the plastic sleeve over my PICC line before getting in the shower. So instead of whatever else Mom and I might have done this a.m., we were at Stanford getting my dressing changed. I think it’s a sign that I really want this PICC line gone.
On the plus side, I spoke to a nurse in the radiology department, and she said that they’d only need a PICC line for two things: the weekly blood draws, and to give me IV fluids if I get dehydrated. She said that Hodgkins patients rarely get dehydrated. I’m perfectly willing to keep drinking 2 liters per day if it means the PICC line comes out next week.
Saturday, 4/12/03: It really is getting closer to the end. Last night, I took my last Zofran (anti- nausea drug), and today was my last Prednisone. Tomorrow will be my last Prilosec, and my last Neupogen shot is Monday.
Monday, 4/14/03: Counting the hours? Who, me? Sheila says that the nurses in the infusion center can remove the PICC line tomorrow after my chemo (I’d thought that I’d need to go back to the nurse who inserted it). So if you hear “wahoo” noises at about 11:30 tomorrow morning, you’ll know why.
I’m spending today writing my thank-yous to the nurses, vaguely preparing for Passover (mostly looking at the freezer, thinking, “I wonder what in here is kosher for Passover?”, but in the spirit of the holiday I did clean out a cabinet), and planning our family vacation (July, somewhere warm).
(later the same day) Something I forgot to write about when it happened: during one of the bad heartburn episodes last week, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and absolutely couldn’t get comfortable. An hour later, when I’d tried Tums, extra Prilosec, sleeping sitting up, and not sleeping at all, I ran out to Safeway for some Maalox as a last resort. The cashier asked “And how are you today?” I’m thinking, “I’m here at 4:30 in the morning, with a sweatshirt over my pajamas, to buy some Maalox. How do you think I am???”