Chemo Treatment #1

(This one has all the marking of a long entry—you might want to pour a glass of wine or grab a beer.) I had my first chemo treatment today. It went much better than I expected it would. That's really what you tuned in to learn, right?

It almost didn't happen at all. I got a call yesterday from Dr. Bowker, my oncologist, and she hinted that perhaps chemo wasn't the right treatment option. It's a long, complicated story.

Winchester Hospital has a relationship with the Dana Farber Cancer Institute of Boston, and yesterday morning the two facilities' joint tumor board reviewed my case (again). The DF consensus was that chemo isn't appropriate, but the board didn't have all of the tests and pathology.

My oncologist wasn't present at the meeting. She called yesterday to let me know she was on the fence and that we'd discuss this morning. Dave and I talked with her for about 30 minutes and focused mostly on the ultimate benefit that adding chemo should add to my overall treatment plan. She offered to send me into DF for a second opinion, but I nixed that.

I've had plenty of additional opinions from the DF board all along. Between my oncologist, surgeon, and radiologist, they all initially supported adding chemo. Dr. Bowker was leaving the chemo decision to me. I asked her point blank for her opinion and she said the magic words: "If it was me, I'd be having chemo."

"Go find a needle," I said, "let's get started." So we did.

I spent the next three and a half hours in the company of more wonderful members of Winchester Hospital's oncology center. Kristi, my nurse, was as nice as she could be, filled with encouraging smiles and humor. Rose, my oncology teacher, checked in regularly, and countless others motored through, checking tubes, resetting delivery through the IV pump, and offering support.

And I met Jane, another chemo patient who was on her third treatment. She's the kind of person who isn't going to let a bothersome thing like breast cancer get in the way of living her life. She was kind enough to answer our questions and didn't seem to mind our intrusion in this very personal time in her life.

It was simple. No problems. The first hour on the IV was a saline solution for hydration. I took a series of pills (to fight nausea and inflammation), and then Kristi pushed three large syringes of Adriamycin into my line and hung a bag of Cytoxan. It was smooth all the way around.

I fought a little indigestion along the way and came away with a headache (but I started the session with a headache—most likely due to the frustrated weeping I did while we were trying to decide whether to move ahead with chemo). My face felt sunburned, too.

Dave stood by very step of the way and held up well. He looked sad watching Kristi push one of the syringes into my IV line. That made me sad. Wonderful guy that he is, when he went out in search of lunch he came back with a bottle of my favorite non-alcoholic beverage, strawberry-kiwi water.

When PJ got home she said I looked pale. Dave treated me to a Ritchie’s Watermelon Slush from the neighborhood ice cream truck. There is new house construction going on up the street and all I can smell is the scent of freshly cut wood.

Tomorrow morning I have to go to the health center for an injection of Neulasta, a drug that boosts white blood cell production. Jane (the other chemo patient) says it creates significant pain in her joints. Time will tell, right?

So now I've installed myself on the couch. I've taken my evening dose of anti-nausea med (two doses on Saturday and Sunday). I feel like I'm retaining fluid (you know, girls, that puffy feeling you get in your hands and feet—I can feel it in my arms and legs but it honestly doesn’t look puffy).

Kristi told me to be sure to drink 8 to 10 glasses of water and I'm doing my best to get it down. I’ve also got the sensation that maybe I shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car, I feel out of step by a half. Nothing serious, I know I’ve got a lot of drugs in my system.

So, long and short of it, today went well. I understand it gets a little harder as we go along, so we'll see how it goes. I'm on a three-week cycle, so my next treatment is October 12; I’ll be done the day after Thanksgiving.

Thanks for the good wishes, they mean everything to me. That's about it from here, what's new with you?