There’s No Routine In Cancer Land | Apr 2021

Let’s do a little time travel.

Monday morning, yesterday, started bright and early with radiation. Here’s a picture I took of my cool machine:

IMRT machine

I slide onto the table and into the mold — the thing that looks like a pillow but isn’t, believe me– and the table moves back and up. Big flat pods emerge from the back of the machine– the dude is blocking the view– and the whole shebang revolves around me, above and below, shooting photon death rays at the Bad Boys with unparalleled precision. The folks who do this a very excited about how exact the treatment is. I marvel each day at the warmth and compassion they show. And humor. There’s a nice mountain scene above the table and someone has taped in several Sasquatches and other PNW delights.

That white blob in the background is Mt. St. Helen.

Chemo went well. Every chemo session– only five more!– will involve a preliminary weigh-in, bloodwork, and a check-in with Dr. Oncology or a PA from her team. Our complete home team was represented: Mark in the office, Pat and Ruth on Zoom. We’re getting to be pretty good at the Zoom- doctor thing, and I think the docs may be getting used us coming to visits en masse. As I said to Dr. Oncology, there is no such thing as a private cancer in our family. A mention of recent bombings in Belfast led to a brief discussion of the changes in the city since the peace accord. Dr. Oncology was careful to keep neutral and positive, though we all know the tensions are still simmering away.

Then on to the infusion. Hard to complain  when you’re seated with a view like this. Of course, the premeds (to prevent any reaction to the chemo meds themselves) are also potent. Just as the nurse was connecting me to the chemo, I dozed off and didn’t wake up until she was disconnecting me. May that continue for each visit to come!

The in-house pharmacy delivered anti nausea meds to me chair side. Three more bottles to add to the collection of mouth rinses, over the counter tablets, and other meds. I need to make a routine to keep track of what to do when. There’s rinsing, swallowing practice, throat exercises….

A couple of things of note:

• Dr. Oncology says the more I can do of what I usually do, the better. Slowly I’m seeing that they are approaching this treatment as though it is indeed reasonable to think I will be cured. Interesting mind shift for me to go through– not the cured part, because I still don’t totally believe I even have cancer. But the notion of taking treatment in stride with daily life is not what I expected. So, I spent some time on my exercise bike this afternoon, then tried some strength training. My biggest achievement is definitely in the pushup department. I’m doing two sets off the wall, followed by a set pushing off from stairs. I’m up to 15 of those!
• Dr. Oncology was very pleased to read the report of the gene mutations. One of the mutations is common, which opens up treatment options if we need them, she said. That mutation is frequently seen in non-smoking women over the age of 60. (What is that about?) The other mutation is not common. There are clinical trials going on, but no definitive data, so…too bad, so sad.
• I may or may not have a bunch of nausea as chemo progresses. Fingers crossed on that.
• I took home another big pile of paper: general instructions, like mouth care, fluids, when to call the office, and then the endless pages on side effects. What cracks me up is when you see one intervention– either of the two chemo drugs or radiation– causing constipation, and another causing diarrhea. Maybe some kind of equilibrium can be reached….