third chemo round unpacked

My trusty Subaru saved my life in 2020

First the Musings

Cancer is not the first time I have faced an existential threat. It is, however, the slowest and most constrained. I have my own life-made list, from birth forward, and outside of global warming and aging, most all other threats are quick and/or violent in theory and/or action. 

The baffling response to cancer is also slow and ironic, as its year-long spiral of toxic chemotherapies and radiation are measured to kill me from the inside out, or at least to bring me to the brink before pulling me back. In theory.

Too dark? I'm a call-it-as-I-see-it kind of guy, sometimes to my detriment. I can acknowledge the healing part of this process in terms of the the long-game result potentialities, and of course I remain hopeful for those positive, cancer-free outcomes. 

Day-to-day, it's more productive for me to embrace the fact that my body is working hard to process a bucket-dump of deadly toxins. It allows me to accept feeling terrible so many days in a row. Then I can go about the daily task of juggling care of those active side effects alongside some basic nutrition and pain management, all under a regular bloom of brain-fog (totally real) that makes me walk to the kitchen again for something....what was I doing? 

I'm grateful for the find-your-phone button on my smart watch. For banana-raspberry-blueberry-chocolate smoothies that can hide things like protein powder, greens, and electrolytes. For soft hoodies. For tissues with coconut lotion and aloe. For silk pillowcases so my hair won't hurt. The list is much longer, but on hard days, the simple, tangible things are most accessible under duress. These days, that's what I need.

Grateful for You

Your messages of support and care continue to bring me joy through this long, strange process. Thank you for every kindness and gift and the outpouring of love and support. 

Thank you for each donation to the Cancer Support Team funds—every dollar goes to the support of my care team, whether it is for a cup of coffee, a tank of gas, travel expenses, or another box of gloves or masks to protect the team. All of us—team included—are extremely grateful. 

Chemo Infusion Round #3

The Oncologist (my primary doctor and head of the Cancer Team) ordered several additions to my pre-meds infused before the deadly toxins for this round: two additional antihistamines, a steroid, and what is essentially the pharmacy form of Pepsid-AC. These additions address the elevated allergic reaction to the chemo infusion, and apparently the Pepsid is some kind of facilitator to the antihistamines. 

The Oncologist also proposed reducing one of the chemo drugs due to the number and extent of the side effects I am fielding each time. To her concerns, I heard myself (in an out-of-body-what-are-you-doing kind of space) counter-argue to keep all the chemo drugs at full dose. 

Of course I would love a reprieve, but long-run, I hope to never have to do this gig again. Odds are better if I get the full treatment now. At least that was the argument. 

The Oncologist agreed. So we proceeded. 

Infusion was uneventful. The worst thing that happened was that the big dose of Benadryl gave me restless legs, which made me squirrely in the infusion chair for that part. 

Halfway Through? Not Yet

I can't count halfway until I am through the weeks of side effects. Three out of six infusions complete—that's where I am for now. 

New Side Effect and The ER (again)

Do we need a new side effect every round? I didn't think so. This round, it was acid reflux. I updated my Side Effects post to add it there, rather than make a new chart every time. 

After 72 hours of unresolvable acid reflux, the consequence was dehydration, which triggered a sudden and rather dramatic hypotension event: BP drops, weak rapid pulse, sweaty, cold, shaking. Rick and Becca were worried I was going to lose consciousness or go into shock or both. So they packed me into the car, and we ended up in the ER again. 

This trip was similar to the last one. I was relegated to a wheelchair the whole time since I could not walk myself into the hospital. Rick protected my space, several times wheeling me to a different part of the ER to create a bubble of space around us as we were often the only ones masked. 

The ER nurses got fluids going on me sooner, which stabilized me sooner. But the overall visit still took 8 hours before we had bloodwork and a doctor saw me. I was released around 6 a.m. Rick got me home in bed and then left for work on zero hours of sleep. 

I had a Granix shot scheduled (to boost new white blood cells), and during my 1.5 hours of sleep, I had repetitive dreams about Becca trying to wake me up before she woke me up (for the 3rd time, she says). She was amazing and had a smoothie ready for me, and we totally made it to the infusion center on time for my shot, got back home, and then I slept until 1 p.m. Rick was able to wrap his day early and came home and slept all afternoon. Becca had dinner ready, and then this household went to bed early, all of us exhausted.

Second IV Fluids On Purpose

Two days after the dramatic ER visit, I went in for another  Granix shot and a scheduled boost of IV fluids. Initially, I thought I might not need more fluids, but my blood pressure was still pretty low, so we went ahead with fluids, and it was well worth the hour. Preemptively, The Oncologist has added two scheduled IV fluids orders to my first week of the next infusion cycle. Still working to keep me out of the ER.

You Can Help

Amazon Registry: I have created a registry list where you can purchase a thing from the list and it will ship direct to me: Hoffman Chemotherapy Support. Several people have urged me to offer it as an option to let people help. Please do not feel obligated. Amazon made me identify an "event," so I set it for the end of chemotherapy, hypothetically on Halloween. It feels like the right target. 

The Cancer Support Team Funds are still accepting donations. Message me or Rick for my Venmo or mailing address. 

Snail mail a postcard, card, note, whatever you can get in an envelope with a stamp! I would love that. Message me or Rick for a mailing address. I love, love, love to get mail from you! 

Onward!

Sherri