Cancer is complex -- biologically, physically and mentally. This is my blog to sort out some of that complexity. Diagnosed with follicular lymphoma in 2011, I started blogging about my cancer the day after I was diagnosed. Part mental therapy, part conversation, and part update, the blog talks about all the myriad aspects of being diagnosed with cancer -- symptoms, treatment, attitude, support, research and many other topics.
Clinical Trial - Week Two is in the books and by all accounts, it's an improvement. For one, the actual infusion was three hours shorter. For another, the actual participants (that would be me) approached it a little smarter. The only issues we had were: 1) the food cart that usually goes around didn’t make it around because they were short on volunteers for the day (Matthew - where were you?) and 2) the Benadryl IV made the room spin like I drank a bottle of Ouzo. Unfortunately, I hadn’t. But fortunately, the vertigo subsided after about 10 minutes.
The side effects were also better than week one. This is counterintuitive as it is possible for side effects to accumulate throughout the course of treatment. It happened to some extent the first treatment course five years ago, but again, that involved a more toxic chemo (Bendamustine). In fact, I still blame Bendamustine for some long-term mildly annoying effects which I won’t go into here.
But this week, Saturday produced only the mildest effects that didn’t interfere with my exciting day of errands and lawn mowing. And by Sunday, I went for one of my best runs in a LONG time. A short run (yes, PB, a baby run), but one at my normal pace and with no sluggishness. All in all, a good week.
But here’s the catch. For the 99% of us cancer patients/survivors who have at least a mild amount of canxiety (cancer anxiety, that is), we start thinking, “Wait, if the side effects aren’t bad, does that mean the treatment isn’t working?” To which, I’d say, “No. It doesn’t mean that at all.” In fact, we’ve written about that on our Dana-Farber blog. We won’t know how well things worked for 2.5 months post treatment when we do scans again. What should we expect for then? What if it doesn’t work? What if it does? Where do we go next? All good questions that I’m going to try not to dwell on until we get there.
ps - for reference, here's what I was thinking halfway through my six-month chemo regimen five years ago
I started writing this post yesterday with the idea that I’d give the blow-by-blow from day one, complete with time stamp. But, if you want to know the truth, day one was long and boring, and a detailed post on the subject would be the same.
So instead, some thoughts on day one and how I’m doing 3+ days after infusion. Spoiler alert: I ran 3.5 miles this morning and while it may have been about 15 seconds off my normal pace, I ran negative splits and, well, I’m doing fine.
That’s about how I expected I would be. But as I always do, I probably underestimated the overall impact of starting treatment for the second time. Perhaps it’s a natural cognitive defense to minimize upcoming unpleasantries; perhaps it’s just me.
Infusion day itself wasn’t that dramatic (there was a little drama, more on that later) but just long. I left my house around 5:45 am and got home around 10;15 pm. Stacy drove in once. Went home. Took a train back in with Noah, and then drove us all home. So it was lonnnnnnng. For me. For her. For the nurses. (Okay, I know it’s cliche to sing the praises of infusion nurses, but really, they are incredible. We take for granted that they are professionals through and through, but their warmth and kindness over 9+ hours of infusion is invaluable.)
At least 90 percent of the day’s length had nothing to do with the fact that it was a clinical trial and was due to a slow weaning on to the Rituxan meds. About an hour into it, I was starting to have some reaction which led to pausing the infusion, administering some more Benadryl, and then continuing on our merry little infusion way.
But here was the first of the underestimating.. Given that I had Rituxan in the past, I thought it’d be quicker this go round. Not so much. And I also figured, I’ll drive home. No big deal. Except for the fact that I was loaded up on Benadryl.
So we’ve got a better game plan for day two this week, both in the transportation front, and also, the snacking front. And my advice for anyone reading this who is or knows a cancer patient is: prepare for the worst, hope for the best.
I’m not a cancer rookie. Yet still, my initial plan was, treatment in the morning, back in my office in the pm. Carry on. When that became untenable, my plan shifted to: treatment Thursday, back in the office on Friday. When treatment didn’t end till 8:30 on Thursday, that shifted to: work from home on Friday.
And that plan has worked. The good news about this treatment vs. 2012 is that there is no Bendamustine, which has a nastier side effect profile. The best way to describe the side effects for this is that about 48 hours out from infusion, you feel like you have a mild hangover, less the fun of drinking the night before. So other than being a little foggy, a little tired, and a little achy on Saturday, no ill effects. By Sunday I was pretty much side effect free.
Now I'm three days out and, well, see the note about the run this morning — always my barometer of health. And we now have a good plan for next three treatments which will have me working from home on Friday.
So that’s where we are, mid-way through week one. Looking forward to being back in the office tomorrow, and hoping for a shorter day on Thursday.
Finally, just a quick shout of thanks to everyone for the well wishes via the blog or Facebook or via text or email or any other way. It was both a great distraction and buoyed my spirits on a long day.