I’m experimenting with different brands of Heparin to see if we can find one I’m not allergic to. Tiny pustules and blotches of rash have me scratching like some demented ape with a serious flea problem. Allergy medication helps to some extent but if I’m on this Continue reading “Itchy and Scratchy”
I am reconsidering my thoughts on fighting cancer. It was my distinct impression that the doctors, nurses and technicians who dedicate their days and nights to the fight are the front lines of the war. We patients are along for the ride by necessity. What looks like bravery, as I said in I Don’t Feel So Courageous, is merely bowing to the inevitable and following medical advice. I might have been wrong.
My battle against cancer might involve more than I thought it did. Although showing up for chemo isn’t, in my opinion, any sort of bravery, showing up every time with a positive attitude, hopeful outlook and determination to understand and optimise the process might be. Continue reading “Round 4 and Counting”
Today we recommence pumping poison into my veins to combat the cancer on my liver and in my blood. I’m hoping the nurses in the chamo clinic will be able to tell me why every square inch of my skin often itches so badly I want to scream in frustration. I suspect it is a side effect of the Dalteparin that is thinning my blood enough for my heart to push it past the clots in my artery. There are moments when I would prefer the clogged up circulatory system to the raging itchiness.
I have an appointment next week with the Hematologist in Vancouver who, as I understand it, will be able to assess the thinness of my vital fluid and adjust the thinners appropriately. Maybe that will help.
Well, time to head for the chemo clinic. Besides, I can’t think of anything more to write.
The news today was neither bad nor good. It was the most frustrating of outcomes; inconclusive.
Dr. Chung says there are still six tumors on my liver. Good. Two are larger than they were in December and four are the same. Not so good. There appears to be some sign of dead tissue in some of them but not enough to say that this cancer responds to chemo sufficiently to warrant slicing out a big chunk of liver. So we just don’t know.
He ordered another CT scan for six weeks from now hoping we can get three more rounds of chemo into me in the meantime. I’m waiting for a call from the chemo clinic to restart my treatments which were postponed due to chest pains. Now that we have identified the source (pulmonary embolisms) and thinned my blood sufficiently, we can start poisoning me again.
I whined to the oncologist last week that the last round of chemo caused severe cold sensitivity in my fingers and toes. Picking up anything out of the fridge was excruciating. Anything frozen was like handling hot coals. I was pretty sure those meds needed some adjusting before permanent nerve damage was done. She assured me this is a perfectly normal, minor side effect and there is a lot worse to look forward to. I should talk to her about it again when I need to wear gloves to pick up a pencil.
While we wait for the call I’ll sip tea and learn to type with gloves on.