And Once Again -- THE FIGHT IS ON!!!

Looks like the clinical trial will have to be put on hold for now.  Moffitt is still doing pathology to see if I qualify for the test.  Odds are that I will, but without me – at least for the moment.  This new and decidedly more despicable version of my cancer decided to do some spreading this past week, causing the need for some immediate intervention.  Both my personal guardian angel MD and the clinical trial MD in Tampa made it pretty clear that they would rather I didn’t wait for the trial paperwork to be completed.  The earliest that would have been possible – with everything working exactly on time (hah!) – was February 11^th.  Everyone was in agreement that I should begin treatment now.  

So, tomorrow morning the new regimen begins: Monday/labs – Tuesday/chemo – Wednesday/Neulasta injection.  Then 3 weeks off (six times).  This is a drug that I’ve taken before and it worked very well.  It knocks me down for a while, but it also knocks my vile opponent for a loop, as well.  Hopefully, it will work as well this time around. 

I really had high hopes for the trial.  As I said before, I understand clinical trials.  I was looking forward to all the technical details and protocol requirements and clinical discussions.  I was anxious to possibly take part in changing medical history – to participate in testing a drug that might actually make a difference.  But my BIG BOSS has other plans for me and that’s just fine.  I need to trust more and just go along with Him. He knows how I can best make a difference. Besides, there's a lot to be said for going home to my own bed instead of to a hotel room after chemo and resting in my recliner the next day instead of in the car for the 3-hour ride home.

 

So, for now, I am reading my chemotherapy journals and packing my chemo bag.  I have my anti-nausea meds, my pre and post steroids (not the Lance Armstrong type), my thermometer, BP monitor, and journal next to my bed.  I’ve changed my mammogram appointment and cancelled my teeth cleaning until after all the treatments are completed.  I’ve put a batch of sauce in the freezer along with the makings for other easy dinners.  The pantry has lots of chicken noodle (sick) soup and Ensure.  I’m gathering my puzzle books, lots of yarn for my shawls, my Kindle and my biggest water bottle.  Oh, and of course, my Prayer Quilt is getting a wash and dry and we’ll all be ready to go! 

As I was preparing my “stuff,” I was recalling some “Chemo Etiquette” I read in a magazine a long time ago.  It’s very good advice – for newbies to the chemo room and also for us old warhorses! 

   

                                           Don’t be quick to share your prognosis or details of your disease.  And don’t ask others about theirs.  Be sensitive to the fact that others in the infusion room may be at different phases of treatment and this kind of discussion could be unsettling.  You never know what other people are dealing with. 

 

    Read others’ body language.  Infusion rooms can be lively places, where people chat, share tips, and bond.  But not everyone may be feeling talkative.  If someone is immersed in a book or wearing headphones, they may prefer to enjoy quiet time.  As a matter of fact, if YOU want some quiet time, wear headphones – even if you have nothing playing!  

Thank you all for your many kindnesses and thoughtful notes and, of course, your invaluable prayers.  You keep me strong – we keep each other strong.  That’s what life’s about.  I know it’s not original but – Life isn’t about waiting for the sun to come out, it’s about learning to dance in the rain!  Friends are the Sunshine of Life!  Thank you dear friends!