Update, week later

Well, what can I say... this AC chemotherapy is different from the previous cycle in a few ways. 

Mainly, the ongoing fatigue, overall weakness doesn't really last just a few days, but is an ongoing struggle for a week now. If before, by Monday I was back to normal and was able to function well for at least three days before the next treatment, now every day I have to lie down for a few hours, and for several days that is ALL I did.

Surprisingly, the hardest day was exactly a week later. AC chemo requires two weeks of recovery time, so all of a sudden, Thursday rolls in and it was the first time in three and a half months that I didn't need to go to Dana Farber for an infusion.  Maybe it is psychosomatic, but from Wednesday to Thursday the night was hell on wheels -- nausea, sweats, insomnia and incredible weakness --- lasted all night long into all day Thursday.

As Friday rolled in, I expected more of the same, but I woke up as if nothing happened and it was an easy day. Granted I had two friends flying into Boston to visit me and I suspect that also made a difference.

I mean, who knew that all it takes to beat chemo-induced fatigue is a couple of good friends and some quality time together?

Insurance hell

 

A separate note about the joys of our health insurance.

We have what is supposed to be one of the best company health insurances, Microsoft’s Blue Cross Blue Shield. And it does pay for most of my treatment, except for the times that it doesn’t.

One of the preferred treatments for my chemotherapy is a hormone that increases white blood cell count. My doctor wanted me to have it, as a preventative measure for my first chemotherapy cycle. My insurance denied it outright and then again on appeal because "it wasn’t medically necessary".

So during my 11th chemo session, my white blood cell count dropped to the point that half my chemotherapy had to be left out. There wasn't enough time to get the shorts... and  I mean, who wouldn't want to spend their time battling bureaucracy and filing complicated appeals when it already been denied? And don't you just love it when the insurance company decides that a treatment that's literally standard protocol for cancer is "not medically necessary"? I mean, what do those pesky doctors and medical researchers know anyway?

In a week, I am starting my second round of a different type of chemotherapy, when this growth hormone is part of the standard procedure; my insurance can’t deny it. But what they can do is deny the brand name version, which gets administered once a week. Instead, they approved the generic version that needs to be injected five times over the week, each time with a nurse who has to come over to perform the injection.

It is hard for me to imagine that it would cost more for the total of 4 shots for the brand drug vs the 20 shots plus 20 nurse visits, but it is what it is and the bureaucrats are adamant! Not to mention that it definitely more painful and more complicated for me. And, in addition to that, I’m the one that has to arrange with the nurse, while I’m weak from my current chemotherapy. Joy!

All in all, it's just wonderful to have health insurance that puts bureaucratic nonsense and penny-pinching ahead of actual patient care and expects you to have the stamina to deal with them during cancer treatments!

Hell broke loose

Well, when I thought 10th chemo was hard, I didn't know what that really meant. 

I got home on Thursday and even managed to cook something for Max, before feeling fatigued and crawling into bed. And in a few hours all hell broke loose -- first I got chills, then high fever (103 F / 39.5 C), delusions... George started calling my oncologist around 10 pm, when it became apparent that it was not going to go away on its own.

She said there were two possibilities: 

1. I started to get an allergic reaction to Carboplatin. Yes, I know it has been already 9 chemotherapy sessions, but it turns out it is pretty common to get it later in the treatments cycle due to overall accumulation.

2. I have some sort of serious infection, and God forbid, we don't want any organ failures and I should go to the nearest ER.

Just imagining a 30 minute drive, then a long wait at the ER full of sneezing and coughing people, which doubtfully could do much regarding any organ failure -- we decided on easier remedies of lukewarm showers and Ibuprofen. Several hours later, my temperature dropped to 37 C and the crisis was averted.

Friday, in the early hours of the morning, my oncologist called to check-up on me, and explained that this was most likely an allergic reaction and that next Thursday she will be adding back the steroids as premeds to try to deal with this.

It took almost till Sunday for me and here I am, still standing, well, sitting actually, but back to normal now.

It's scary to think that something like this could happen even after the 9th chemotherapy sessions, as I thought that by now I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. But I guess cancer treatment likes to keep us on our toes.

10th chemo

10th chemotherapy done ✅

This is probably what chemo really feels like, and I have been lucky and able to avoid that feeling for at least 8 sessions (one of my chemo's was rough, though not as much as today). 

My usual routine of watching movies or listening to audiobooks for the 4 or so hours didn't save me today... But it is done, and only 2 more to go with this chemo cycle.

Special place in hell

Now, I want to reserve a special place in hell for the person who came up with the brilliant idea of  covering the deep cut over the port incision with 5 inch thick layer of gauze pressed down by a really wide, transparent medical industrial-strength Band-Aid  -- very thin, almost translucent plastic that sticks like glue to your skin.

It turned out that this Band-Aid could only be ripped off with a layer of your sad, battered and bruised epidermis. And you are not allowed to get any water on it for two days to try and ease this!! 

As per Google doctor's picture to the right --- it is part of the protocol by some genius. I bet like many people who don't have kids and like to give advice how to raise them, this genius probably never went under the knife themselves. 

AAAHHHH!