Chemo, Pills, and Soup

Greetings! So, with San Diego behind us, it is time to refocus on destroying this cancer. I had three appointments Thursday morning: first with the phlebotomist, then with the ENT surgeon, and finally with the clinical drug coordinator.

Aside from my medical appointments, Jess and I had a lot going on that day. Jess needed to coordinate drop-offs and pick-ups for the kids, while I was still in the company of Randy, who flew out later that day. We decided to take two vehicles. Randy and I headed out first in order to make my 0740 appointment with the cancer clinic. This was the first time he got to see Tucson in the sunlight, so I enjoyed playing tour guide even it was just for a short while. I purposely drove the scenic route so that I could drive Randy next to the Air Force boneyard. This is where the Air Force stores thousands of airplanes that have been retired. If you have never seen the boneyard in person, it is well worth the trip if you ever find yourself in the Tucson area.

We arrived at the cancer clinic with 20 minutes to spare. I signed in at the front desk where they then handed me a pager. I recommended to Randy we head down to the cafe for some coffee. On our way, we past by the pharmacy where Randy took notice that they sold Aloe Vera gel... something he had be desiring since he had burned while we were in San Diego. I guess his northwestern, pasty white skin couldn't handle the killer rays of SD.

My pager activated jut as I had payed for my coffee. I looked back at Randy who had not yet purchased anything. Holing up the pager for him to see, I said, "you're welcome," and I walked away. I made my way toward the lab, where I could see a female standing outside the entrance door waiting for me-she was going to be my vampire for the day. I was taken back and seated in one of the phlebotomy chairs that have the padded, swiveling tray designed to catch you if you pass out. I tried to engage the phlebotomist, using my typical peppy charm, but I don't think she had her morning coffee yet. I had four vacutainers of blood taken, which has been about the standard number lately. The technician was able to locate and hit a vein relatively quickly. As usual, I am always a good helper... ready to old vacutainers, apply pressure, or hand out equipment as I see needed. She released the death grip band from around my arm and excused me for the lab. The entire process only lasted a couple minutes. It wasn't a bad experience, but it wasn't overly pleasant either. Strictly business...

Walking back into the waiting room, I found Randy sitting in a chair just taking in his surroundings. He made a comment to me on how young I appear compared to many of the other patients. He shared with me a story about his old man, who has since passed on after a bout with cancer himself. Randy and I moved to a couch that was positioned where we could better observe the people walking in and out of the cancer clinic. People watching was one of our favorite activities when we were young.

The pharmacy inside the clinic opened up at 0800. Randy was quick to buy his Aloe Vera gel. He returned to the couch already applying this clear goop all over his face. We made a couple jokes, we laughed, and as usual, caused a scene as people looked our way to see what the commotion was about. Some things will never change.

My pager activated again. It was time to meet-up with the ENT surgeon, who I had not seen in a little over two weeks. A nurse met me at the door and led me to an exam room, where she obtained a set of vitals. She was more pleasant than the phlebotomist... she must have had her coffee. I gained some weight since my last visit, which would be expected after eating out multiple times a day over the last week or so. The way I look at it... I'm about to go on a liquid diet for awhile and may loose some of my ability to taste food. I should indulge and enjoy food as much as possible now because I may miss it later.

My ENT surgeon walked in with her typical team of assistants. One of the gals immediately jumped on a computer and began typing away... as if she was a court reporter taking down every work spoken. The other assistant had a note pad and appeared to be looking over some information. Also in the group was the clinical trial coordinator and Jessica. Jess arrived just in time, which I consider a blessing since she always takes good notes for me.

The ENT surgeon immediately asked me if I had been told how I had randomized within the clinical drug trial. I replied with a, "No." I was informed that I randomized as one of "non-participants" of the IRX-2 drug injections. I will still receive the oral medications and the initial dose of chemo, but I will not get the actual test drug. I was a bit bummed out. I had convinced myself that I was going to receive this potentially awesome drug that would prevent me from having a cancer relapse down the road. I was ensured that my participation is still critical to the clinical trial. I agreed, and promised to do what I had signed up to do.

The ENT surgeon began looking me over. She checked all the usual spots, trying to determine if there were any changes since the last visit. She was concerned that she could not feel the enlarged lymph nodes in my neck. The were certainly there because they showed up clearly on the CT scan, but must be hidden behind my muscle tissue. She commented that most patients are much older than me, so getting to the lymph nodes may prove to be a little more difficult than usual. She was very honest, telling me that this would not be an easy recovery. I had a lot of mass (muscle) to work through, which can prolong the recovery process. I asked her questions about known side effects such as limited saliva production and taste. She confirmed that both could be lessened, but doubts either would be completely lost. I took this as good news. The ENT surgeon again confirmed the need for radiation as well as chemo to be on the safe side. She told us that the involvement of the lymph nodes changed the entire game.

After we confirmed surgery dates and pre-op appointments, the ENT surgeon and her team left. Jess and I were left talking to the clinical trial coordinator. We were told that I would need to head upstairs to begin my first chemo treatment. She also informed us that she would bring me all the medications I would need to fulfill the 21 day drug trial obligations.

Jess and I headed upstairs towards the chemotherapy clinic. As we approached the front desk, there he was... Randy. He had taken it upon himself to cruise around the cancer clinic, scooping the place out. I was not at all surprised. Randy then joined Jessica and I as we waited to be called back. It didn't take too long before my clinical trial coordinator found us upstairs and escorted me to where I would be receiving my first dose of chemo.

The chemo treatment room was designed for patients that were only receiving an few rounds of treatment. There were hospital-like rooms within the clinic where some patients had been staying for multiple day long treatments. There were four treatment chairs-one in each corner of a large room. There were also multiple visitation chairs, two of which Jessica and Randy occupied. The room was ridiculously cold. I don't know if it was done on purpose, but it felt like it could snow under the right circumstances.

The technician that assisted me was extremely nice. He was large guy... not fat, beefy. He talked slow, with a Russian sounding accent. The technician wrapped my arms in a blanket with heating packs. He said it would help open my blood vessels. I assumed they were going to use a large gauge needle, which always hurt more.

We had to wait around for a bit before the technician inserted my IV catheter and port. In the meantime, Randy and I filled my wife in on some of the adventures we had while in San Diego. We threw in a couple inside jokes, which we laughed at, but were obviously over my wife's head. She was convinced that we (Randy and I) were meant to be together.

The drug trial coordinator stopped in to deliver my oral medications and the log I was expected to fill out three times a day. I didn't realize I had homework to do... She also dropped by the prescriptions for the other four medications I was receiving that day. If my math suits me well...I am not up to eight pills and two mouth rinses. I joked about needing one of those pill holders old people use to keep track of the days of the week. The coordinator gal was quick to let us know they sold them downstairs, which Jess then quickly offered to go buy one. Being the man I am... I immediately dismissed the idea, confident I could keep track of the pills myself. I also made a joke that its a good thing I'm taking so many pills since some of them need to be taken with a meal. I'll be taking so many pills that it will be like killing two birds with one stone.

I eventually got hooked up with the chemo medicine. I don't know why, but I thought the chemo was going to hurt or burn. It didn't hurt at all! I was told I might feel some nausea, but even that didn't seem to happen. Maybe my youthful age is a benefit!

It took thirty minutes to go through the entire bag of medicine. During that time, we were accompanied by another gentleman and his wife. He was 81 years old and had advanced stage four cancer throughout his body. I was again amazed at the resiliency of the human spirit. He appeared at peace with his disease. He sat there like a champ, chatting with his wife and bragging that he had not felt nauseated in quit some time. He obviously had been here before because he knew to ask for soups and other snacks. When he asked what soups they had available, I looked a Randy and said, "The soup of the day." He replied with, "Mmmm.... that sounds good. I'll take that." If you didn't know... this is a joke from Dumb and Dumber. Anything to get a laugh.

Jess had ran downstairs to request my prescription be filled at the onsite pharmacy. It was nice because we were able to pick up my meds immediately following the chemo treatment. When we arrived to the pharmacy, I provided my name and birth date to the ladies behind the counter. It didn't take long to retrieve my items, but it was long enough for a prankster to get one last joke in before we left. After the lady had delivered my meds, she asked if I wanted to purchase "that" as she pointed at a box sitting in front of me. It was an at-home enema kit. I immediately turn around to Randy laughing uncontrollably and my wife smirking. I didn't buy the enema kit, but I did get a shopping bag full of medications.

We then left the cancer clinic. I was now equipped with an assortment of pills, each one having a purpose. I could name them off to you, but I wouldn't know what each of them do. Some are to help boost my immune system while others help fight off nausea.

The appointments took much longer than I had anticipated, so I didn't have as much time to play tour guise as I would have hoped. I took Randy to lunch and then cruised through the UofA campus before heading towards the airport. It sure was nice getting to see him. Spending time with his brought back many memories. Our time together was just long enough to establish some new memories that I have no doubt will bring much laughter sometime down the road.