I’m Not Dead Yet (I.N.D.Y.)

Well, my weekend of freedom is a fleeting memory; I was back in the hospital today for Week 2 of my treatment and it was not nearly as challenging as last Monday, but there were still some kinks. As I mentioned in a previous post, when I went for my radiation simulation, the technicians drew on me with Sharpies. (The purpose of the simulation was to get exact measurements regarding my tumor which were subsequently used to put together my radiation treatment plan.)

For those of you who have not seen me without my shirt recently, I offer this image. As you can see, I have some lines and “plus signs” on my sides and chest (I have another set of markings on the other side of my body). There are laser lights in the walls and ceilings of the room in which I get my radiation treatment. These lasers are used to align my body so that it is in the same (exact) position as when they did the simulation.

Today, I went in and, because of various snafus (including the computer mysteriously rebooting and the student working with my technician accidentally pushing the wrong button on the control that moves the table I lay one), my positioning needed to be re-aligned 3 times. Thus, my treatment took at least twice as long. Part of this challenge is the fact that I had rotator cuff surgery in February, 2007. My radiation treatment requires that I keep both my arms above my head for the entire treatment (actually, once they have me aligned, I’m not supposed to move AT ALL). By the end of the treatment today, I had lost feeling in my bottom and my arms. Butt (ahem) I survived.

My appointment with the oncologist was quick and painless and then I got to the ambulatory care unit and Chemo Bay ‘C’. Nurse Angela used a Huber Needle (like the one pictured to the right) to access my port; it is through this needle that the drug from the chemo pump gets into my system. Well, Angela opened the bag that was labeled to indicate that it contained a 3/4″ needle, but when she inserted it into my port, about 1/4″ was sticking out (it went in okay, but then she hit the back/bottom of the port). After futzing around with it, I asked Angela to see if she could replace the needle. She went through and found an actual 3/4″ Huber needle, inserted it into the port, and all was well.

So for those of you keeping track at home here is how I am doing regarding the odds:

1. I have been diagnosed with a disease that affects 0.0055% of men aged 40-49 in the United States;
2. Given a 2 to 1 possibility of getting into the experimental arm of the GenVec trial, I get randomized into the (less probable) control arm;
3. Of all the chemo pumps that have been dispensed by the Winship Cancer Institute, my nurses have never heard of the pharmacy putting the tubing on backwards
4. Of all the chemo ports that have been accessed at the cancer institute, my nurses have never experienced a case in which the wrong sized needle was mislabeled in the bag

Now; I fully plan to use this tendency of mine to experience rare events to (a) beat this disease and (b) win the lottery; unfortunately, I expect to be successful at the former, but not the latter.

Inconvenience notwithstanding, today I had an appetite (MaryBeth and I had lunch with a friend from church and Abbie and I had lunch with Grandma Arlene, who had a 4+ hour layover at the Atlanta airport), I had energy, and the effects of chemo and radiation today were relatively minor.  Thus, it was a good day!  And so begins week #2.

Merle

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