At last! Chemotherapy has such a bad reputation, I never thought I’d be looking forward to it! This transition marks the end of a long period of intense anxiety and suspense between the first diagnosis of cancer and the final treatment plan. During that time, the cancer was presumably progressing at an unknown rate, the tumors in my liver further curtailing functions essential to life.
The low point came between Thanksgiving and Christmas, skating on thin ice without treatment and a feeling of slipping away. Unanticipated setbacks (death of our oncologist) and holiday downtime prevented developing the diagnosis while adding to uncertainty and tension. We consulted qualified professionals to learn what could be done to bolster liver function and my immune system while waiting. Herbal supplements, vitamins and a rigorous nutrition/diet plan to reduce toxins as much as possible apparently worked. Just before Christmas, I began to gain a bit of strength with less fatigue, improving my spirits. A rekindled clarity appeared in my eye along with a sense of purpose.
Now we’re back in unknown territory. Each person responds to chemotherapy individually, just as they manifest the symptoms of the illness uniquely.
The mechanics are simple: a 6-hour IV drip delivering in order: hydration, Cisplatin, anti-nausea medication, and Irinotecan. The cycle: two consecutive Thursdays, skip one; repeat. Blood tests provide weekly glimpses of my response to the treatments. Monitor progress at the 6-week mark with a CT scan.
These benchmarks are engraved into our calendar; we eagerly await results.
Copyright 2007
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