Today's chemo session went faster than the first. Since J tolerated the first round so well they were able to speed up his IVs--we were only there for seven hours instead of nine!
We're able to report that the drugs are working well. Compared to three weeks ago, pre-chemo, he's now sleeping, has an appetite, and isn't taking anything for pain. He feels so well, in fact, that we were a little surprised to learn at his pre-chemo checkup that his white count is pretty low. So we're washing hands religiously and being extra careful with food prep as his immune system isn't up to coping with any infections.
With a low white count, it's possible that he may experience more side effects this go-round. Only time will tell if he gets extra fatigued, but it may be a long seven days.
His regular oncologist was out-of-town so we had our appointment with his colleague--who just happens to be a kindergarten daddy from last year--he took extra good care of us and made sure the white count was high enough that chemo was okay. As he said, lymphoma treatment is more like running a marathon than winning a sprint. We are blessed to have the care of a wonderful group of oncologists.
What do you do when you're tethered to one place for an entire day? Well, like we found the first time it helps to be an early appointment so you have your choice of spots to hang out. First we choose a deep bay with sun-drenched windows that's slightly separated from the rest of the room. Then J. catnaps in his recliner since his pre-meds make him sleepy. Or he solves word puzzles. Or he takes out his laptop and works on his latest consulting project. I'm in charge of bringing a cooler filled with drinks, fruit, jerky, nuts, crackers and other munchies that become lunch, snack and boredom killers. I raid my workbasket beforehand to keep my hands busy with embroidery, quilting or applique. My trusty Kindle provides endless reading material and there's always naps in the sunshine. E works right around the corner and he drops in before he starts his shift. Sounds familiar, right? Only two times and we're already developing a predictable routine.
Keep your fingers crossed that the side effects are as bearable as last time.
We're able to report that the drugs are working well. Compared to three weeks ago, pre-chemo, he's now sleeping, has an appetite, and isn't taking anything for pain. He feels so well, in fact, that we were a little surprised to learn at his pre-chemo checkup that his white count is pretty low. So we're washing hands religiously and being extra careful with food prep as his immune system isn't up to coping with any infections.
With a low white count, it's possible that he may experience more side effects this go-round. Only time will tell if he gets extra fatigued, but it may be a long seven days.
His regular oncologist was out-of-town so we had our appointment with his colleague--who just happens to be a kindergarten daddy from last year--he took extra good care of us and made sure the white count was high enough that chemo was okay. As he said, lymphoma treatment is more like running a marathon than winning a sprint. We are blessed to have the care of a wonderful group of oncologists.
What do you do when you're tethered to one place for an entire day? Well, like we found the first time it helps to be an early appointment so you have your choice of spots to hang out. First we choose a deep bay with sun-drenched windows that's slightly separated from the rest of the room. Then J. catnaps in his recliner since his pre-meds make him sleepy. Or he solves word puzzles. Or he takes out his laptop and works on his latest consulting project. I'm in charge of bringing a cooler filled with drinks, fruit, jerky, nuts, crackers and other munchies that become lunch, snack and boredom killers. I raid my workbasket beforehand to keep my hands busy with embroidery, quilting or applique. My trusty Kindle provides endless reading material and there's always naps in the sunshine. E works right around the corner and he drops in before he starts his shift. Sounds familiar, right? Only two times and we're already developing a predictable routine.
Keep your fingers crossed that the side effects are as bearable as last time.
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