The Curve Ball

Just when we thought we had the whole chemo thing down...someone throws a curve ball. 

We weren't expecting anything different from the previous five times, but apparently the stuff builds up and packs a wallop at the end.  Maybe.  That's our thought. 

Actually, it's my thought--because he isn't thinking about anything but how to drag himself from upstairs to downstairs, or how he isn't hungry but should be eating something, or how generally not-good he feels.

He did decide to go to E's soccer game on Sunday (I got two lovely goals from my son).  He even had enough energy to hit PetSmart to replace Grammy's deceased favorite white goldfish with three new white babies, figuring that at least one of them should survive.  And was able to enjoy the rotisserie chicken for our Mom's Day dinner.

But his brief burst of wellness is over and today he's back to feeling not great.

Two someones will be glad when the side effects wear off and life can get back to business-as-usual.

In the Homestretch

Treatment number six is tomorrow and I'm not sure whether it's taken forever to arrive or if the time flew by.  Regardless, it's good to know that we've reached the end of this chemo cycle.

We're saying farewell to the vincristine part of the cocktail.  The neuropathy reappeared again after the last chemo and there's no point in courting a permanent condition with just this last treatment to go.  He's grateful that his fingers have just the merest hint of a tingle.  His toes are another story but, so far, they slowly improve each time.  Hopefully, they'll continue to progress back to normal.

Besides tomorrow's chemo, we're booked with appointments for the next month.  There will another CT scan to see how far the tumors have shrunk.  Then we'll have a follow up with our oncologist, both to learn the results and to decide what comes next. 

There is a maintenance program that involves periodic infusions of the Rituxan, the monoclonal antibody that targets lymphoma, for two years.  It's part of his current regimen and he tolerates it well. Naturally we're researching the statistics and results, weighing the benefits and drawbacks, and comparing the outcomes.  While it would be nice to think that after four and a half months of chemotherapy that the lymphoma is gone (complete remission would be nice), the truth is that it'll be back someday.  The maintenance program is a new approach that helps some, but not all, patients by delaying a recurrence.

I suspect that by the time we have the CT results, talk to Dr. Bowman and give it a little thought, we'll be able to come to a decision we're comfortable with.

Now it's time to pack the cooler for tomorrow's indoor picnic, grab a good book and a bag of hand-sewing and get ready for tomorrow.

We're grateful for a capable doctor, caring nurses, supportive family and friends.  And warm weather.