Week 3, Day 1

wednesday 28 january 2015

we finally get to see the guy who can do the most to address my various side effects and complaints after the gembitamine infusion starts at roswell park cancer institute late wednesday afternoon -- dr. marcus sikorski, who has nothing to lose if he gets into a "going bald for bucks" fund raiser. 

the sinus infection? sure, you can take coricidin HBP for it. but you also should rinse with saline solution. the rash? he'll write a prescription for a cream and phone it in to my pharmacy. frequent urge to go to the bathroom all night long these past few nights? cut down on fluids in the evening. the latest blood test results from earlier in the afternoon, which show low red and white blood counts? often they'd interrupt the chemo sequence with those readings, but it's still ok.

by this point, the haze of pain from the IV is muffling the news. this drug hurts, a circle of high discomfort where it goes in on the back of my hand and more in the lower part of my forearm. it took nearly the whole half-hour before a small level of ease crept in. i'd insisted that we use the left hand this time, because my right hand still is sore from last week. 

at least there's no nausea, thanks to another anti-nausea pill before the infusion started. health proxy bill finkelstein and i go to a nearly-deserted torches restaurant on kenmore avenue for a nice dinner and monica joins us. there's a broccoli and cheese theme this evening. broc and cheese soup with a broc and cheese garnish. for one of the free appetizer treats -- broc and cheese pierogi. yum! for my main course, batter-crusted shrimp on skewers over udon noodles with vegetables, complete with chopsticks. still no nausea. 

plenty of fatigue, though. i start nodding off almost as soon as i set down my chopsticks. a stop at the pharmacy at tops market on amherst street secures some saline solution, but not the cream. they don't have it in stock, the pharmacist says, so they'll have to order it. and my new-since-jan.-1 employer-provided health care plan won't pay for it. how much? $20, she says. no problem, we'll get it, i say, but i'm miffed. guess there are limits to independent health's well-advertised red shirt treatment. more like red flag. 

once home, i can't keep my eyes open in front of the computer. plus i'm cold. it's only 9 p.m., but i need to crank up the electric blanket and crawl into bed. and that's where i stay, aside from those hourly walks to the bathroom, until 9 a.m.