It’s difficult to classify where we’re at with the chemo as a pattern hasn’t emerged yet and the medical staff seem to enjoy maintaining an air of mystery over the sequence of events. Is this because they like to keep secrets or they just don’t know.
Today Jane attended hospital for her Docetaxel infusion – it’s the cancer killer. She needed to be there for 11.30am to have her bloods taken and then two hours later her treatment starts. At 1.50pm she goes into the unit, sits there for two hours and they start the process at 4pm. Bearing in mind this is the fast infusion and should only take 30 minutes she didn’t get out until 5pm. I don’t mind waiting, I don’t even mind the inefficiency behind the scenes but I do object when a nurse comes out at 4.30pm to ask me to go up to pharmacy to get Jane’s steroids ready for next time when they’ve had all afternoon to organise this. In Lloyds pharmacy, a private company, they take 45 minutes to produce the prescription and during this time I calculate the number of requests going in exceed the drugs coming out by a ratio of 2:1 therefore the waiting time is lengthening all the time. I eventually get back to oncology at 5.30pm and Jane’s sitting there waiting for me – you couldn’t make it up.
And Jane is fine but she has been warned that she will be most vulnerable on Wednesday and Thursday. The steroids she takes before and after the Docetaxel have kicked in and she is getting hyper active already.
Within a few days Jane is feeling sick, her sense of taste is marred by a constant metallic flavour and she doesn’t feel like eating or drinking anything. Only her determination and willpower keeps her making sure she gets a balanced diet and stays hydrated. She is a rock!
She is a rock, who very luckily has another rock to lean on,
And you know what can happen when you strike two rocks together, you can get sparks. Thanks for your kind comments. Hope all is well with you and Rothersthorpe is running like clockwork.
As to the steriod prescription, why not ask your lovely (?) Italian oncologist for a prescription to cover the next three or four months, or for whatever she sees is necessary for the duration of the chemomotherapy. Have them deliver it in a lorry if necessary. You say you don’t mind waiting for it, but you lie brother, you lie. I’d be pissed too, as you well know.
I don’t think losing my cool would have helped the situation and I think I’ve got my anger management sorted (for now). I wonder if they only give out the steroids on a weekly basis in case anyone is tempted to overdose.
I didn’t say anything about loosing your cool. That’s my depatment anyway. An OD on steroids would only make Jane (or you) look like Arnold Schwarzenegger. No, they are just being silly…
Of course they’re being silly and although it sounds defeatist I don’t think I’m going to change their ways, at least not overnight.
They don’t seem to be helping you carry on through this and I’m afraid I had much the same experience with John and we were dealing with The John Radcliffe in Oxford, I’m sure your patience and experience of dealing with everything thrown in your path will see you through, good luck
Thanks Christy. Sometimes I have to let off steam otherwise I’d go crazy and the good thing is we have our closest friends on our doorstep who give us constant support and shoulders to cry on. Life goes on…
Your wonderful oncologist no doubt appreciates being asked questions. Ask her everything that causes you the least concern, including “can you be more specific about x or y? what factors might change the sequence?” If you’re asking the nurses or other staff, they will be vague because they won’t know your doctor’s precise strategy, which is custom-tailored to every patient, and may shift as events unfold. It’s great that Jane’s counts are holding up so she can continue to get her doses on schedule. I hope her previous experience with docetaxel will make it a little easier to stay unruffled while riding the bronco this week. Cancer, you are in for it big time this week! Hugs to both of you.
Thank you Dr T, good advice as always. She only sees her oncologist once every 3 weeks and the oncologist spends part of her week in Boston (that’s Boston, Lincolnshire not Massachusets) so she’s not easy to get hold of but she does ring Jane if she thinks there is a problem. As expected, today her face is flushed, her ankles are swollen and she’s feeling hyperactive. Of course none of this stops her and this afternoon she’s gone to an art class.