Half Way There

A golf ball directly before the hole

Image via Wikipedia

Just don’t sing Livin’ on a Prayer. After a full day at chemo with the easy listening station attempting to rock in the background, I’m in no mood. Lovely people, those nurses. Sent from heaven. All of them. But, their taste in music is criminal. At one point, we were subjected to Jesse’s Girl. Like it’s not enough that these people have cancer. I mean, really. Rick Springfield? Unless he’s been FDA approved, get him the fuck out of there.

Today was Hubs’ third round of chemo, and the half-way point in his proposed 6-cycle treatment for Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, aka The Fucking Cancer. We got to the Injection Center at 10:30am this morning. Again, it was a packed house. There were familiar faces in many of the chairs.

Dr. W stopped by around 11:30am. He said Hubs is still on-target for being done in six cycles. A PET scan will be ordered after the 4th cycle. Radiation is still a possibility. His LDH and sedation rates have continued to come down, and are now within normal ranges – normal like someone without cancer normal. Fairly awesome considering how high his LDH was when this carnival of fun kicked into gear. His golf game may not be 100%, but this is still good news.

It took a while to get the chemo hooked up and dripping today. The first drugs started going in around 12:45pm. You’ve gotta love a new computer system. They went live the first week of Hubs’ chemo. Still working out the kinks. Since one of my former lives was managing Radiology Information System installs, I feel their pain. We just roll with it. It’s not like we’ve made other plans for the day. Plus, it’s kind of a cool system. Lots of checks and balances. We like those. You want to make sure you’re getting the right cell-killing toxic shit pumped into your loved-one’s veins. You know?

The Lunch Lady (my SIL of Great Awesomeness) stopped by with tasty food for us to eat just as the party was starting today, and joined me in a few poorly stifled laughs at inappropriate humor. We really are not well-behaved in these stressful times.

Tomorrow Peanut will join my SIL’s kiddos, et al, for some extended-family time and a mini road trip. Bug has a 4-H science project meeting. He’s bummed to miss the Great Gathering of The Cousins On The Hottest Weekend Evah, but a scientist’s work is never done. He suffers gladly for his research, and the prospect of using the sun to burn stuff, I’m guessing cook.

I had fully intended to include a bitchin’ picture of the umpteen empty IV bags at the end of the day to mark this momentous occasion, but the Murse snagged them before I could snap my shot. I didn’t think it would go over too well if I dove into the red biohazard container to retrieve them. I was pretty sure he would frown on that. So judgy judgy, those Murses.


Reblog this post [with Zemanta]