Chemotherapy #6

Our plan from the beginning was that I would join Kim for chemotherapy sessions #1 and #8 while allowing Kim to welcome friends and family for all the ones in between. I've joined Kim for her oncologist visits and then given her a smooch at the infusion bay for visits #2 through #5 but for #6 I stayed for the entire session. I swapped with our friend Jessica who will take over #8 for me. She's an organ transplant nurse and was on call for this session so I didn't sweat the change. I mean, that's a hell of a job compared to talking about bikes on the internet and stuff. So, back to #6 last Thursday.

The visit with Kim's oncologist, Dr Anderson, was routine. All her numbers look about as good as they can for someone soaking up all that chemotherapy. He once again confirmed the reduction in size of the tumors and is pleased with her progress. Our visits with him remain positive and brief, I'll take that as a good sign that there's little to be concerned about. He's a funny guy and always has on colorful socks. He fits well within our circle of friends. To say that the visits with him are quick isn't to say that he's in a rush or isn't thorough. He's very present in his conversation with us but wants to get things going for Kim as he knows better than anyone that the sooner we start the sooner we finish.

These final four sessions are longer and, quite frankly, not all that interesting. They get Kim started with a big bag of Benadryl to offset any potential allergic reactions and for the next 30 minutes she's kind of dazed. Last session they pushed it pretty quickly so for this week she asked to have the drip go more slowly. The result was that she felt better and more alert.

Did I say more alert?

Once the Taxol bag gets hung and the drip starts it takes about 3.5 hours for it to complete. We bring books, magazines, snacks, coloring books, and all sorts of stuff to do but don't really end up getting much done. Kim dozed off a few times and I managed to read some magazines and look at everything on social media. Kim has been scheduling the sessions for 9:30 AM so that we can get out prior to the 3:00 PM rush hour. It's worked out well for us given that Portland now has real traffic to contend with.

It dawned on me last week that I'd let the Big Views Diet drop off so plans were made to take advantage of a break in the rain on Saturday to get outside. Now, all plans hinge on Kim feeling well on the weekend. For the most part, she's fine on Friday and then starts to feel symptoms creep in on Saturday afternoon. But the sun was out and she really wanted to be outside so we headed out for an easy hike with Jason joining along.

I choose Smith & Bybee Wetlands, a 2000 acre public park and nature preserve between the Columbia Slough and Columbia River north of Portland. It is one of the largest urban freshwater wetlands in the United States and home to thousands of birds. While we didn't get close enough to see the big populations of birds we sure could hear them. We did get to see a few hawks up close as well as garter snakes.

The main reason I chose this hike was that it is pancake flat. Kim had daydreams of a mountain hike but she's lost a few gears and I didn't want to put too much stress on her with climbing. We'd also never been out here so it was fun for all of us to try something new. Always fun to see a different view of the city as well.

Smith & Bybee Wetlands

So, six down and two to go. It sounds close to the finish but that still means 6-8 weeks of chemotherapy in her system. She never complains. Never. The closest I've heard was earlier this evening when I asked her the name of the drug she's on now and she said, "Poison". She's still skinny and pretty tired most of the time but hasn't missed out on much. So many side effects wreaking havoc and the best Dr Anderson can say is "hang on". He's doing all he can to keep her comfortable but his job is to kill cancer so there's gonna be side effects.

She still can't taste very much and deals with GI issues every day. Her eyebrows and eyelashes are starting to thin now, as well. Strangely, her thumb print is disappearing and she cannot use her iPhone ID with much success these days. And, boy, do her feet hurt a lot. On the good side, the pink wig really suits her and she makes friends wherever she goes. It helps, too, now that it's cooler outside and she doesn't overheat wearing the wig for long periods of time.

Session #6 marked three months for us in chemotherapy and that makes us veterans now. Kim has been called on to advise new patients about what to expect and I see new couples in the center for their first time now. It feels like a lifetime ago that it was us. They have that same enthusiasm to fight like hell but they don't know the grind that is ahead of them. I do the best I can to smile and show my solidarity. The infusion center is an interesting place to spend four or five hours because you learn a lot of intimate details about people. This week I saw a number of patients in the clinic on their own and I wonder why that is. Did they choose to spend the time alone or are there reasons no one can join them? I know I can't do much for Kim there other than help with blankets and getting water but I feel like someone needs to be there with her. I want someone there for everyone.

Every time a nurse brings medicine they ask for the patient's name and birthday to confirm the proper recipient of the medicine. Next to Kim for this session was a 22-year-old woman who was by herself. She looked even younger and I felt so angry that she had to be here with this disease. Her IV hurt and she was in a lot of discomfort. It's hard not to involve yourself in someone's life when they are that close to you. Two chairs from her was an elderly woman on her own as well though she was on her phone with a relative for much of here visit. She didn't seem phased by a bit of it all and I got a sense that she'd seen enough in her time to take this treatment in stride. Kim, too, I'd say. She dozed off once or twice and also seemed to manage the day unfazed. She drinks a lot of water during sessions and she pees a lot. Like, a lot. Up and down and up an down. I think I put blankets on her a dozen times.

I enjoyed my time with her this session. I ran out for coffee in a terrible rain storm and we enjoyed some breakfast sandwiches with that coffee while trying to sort out the deal with our two kids. Teenagers are insane, (of course), and chemotherapy does nothing to help fix them. But it was as good a day as one can have for this and there's only two to go.

Thank you to everyone for meals, offers of meals, cookies, funny stories, thoughts, advice, all of it. We feel every positive thought here. Thank you.

Jason made a friend

Soaking up the last rays of sunshine