Chemotheraphy – Day 1 (Friday, April 24, 2009)

(Note: I posted three different blog entries here today. These postings will make the most sense if your read them in chronological order. To do that, please scroll down and read them in this sequence:

....* Last Pre-Chemotherapy visit… (Monday, April 20, 2009)

....* Chemotheraphy Day Minus 1 (Thursday, April 23, 2009)

....* Chemotheraphy – Day 1 (Friday, April 24, 2009)…This posting

Short story...

I went to work, then started my chemotherapy today...No pain, No side-effects, No unusual sensations yet. I couldn't ask for a better start to all of this !

Long story...

I arrived at work at about 7:15 this morning to complete a database-architecture deliverable and to attend our daily team briefing at 9:00 a.m. Following the team meeting, I drove from my office the few blocks to LDS Hospital for my chemo therapy appointment at 10:30.

When I arrived at LDS Hospital’s Infusion Therapy Department on the Seventh Floor, I heard this lovely, familiar voice say, “Dave Hunt ! I can’t believe you are here at the same time that I’m here.” The wonderful greeting was from my next-door neighbor, Linda Black, who has been valiantly winning her battle over Stage 4 (Metastatic) cancer. She has had several affected organs either partially or completely removed during her fight. She has completed her chemo (and other) protocols, and was here receiving IV infusions of nutrients because she has had a difficult time gaining, or sustaining, weight because of the radical removal/re-section of abdominal and other gastric organs. She began her battle at a healthy-looking 130 pounds. She is now 105 pounds. Although Linda retains her beautiful facial features, she could benefit from her having additional weight back on, mainly for her health’s sake. (She has been staying with her wonderful care-giving sister in another neighborhood, but hopes to return soon to her place next door to us.)

Linda and I had a lovely visit for a few minutes before our respective infusions began. Our congregation’s Relief Society President, Nancy Tillotson, brought Linda to this appointment, and when Nancy returned at the end of Linda’s infusion, Nancy and I had a great visit, as well, as I updated her on my health developments, and she updated me on the continuing support for our family that Relief Society members have completed and have planned.

By 10:45, my infusion began:


.... * Hooking up my IV Port and administering the in-hospital chemotherapy:
........ - Anti-nausea medications, “Zofran” and “Dexamethasone”.
........ - Next, “Oxaliplatin” and “Leucovorin” anti-cancer medications in saline solutions. This infusion took about three hours.
........ - Flushing the line with a glucose solution (since the next medication is incompatible with saline).
........ - Administration of Fluorouracil (also known as 5-FU, for short). This infusion was a “power burst” (a “bolus”) of 800 ML (nearly a quart) of this medication over a 15-minute period.
Another line flush.

.... * Hooking up, and starting, a “portable infusion unit” to dispense to me 5-FU over the next 46 hours. This last step of my infusion session today is to unhook the hospital-based IV bags of chemo therapy and replace them with a battery-operated, portable infusion device. This clever piece of machinery looks like a “Game Boy with tentacles”. The “tentacles” are IV tubes that hook right up to my IV Port in my chest. The “Game Boy portion delivers the prescribed 5 ML per hour of 5-FU for 46 hours. To carry the Game Boy, Infusion Services gave me a -- (UK term:) “Bum-Bag”; (US term:) “Fanny Pack”…sorry UK folks, I know that “fanny” in the UK is something totally different from the American meaning of “rear end”. The delivery tubes then lead unobtrusively from the Game Boy under my shirt to the IV Port to deliver the 5-FU. At the end of 46 hours, I return to IMC Infusion Therapy Department to have them unhook the Game Boy and the tentacles, which marks the end of this first round of chemotherapy.

The infusion team then gave me the go-ahead to leave, so I hopped back in my car and headed for my office to continue work on my current work assignment. After finishing my work for the day, I posted this blog to you.

At this point (a few hours following Round 1 of my chemotherapy), I know that it is too soon to “expect” any side effects, or other physiological responses, or other sensations from the chemotherapy, but so far, several hours after this session, “It’s all good” – No pain, No nausea, No discomfort, No unusual sensations whatsoever. So, I believe that I’ll hop back in my car and head home to my lovely wife, kids, grandkids, friends, and neighbors who are working valiantly on “face lifting” our home.

For those that are interested in my day-by-day, blow-by-blow account of what happens now that I’ve begun the chemo, I’ll try to post brief updates each day, of what I encounter.

Thanks so much for the good thoughts, love, prayers, faith, acts of kindness and support. As I've said before, with that kind of support, the outcome cannot help but be excellent !

Love and best wishes to you all,

Dave