The Day before Cancer Treatment

The Day before Cancer Treatment

When I began treatment for lung cancer in January of 2013, I had a whole crew of people in line to drive me to Indianapolis.  It took six hours for the treatment alone.  That did not count the period of time it took to get blood drawn and the visit with the oncologist that always took place before treatment could occur.  The day before was a flurry of logistical arrangements.   My daughter or son or both would go with me and my grandsons often went too. 

My grandsons went along because there was no one to take them to school or to watch them when they got out of school.  One time, my old friend, Rita and my daughter Rita took me down to Indy.  That was a looooong day.    They spent their time looking over the many caps and turbans on display at the IU Simon Cancer Care Center while I spent six hours being infused with carboplatin, taxol and avastin.   

Physically, I would feel fairly good after three weeks of nausea, leg problems (I would eventually develop neuropathy) fatigue, headaches and dehydration.   It seemed that I would just begin to feel good again and it was time for another treatment and the YUCKS would begin again.  

That was when I was on chemotherapy and had to be driven 3 hours each way to Indianapolis.  Lucky for me that only went on for four cycles.  I then went into remission.

Tomorrow I have treatment here in Fort Wayne.   The treatment takes place every two weeks.   I am now on the drug Nivolumab, an immunotherapy drug that causes few side effects.  Note, that I wrote few- not any.   I do get dehydrated- I do feel tired and lethargic- it is not a picnic, but it isn’t the onslaught of chemo either and I am grateful for that.  

I decided to write about this because yesterday I read a comment on Facebook about an old friend of mine.  His wife was also a neighbor and the best childhood friend of one of my sisters.   My friend has cancer and their days are long and arduous.   I don’t think many people really understand how difficult the logistics of cancer treatment can be and how little support there is for that.   Family is wonderful, and mine are great, but the overload cannot be overstated.  

I am happy that now I can have my son drop me off for my treatment and have my daughter pick me up when I am done.   I am still in good enough shape to have this luxury.   I wanted to drive myself, but since I have to take Benadryl with my treatment I am not allowed to- very aggravating.  At point’s friends and even people I have never met have offered to help me – and Cancer Services of Northeast Indiana  and the American Cancer Society   both provide transportation for those who cannot get to treatments on their own- but again much goes into working out those details.

I know that anyone who deals with a serious illness confronts these obstacles- and as time wears on those involved in helping survivors of any type often become burdened and worn out. 

 

The mechanics of cancer is just another spoke in the wheel of surviving.