Chemo Therapy Begins

The following is a summary of my last week, written chronologically. I threw in a little theology at the end, probably the best part to read. If you’re short on time, I’d skip to the bottom of the post to see what I say.

Tuesday, October 30

Prior to my first chemo session, I got a flu shot for the first time in my life. I wanted to cover all my bases even though with my decision, I’ve joined the ranks of the “never vaccine group” making me a big compromiser :).  Oh well, my mom was always on me to get one, but I resisted, up until now. Finally caved.

Thursday, November 1

I started my first chemo therapy session this afternoon. After meeting with a nurse, I was led to a large room in which several other patients were receiving treatments, all delivered by IV’s of some sort. I sat in my chair and was presented with 15 pills to consume, a combination of steroids and a chemo drug.

“Did you want to watch me take these for your records?”

“Oh no, not necessary.”

Funny how this setting made me think back to eating dinner as a child, with vegetables, like lima beans, on my plate. I didn’t want to eat them, so I came up with a plan. The first step was to slide them around the plate near the perimeter to give the impression I was “making progress.” Then, I would discreetly move them off the plate, sliding them under, and eventually off the table to a waiting dog.

After consuming the pills, the nurse approached me holding a syringe which would deliver the liquid chemo drug. I rolled up my arm sleeve to receive the injection. The nurse shook her head sideways.

“This injection goes in your stomach,” she said.

“It goes where?” I’m thinking you’ve got to be kidding. I wasn’t prepared for this, but that was probably a good thing for me not to know ahead of time.

“It goes in your stomach, but you have a choice- left or right side.”

I told her the left side would be fine. As she began the injection, I looked around the room. Everyone else, like I said, was hooked up to IV’s. I was merely getting an injection that would be over in 2 minutes. My experience was pretty “weak tea” compared to theirs.

Jenny left the room temporarily. I think this was a tipping point for her. She just lost her sister to cancer this last summer. My mom, who lived on our property, died a little over a year ago. She needed constant care which  Jenny gave lovingly and faithfully to her as part of the care giving team. My journey, which started last May, has been so hard on her to watch. My wife is strong and applied her care giving ways to me. I couldn’t ask for better. I need to tell you, though, that if I had not been so stubborn in rationalizing early symptoms, this could have been easier on both of us.

As the nurse injected me with Velcade, the liquid chemo drug, she began a conversation as a way of taking my mind of what she was doing. We talked about family, adult children, grandchildren, regular stuff. This made me think of an encouraging text we received just shortly before arriving for this first treatment. It was from a couple we met at Amyloidosis meeting we attended a month ago.

The text read,

I’m sending you a big hug.

Chemo saved my husband’s life. Here is why it is worth the fight for us. We got to see our darling “little grands” all dressed up to go trick or treating last night. Our grandaughter was only 3 years old, and her brother was just 16 months old when my husband was diagnosed and almost died. They’re now 7 1/2 and almost 6.

And then there’s our “big grands.”  One was born on our 30th wedding anniversary.  Because of Velcade, we got to go to his graduation. He’s turning 21 this month on our 51st anniversary. His brother is a senior this year. We went to his choir concert last week, and we will go to his graduation next year.

These are bonus years for us to spend together with each other and with our family. It’s worth the fight for us. Velcade may not cure Amyloidosis, but it turned off the Amyloidosis production and gave time for my husband’s organs to improve. It also bought him time for other drugs to be developed, one that he is currently taking. Who knows? Maybe it bought him time for a cure to be developed someday. That’s our prayer.

Her words express what I’m feeling and desiring- gaining time to enjoy the good things God has given me.

After treatment, Jenny and I went to PF Chang’s for an early dinner. I think it will be a final dinner out for me for a while as we enter the cold and flu season. My immune system will be taking a hit, a side effect from the chemo. I opened my fortune cookie. It read, “Your investment in time will lead to success later.” While not a big fan of fortune cookie or coffee mug theology, I’m taking the message at face value and hoping it’s right.

Little sleep Thursday night due to the steroids being taken so late in the day, maybe getting just 2 to 3 hours. But there was an upside to this. I had extra energy. I have always been a little on the manic side, so I’m told. While fatigued lately, I felt back in the saddle. Even Jenny noticed the spring in my step. Won’t last I’m sure since I’ll be cycling through on and off the steroids.  I went to work early in the morning and then, with minimal symptoms, to the Verizon store to get my upgraded iPhone configured. My millennial friends there set it up in minutes. Probably would have taken me all day. We really do need each other.

November 2-4

I’m getting more sleep but experiencing some gastro issues which is nothing new. The mild nausea I have is responding pretty well to peppermint tea, topical peppermint oil, and staying hydrated.

November 5, 2018

Since I’m going to be spending more time at home for the foreseeable future, I want to make the most of it. I have subscriptions to Netflix, streaming and discs, Amazon Prime, and audible. If and when the steroids keep me up at night, I’m set.  As a birthday gift, my family got me a new paperwhite, 300 ppi easy on the eyes, kindle. My youngest daughter, Katelyn threw in a tablet too. Along with my upgraded phone, my technological house is well appointed!  I won’t be missing any of the coming apocalypse as the republicans and democrats fight over control of the legislature.

Maybe as you read this, my comments may sound a little too casual, even to the point of being flip. Maybe they are. But I don’t really know how “to be” in this uncharted territory. I’m being treated similarly to the way Multiple Myeloma cancer is treated. Technically though, Amyloidosis is still not classified cancer, but it acts like it.

While I know this is my story, and all of you reading this are involved in my journey in one way or another, it’s ultimately a story about Jesus- his faithfulness, his gift of faith, his daily love, his never-ending mercies. Looked at this way, the focus and burden is off me. I’m not feeling an overwhelming need to be spiritually strong, exercise muscular faith, or work some kind of religious system to get God wake up to act on my behalf. No, the burden and focus of my life is placed right on Jesus where it belongs, and where he wants it.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10.

 I could say that Jesus is doing the “heavy lifting” in my life. To be more accurate, he’s doing all the lifting. This brings me comfort and freedom. I’d like to think that my changed attitudes and perspectives are the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, and that God is answering your continued prayers. And having said this though, I’m not backing off on asking you to continue to pray for healing, in whatever form it comes- divine, chemo, or complementary means. I will, of course, take remission as a solid, “runner up” second choice:).  I’m hopeful, but the outcome is God’s.

Thanks for all your support!

Curt