Back when this chemo cycle was first discussed with the oncologist, I was told that it would be 6 sets of treatment. For whatever reason I was booked in for 8 appointments. As it turned out, it doesn't really matter either way: visits to the doctors' and the hospital are pretty much the only time we leave the house (socially distanced dog walking aside) and we don't have a full social calendar to worry about, so a treatment session breaks up the fortnight, if truth be told. Mad that a chemotherapy appointment is something one would look forward to, but pandemics and lock-downs do a grand job of creating a new normal.
One of the impacts of lock-down (probably the same for many people), is that it is hard to distinguish one day from another. Hospital appointments thus provide a handy reference point for me to work out what day of a fortnight we are.
So, the cycle kicked off with a visit to the local surgery for bloodwork on Monday gone. The surgery waiting area was as quiet as ever, I think there was 1 other person sat in there. I was in and out with a minimum of fuss, and was walking back home even before my scheduled appointment time. Obviously swerving anyone coming the other way, and with mask to hand if needed. After that, the next marker was the oncology call 2 days later. Blood was all OK, but there was no news on the CEA marker: either the lab had not sent results back, or they had not taken the sample. Either way, no news is no news in this case, and I didn't have to deal with negatives at this time. Bottom line, the doctor signed me off for the next treatment, and also confirmed a CT scan for the following Monday. The scan is going to be a big deal.
Friday came around, and I headed back to Musgrove. They had changed up their protocols again: the nurse taking temperatures had been moved, and now all patients were required to sanitise hands (which I was doing anyway) and wear a mask. Rather than wandering down to the day unit, we were required to sit, socially distanced, in the main waiting area, until called by a nurse and walked down to the treatment area. Basically, sensible stuff, and no issue at all with compliance.
The nurse assigned to me for the day did ask if I minded her having a go on my chemo-port: how could I possibly say no? So, she went to work on it, with another nurse overseeing everything, and when that other nurse was busy, I walked her through it. Not sure it was wholly by the book, but we got there in the end. Another nurse, who I had met many times before, came over to tell me, and I quote, "I was thinking about you the other day, in a non-sexual way." Was not sure if I was supposed to be flattered or offended. The treatment all went OK, and soon enough I was back out and heading home.
One of the knowns re chemotherapy is that side-effects will aggregate cycle by cycle, and it was proved this go around. I spent the rest of the weekend wiped out, and had the old tingly hand thing pretty much every time I touched something cold. The novelty of feeling shit does wear off quite quickly, but the flip side to the argument is that if it makes me feel that rough, the hope is that it is doing something positive inside of me. Clearly the scan will tell. One benefit of the scan being booked for the Monday was that the pump disconnection was put to the Sunday as per the original cycle. Pump disconnection remains the highlight of every treatment fortnight, and to lose the device a day earlier than expected was a small slice of cheer.
Come Monday I was back at the hospital for the scan. That was all by the book as well, and was in and out in under 20 minutes, with the only issue again being the fear of peeing myself: the marker agent used has that lovely side effect.
And so, the waiting game until the scan results: due next Wednesday after the clinical team have had a look. The news might be anywhere on the spectrum from uplifting to horrific, and will determine what happens next. I have taken the view that since I can't change the outcome, I might as well not dwell on it, and instead have been busying myself with work and the dogs.