Round 8
Originally published at bcvsbc.blogspot.com on 10/27/18
Going to the Oncology Department is a whirlwind of emotions because the patients there are all dealing with some form of chronic disease. The department straddles the line between hope or fear, the known and unknown, happiness or depression, and eventually life or death. Each time you walk through the door you are one side of the line or questioning where you think you should be. I know I have said over and over again that the only thing I have control over with cancer is my attitude and it is never more true than when you sit down in your infusion chair to get stuck with another hit of chemotherapy.
Each patient is different: a different location that the cancer is located, a different type and stage. All of this plays into the expected outcome of your prognosis and the types of medicines you will receive. My time in the infusion chair has only brought me face to face with one other patient that had breast cancer. I find it ironic with how prevalent the disease is. She was 62, stage 1, HER2+ and lucky enough to have had a tiny tumor that was removed by a lumpectomy. That was my second round. Since that round I have met quite a few fellow cancer warriors all battling different types. The most common seems to be in the colon that metastasizes to the liver or lungs...one of the people I have run into a few times is Josephina. Her cancer has spread to her lungs. The first time I met her she was a ray of sunshine. She is 72 years old, has the cutest Spanish accent (think Selma Hyack), and is stage 4.
Most often the infusions take a few hours so if you are chatty, which I MIGHT be, you get to know others pretty quickly. Josephina thought she was going to die immediately. Yet, here we are 3 years after her diagnosis and she is hanging on. When we first met months ago she explained she was hoping to get approved for a clinical trial of a new target chemo drug. This would be similar to what I am know taking, Herceptin, but for the tumors growing in her lungs specifically. She was very excited about this and was heading to Walnut Creek that next week for testing. Yesterday when I sat down in my infusion chair Josephina was in the opposite one. I was so excited! We hadn't seen each other in a few rounds and I was anxious to find out how she was doing with the trial. Unfortunately I found out she was not eligible for the trial.
Cancer is a fickle beast. It does its damnedest to take over your body and you do your damnedest to prevent it from being able to spread. The majority of clinic trials do not want patients that have cancers that have spread, or if they have spread are too close to end of life. Josephina was in both of those categories so it prevented her for getting accepted. Her once infectious laughter was gone yesterday. She was so depressed and I could tell that she had given up. I sat there and felt like a complete jerk. I was getting the type of drug cancer patients are all hoping to get. It reminded me of the movie about Herceptin, Living Proof, when the patients mom is hysterical and begging the doctor to get her daughter back on the trial before she dies. I don't take for granted that I am lucky to be HER2+, lucky to have Herceptin, not something I thought at the start of this unbelievable journey...as Josephina and I talked I did find out that they had switched her cocktail and it was shrinking her tumors in her lungs. That was exciting to me and I did my best to get her to realize that but she can't let go of not getting a target therapy medicine.
It is hard sometimes to sit in that infusion chair. First it was because of the unknown; how was I going to respond, how sick would I be. Then it was hard because I knew what was going to happen and I just did not want to sit back down. Now it is hard because I know the people sitting next to me in those chairs and I wonder every time I leave if I will ever see them again. Yesterday when I left Josephina I gave her a hug and told her to "be strong" and "don't give up", things everyone says to someone with cancer as if we have any control over if or when it will come back to end our lives and it just felt like so little.
My heart just hurts. Round 8 was hard because of I came to the realization that I may start to lose some of these people that I have come to love. I don't know why this hit me so hard yesterday after I left.
This disease is loathsome. I can say that cancer has infiltrated every aspect of my life and nothing is sacred to it. That , the way it spreads in and out of the body is why this disease just sucks. If it doesn't get you, then it gets the people next to you. I'm beyond frustrated. I told Josephina I would be back in three weeks and I better see her then. My fingers are crossed she will be there.