Today is the first day of treatment since my Medicare kicked in. I wasn’t sure how it would work out, so I checked in early with high hopes to manage expectations. They assured me, it’s all taken care of. They assured me. there’s no charge for today’s visits. Whew! I’m still keeping my fingers crossed.
I also saw my oncologist this morning. I had a nice chat with the nurse about our recent motorcycle trip up north, and we talked about my mother-in-law’s passing. I also learned that my doctor recently had covid, so we aren’t the only ones. It’s going around, even amongst those who have been vaccinated. He apparently caught it at a conference. We laughed about how he holed up in a hotel to quarantine from his family. Since he couldn’t go out for food, his wife would bring him meals and leave it on the floor outside the door “like I had leprosy.” The quarantine is worse than the virus, in some cases. My caregivers have been with me for more than five years now. We have developed a good rapport, so it’s always pleasant when I go and see them.
My doc said he has to reload both of my infusions during this treatment, because it’s been more than six weeks since my last treatment (thanks Covid 🙄). Yesterday was exactly six weeks. If I had come in on Tuesday, we could have just reloaded the one. Herceptin has to be reloaded after four weeks, and Perjeta after six weeks. We try not to do that, but times like these it’s hard to avoid.
It’s going to be a long wait. I have 90 minutes of Herceptin and 60 minutes of Perjeta. Usually it is 30 and 30. I’m going to hit The Woodlands during rush hour. Oy vey…
My computer is full of juice, I have my Diet Coke by my side, and a warm blanket is on my legs. I’m ready to go!
I forgot to put on my port cream, but Warren is a good nurse. I didn’t feel a thing. He got good blood return and no problems with the port. Thumbs up…👍.
While sitting here, I received a text from a friend, whose friend was just diagnosed with breast cancer. They found it on her first mammogram. Fortunately they caught it early, and she can have a lumpectomy. It doesn’t matter the stage, it’s still hard to hear.
I am always empathic toward those who are newly diagnosed. The emotions are overwhelming. If ever you have heard a doctor say the “c” word, you know what I’m talking about. I pray for these women, as it’s a tough road. It’s a change in identity. We are part of a club we never wanted to join. Fortunately, there are lots of treatment options and we are living longer than we ever have in the past. God has blessed some amazing people with great knowledge and skills to treat and even cure the worse of cancers.
À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!