The day after the first chemo treatment.

So yesterday was the first day of chemotherapy.  Man that just sounds so strange, so surreal, even typing it out.  Went down with my wife and father, who wanted to come.  It went fine for the most part -- there was some confusion about my medications that freaked me out a bit, though.  The way the Mayo Clinic does this treatment and the way the RMCC does it are just slightly different -- mostly in how and when you are supposed to take the Dexamethasone.  I had taken it Friday morning, as directed by Dr. F and the Mayo Clinic, but apparently the usual way the RMCC does it is to take it the day before (only a partial dose) and then the rest with the Velcade shot.

Got it cleared up that afternoon, however, so now I just await the results and next Friday's session.

Not the best Thursday night.

Today was actually going OK, all things considered, until this evening.  Amy and I got back from dinner and I called my father back (he had left a message during dinner) who offered to go with me to chemotherapy tomorrow.  He sounded pretty broken up but I told him it wasn't necessary and it would be an in-and-out deal.  I just want to put on a game face, get in, get done and get out and save the emotional breakdowns for home, which I'm afraid I won't be able to avoid with everyone around me in shock at what I'm about to start having to do.

Wednesday.

Sort of a zombie today.  Again spending a lot of emotional effort just not thinking about things, outside of when I have to.  Left a message last night for Dr. M at the MC and this morning for Dr. F at RMCC because I feel like there's a disconnect between what I'm being told to do with all of this medication (when to take it, etc.) caused by yesterday's meeting with the nursing guy.  Heard back from a nurse who works with Dr. M. who basically said use as per Dr. F's instructions, which isn't exactly "taking charge of my care" in my mind.  The nurse up there also said they have received nothing yet from RMCC, which is annoying.

Have errands to run for my wife's birthday tomorrow.

Bad Night.

Bad night ... stressed out, short temper, the works. I think it's the reality of picking up all of these pills at the pharmacy on the way home.  Now they're just sitting on my desk like the grim reaper.  Feel super tense tonight ever since I put Ariana to bed and I can't shake it off even when I'm not thinking about any of this.

Have two minor adjustments to make to my medication, so glad I went and got the stuff tonight.  There's a more effective version of one of the nausea meds (a version that dissolves under the tongue and hits you quicker), and they only gave me 1 week's worth of one of the three chemotherapy drugs with no refills (the 10-pills a dose steroid).  The pharmacy tech was nice, although she offered me the obligatory "sorry" about having to take all of this stuff.  I understand, it's just a hard reaction to hear so much lately.  I'm sorry too, folks.  Not quite as sorry as my daughter will be that she didn't have a daddy because he died of cancer, but yeah.

Chemo-educated.

Had my chemotherapy "class" this morning with the head of nursing at the cancer clinic I'll be doing my chemotherapy at.  He was nice and calming, and walked me through what to expect, side effects, what to do in certain scenarios, etc.  I should probably go pick my pharmacy's worth of drugs today, although I'll admit I'm a bit freaked out by the concept.  If frigging Anthem BCBS hadn't broken with Walgreens at least I could have gone to a drive thru, but now I have to stand in line with a compromised immune system with a ton of sick, nosy people while I pick up like 10 prescriptions.  Which being King Soopers will be handled with the delicacy, privacy and professionalism I would expect if I were having my scripts filled at Grease Monkey.

Sigh.

"Yay, chemotherapy week!" Said nobody, ever.

So I started a CaringBridge site at the recommendation of a friend who's been super supportive during all of this and had some great recommendations for me so far.  I thought a blog made more sense to me personally, however, seeing as how I've blogged for half my life and I like the ability to interact via comments, etc.  Same concept, slightly different implementation, and here we are.  Although technically right now "we" is just me since nobody I know has this address and I'm reluctant, for a few reasons, to open this particular Pandora's Box to everyone I know just yet.

I can't even really explain that thought except that I feel like in doing so perhaps this becomes even more brutally real than it is right now.

Eight Days.

Met with the local oncologist today and it went well, all things considered.  I mean I still have cancer and it wasn't all some elaborate hoax, but the meeting went well =/  We chose the CyBorD treatment option, which is apparently a ridiculous amount of pills once a week as well as a Velcade shot, a monthly IV infusion of zoledronic acid for bone strength and "survival advantage," and 1000 units of Vitamin D and 1 to 1.5g calcium daily.  On top of that I have two strengths of anti-nausea medications and an anti-Shingles drug (at high risk due to the chemo treatment, apparently).

So I start in 8 days, next Friday.  I guess I just take all of the 3 chemo drugs in one day, not sure on the rest yet.  I have a "class" to attend early next week to go over my chemotherapy, side effects, etc.

"Joygasm."

Slightly more 'hurry up and wait.'

Talked to the local oncologist's assistant here and have an appointment Thursday afternoon to get things rolling with the chemotherapy.  A little nervous about how that will go but fingers crossed -- I'm at a pretty high stress level and it would be nice if something would go my way with all of this right now.  Unfortunately my original hope, which is to be able to do my weekly chemotherapy treatments at their SkyRidge location but keep him as my local doctor, sounds like it's a no-go. 

Still going to push for it since a weekly trip to Rose is a good 1.5 hour round-trip commute at best, while SkyRidge is 20 minutes round-trip.  Seeing as how I'm having a doctor at the Mayo Clinic direct my care anyways I'm not sure what the benefits of just finding a doctor at their SkyRidge location is ... I guess Rocky Mountain Cancer Center isn't a group the way I thought it was, but we'll see.

Meeting a therapist to work through the emotional and mental issues related to all of this Friday, waiting to have a endoscopy scheduled with my GI guy to rule out some things they saw on the CAT scan that the oncologists want checked out. 

Through all of this I actually feel really good (most likely a function of a vastly cleaner diet for the past 4-5 months), which makes this all so hard to swallow.  I'm on the precipice of embarking on a very scary, very serious road and I don't feel the slightest bit sick.  Kind of broke down for a moment on the couch last night talking about this with Amy ... there we are, sitting and having dinner on the couch and watching some Food Network show similar to our usual routine for quite a while, except it's all different now because the sense of normalcy is just an illusion, is just us pretending for a moment that this isn't all happening.

Makes it hard to enjoy even a peaceful moment.

Waiting for the Sentencing.

Today has been bittersweet.  Talked to a few friends today about everything that's going on, but waiting for the local oncologist who will be handling my day-to-day stuff to get back to me regarding starting chemotherapy.  The doctor in charge of my care up at the Mayo Clinic in MN (Dr. M.) talked to him yesterday but I have yet to hear from him, and I'm antsy about it.  She emailed me yesterday that they got along great but that he preferred another cocktail of drugs to what she recommended ... Dr. M. at the MC thinks I should start chemotherapy with CyBorD (cyclophosphamide, bortezomib/Velcade, dexamethasone) while apparently Dr. F. here locally is going to make a case for VRD (bortezomib/Velcade, Revlimid, dexamethasone). 

Dr. M. had noted in our visit with her that given almost equal success rates with either treatment, that she'd rather save Revlimid (the big and newest "gun" in the MM arsenal) in her back pocket for later down the road.  That makes sense to me.  Either way I woke up at 3 am last night and the first thought that entered my head was how to deal with this discussion and I didn't get back to sleep the rest of the night.  I'm sure it will go well but having never dealt with referrals and all this, and being wired to not want to step on people's toes, I'm just anxious about it.

Anxious about not hearing from him yet either.  Not like I'm all psyched up to start chemotherapy, but I would let to get this show on the road now that the thinking, meeting and testing is mostly done.