Wednesday, May 18, 2011


Shake rattle and roll everybody.


It’s 2055 and all the families are getting their last hugs and kisses before going home. Even though visiting hours are supposed to end at 2030, that’s really more of a guideline than a strict rule.

Mom’s and daughters seemed dressed to the nines in floral prints dresses, beige skirts, and fashionable conservative slacks to visit their husbands, fathers and grandfathers.

Many of the conversations are clear, direct, and unambiguous. “Do what the doctor’s say and let’s get you home. We need you.”

Fathers, brothers, and sons take the chastisement. They offer no excuses, and commit to working harder and cooperating more the next day.

“You’re right,” one man says.

6B is the cancer ward. Every minute there is a success and a failure; a glimmer of hope and a setback; a future developing or a roadblock appearing so huge it is daunting.

It’s all here.

At about 5 pm I began my chemo and immediately had a setback. It all started with a chill – just a little too much air conditioning I thought. The chills spread from my shoulders to my legs with each second bring on more violent mini-spasms. With in seconds I was in a full-blown shaking fit like if I had suffered hypothermia. It was uncontrollable shaking from head to toe.

My doctor, who happened to be there, ordered Demerol and turned off the chemo. Three nurses and my doctor worked to get more Demerol in me. Soon by bits and pieces the shaking stopped, leaving me depleted.

I thought that would be the end of it all for Wednesday night – it wasn’t. The doctor’s and nurses decided that it was best to let me rest and then start again immediately.

I was especially skeptical. My thinking was we’ve already had one shaking fit, called rigors, so why tempt fate and do it again. There view was not to waste time and to take advantaged of the chemo already in my body and accept risk. Their view was that my body had been calmed with Demerol and that my body was used to the drug now.

I told them I was skeptical, but was reassured and I deferred to their recommendation. It is now 2130 and they steadily increased my chemo drip and I haven’t any shaking fits.  I guess we’ll see.

Chemo is not an 8 to 5 operation. It goes on 24/7. There are drugs that have to be matched and complemented to get the best result. The drugs have to be matched and timed together.

That means there is no sleep for the chemo patient.


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