A more serious gaze and a reminder of how many more eyebrow hairs I had at one time.
The twelfth treatment was calm and smooth.
Monday, May 15 was new treatment day. It started with the pretreatment, which I think was just an anti nausea and a steroid. The regular immunotherapy was next and then the first of the new chemotherapy treatments, doxorubicin, aka adriamycin, aka—and I kid you not, “The Red Devil” due to its red color and probably rough side effects. The nurse needs to administer it very slowly, by hand.
My immune system decided it wanted nothing to do with it. Within less than 5 minutes, I felt a tingling accross the bridge of my nose, and then a burning in the same place. The nurse calmly asked Matt if he could please press the red button. This called any available nurse and the pharmacist to my infusion room. One took notes as the symptoms progressed. The others saw redness on my face, a rash on my chest and down my arms and swelling on my eyelids and around my mouth. I also felt a strange sensation on my tongue at the back of my mouth.
That reaction was a surprise to the team. To calm it down, they administered “rescue medications” including more saline, Benadryl, Dexamethasone (a steroid), and Famotidine (Pepcid). These worked. They stopped treatment for the day and had to waste most of the adriamycin “red devil” and all of the the next chemotherapy, cytaxol, that was ready to go.
Note: These two are still available but there is a shortage of some chemotherapy drugs. I was extremely lucky to receive the last set.
Monday, May 22 was the the second attempt at administering doxorubicin/adriamycin. I got the rescue medications infused first, plus saline at the same time. Again, maybe 5 minutes into it, the nurse saw that my the skin on my thinning eyebrows looked red. Matt said it looked like little devil horns. I guess I’m taking on the devil part of this treatment. 😆 Again, the treatment was stopped and the rest was wasted. It was a small, test amount, so much less was wasted. Plus, my body accepted the Cytoxan.
The plan now is to have the insurance company approve liposomal doxorubicin for subsequent treatment. Fat incases the medicine, hiding it from my devil of an immune system.
It was about time I had something exciting to share. Right?!
Thank you for being my care team from afar. I appreciate your kindness, prayers, and good qì sent.
Love,
D’Arcy
Oh my! What an experience! The treatment team is sure on top of things. I am so grateful there is another option to try. I like the idea of cloaking the medicine to it can sneak past your immune system so it can do it’s magic. My heart is full of good wishes!
Thank you so much, Ed. I’m a fan of heart-filled wishes! ✨❤️✨
Wow D’Arcy, what a process. Your immune system is being too good of a body guard, I guess! Too bad it’s hard to call off the troops once they’ve mounted an immune response. That sounds like a rather troubling scenario, all around.
Red Devil! Yikes. The liposomal option sounds like the ticket, when will you know if its approved by the insurance company? It certainly is medially necessary so I hope they give the thumbs up sooner than later.
I had no idea about the drug shortages, that is just wild. Thanks for sharing that article.
Sending every one of your cells much good qì, D’Arcy! I hope your spirits stay lifted and open to the joys of springtime, despite these obstacles. Thank you for keeping us updated on your journey.
April! Thank you so much for your kindness and good qì. We’re in a waiting and then decision period. I learned that the liposomal option will probably be avoided as well because it turns out that it’s still possible to have a reaction, to which which my body is very inclined.
My spirits were hit a bit but have rebounded and I’m sure it has to do with all the love, kindness, and compassion sent my way by you and others in so many ways. Thank you!
You don’t know me but your mother-in-law is my niece by marriage.😉 I’ve been keeping you in my prayers & reading your posts. Both of my sons battled cancer in various treatments so as a mother I can relate to your situation. It’s definitely a rollercoaster ride experience! Hang in there!
Hello Ila, ☺️ thank you so much and I appreciate your prayers! My heart goes out to you. I’ve been learning many people are touched when a loved one has cancer. ❤️
Oh my goodness! What an adventure you’re having! Pretty scary, but I assume the docs have antidotes stashed nearby.
You must be glad to be ending the first set of treatments. Congrats on getting through all of that!
Thank you, Ellen. ☺️ It’s been a bit of a challenge but I too am sure the next steps will reveal themselves soon. 🌟