Not enjoying this bit of chemo much
Previous rounds of chemo have been largely non-events for me - no nausea, slight side effects around the gut and brain but not much of a big deal. This has changed with my new infusion of carfilzomib. I'm taking it along with Revlimid and it has some odd effects. For starters, it makes me progressively more dopy as the infusion - which takes half an hour - progresses. It feels, I imagine, a bit like being executed slowly as I gradually lose the power to think. I should probably stop driving myself home from the appointments. It kills my appetite, too which is something I don't enjoy - no nausea but no hunger, either.
It costs a bloody fortune and I am very grateful to Medicare for footing the bill. (It would cost less had a previous US government not forbidden Medicare to negotiate prices with drug companies, an immensely incomprehensible idea.) I suspect that it would not be available in New Zealand at all though I could be wrong. My various blood counts are healthy so I guess there is just one - probably the dread M-spike - that they are trying to get under control.
We're going through a bit of fun and games at home, too. Susan got mightily rear ended over the weekend by a young man who we can only imagine was either playing with his phone or asleep at the wheel. He has accepted responsibility but it still leaves us with just one car to share between 3 drivers - we don't know if her Accord is going to be declared a write-off or if the panel shop thinks they can straighten it out. It is a right mess. So now we have to decide what to get to replace it, assuming it is a write-off and we have to go and get a rental car to take its place for a while as we wait to see how much Nationwide thinks a pristine 2009 Accord is worth. I hate buying cars at the best of times.
Meanwhile, I am not the only one in the wars. My brother Bob has got colon cancer (which appears to have been more than adequately treated in Canada) and school buddy Alan has got something similar to mine though the Brits are less than enthused about giving him a transplant. What the hell is in Southend tap water? Or perhaps the bracing sea breezes that blow from the Canvey oil refineries are to blame. I'm off to Vancouver on Saturday to spend a few days with Bob & his family - been a long time and I'm looking forward to it. Best of all, by pure fluke it happens to be a week when I am not being treated.
It costs a bloody fortune and I am very grateful to Medicare for footing the bill. (It would cost less had a previous US government not forbidden Medicare to negotiate prices with drug companies, an immensely incomprehensible idea.) I suspect that it would not be available in New Zealand at all though I could be wrong. My various blood counts are healthy so I guess there is just one - probably the dread M-spike - that they are trying to get under control.
We're going through a bit of fun and games at home, too. Susan got mightily rear ended over the weekend by a young man who we can only imagine was either playing with his phone or asleep at the wheel. He has accepted responsibility but it still leaves us with just one car to share between 3 drivers - we don't know if her Accord is going to be declared a write-off or if the panel shop thinks they can straighten it out. It is a right mess. So now we have to decide what to get to replace it, assuming it is a write-off and we have to go and get a rental car to take its place for a while as we wait to see how much Nationwide thinks a pristine 2009 Accord is worth. I hate buying cars at the best of times.
Meanwhile, I am not the only one in the wars. My brother Bob has got colon cancer (which appears to have been more than adequately treated in Canada) and school buddy Alan has got something similar to mine though the Brits are less than enthused about giving him a transplant. What the hell is in Southend tap water? Or perhaps the bracing sea breezes that blow from the Canvey oil refineries are to blame. I'm off to Vancouver on Saturday to spend a few days with Bob & his family - been a long time and I'm looking forward to it. Best of all, by pure fluke it happens to be a week when I am not being treated.
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