Half Empty or Half Full?
This is really one of those rhetorical questions… is my treatment glass half empty or half full? And I don’t have an answer.
Yesterday was my chemotherapy day… a much-shortened version of it. Instead of six hours with the Taxol – Carboplatin – Avastin combination, I was finished in half an hour with Avastin only. I am still trying to decide whether this decision by my oncologist represents a failure of the “big gun chemicals” to achieve the desired result, or just an adjustment in the treatment plan. I would have liked to be more involved in the decision-making… to have been consulted rather than a unilateral decision made about my healthcare.
There exists a vast disconnect, not only between my doctor and me, but also between doctor and nurses. I saw my doctor last week but wasn’t told that I didn’t need to take the preparatory steroids for this round of chemotherapy. I had to call the nurse hotline to find out for myself. Then yesterday the infusion nurse was preparing to give me Avastin plus Zometa, which I had already received the prior week. (It is given every three to four weeks.) So it was again up to me to alert the nurse to that fact… “No, I don’t get Zometa today.” I also found this on the Zometa website: While you are receiving treatment with ZOMETA‚ it is important to take certain dietary supplements daily. You should take a multivitamin that contains 400 IU of Vitamin D. You should also take an oral calcium supplement of at least 500 mg. No one at the Infusion Center had given me that information. I only mention these things because I think it is important to know. It is absolutely essential that the patient and spouse (or partner) pay attention to every detail in the healthcare that is given. There have been far too many oversights to make me feel comfortable. My life will be shortened as it is, without putting it to additional risks. That is the half empty version. The half full version is as follows…
There is no need now for weekly blood draws. I will see my oncologist every six weeks rather than once a month, and the chemotherapy will take less than an hour once every three weeks. That means only two days in October are scheduled, giving me more personal freedom. Bob and I will enjoy taking long autumn drives into the North Cascades, and I can fully concentrate on writing my memoir. I would be happy about this if I didn’t suspect that I have been relegated to the “life-extending” stage of my cancer treatment. Perhaps that is all that I have ever had.
... PLM
Yesterday was my chemotherapy day… a much-shortened version of it. Instead of six hours with the Taxol – Carboplatin – Avastin combination, I was finished in half an hour with Avastin only. I am still trying to decide whether this decision by my oncologist represents a failure of the “big gun chemicals” to achieve the desired result, or just an adjustment in the treatment plan. I would have liked to be more involved in the decision-making… to have been consulted rather than a unilateral decision made about my healthcare.
There exists a vast disconnect, not only between my doctor and me, but also between doctor and nurses. I saw my doctor last week but wasn’t told that I didn’t need to take the preparatory steroids for this round of chemotherapy. I had to call the nurse hotline to find out for myself. Then yesterday the infusion nurse was preparing to give me Avastin plus Zometa, which I had already received the prior week. (It is given every three to four weeks.) So it was again up to me to alert the nurse to that fact… “No, I don’t get Zometa today.” I also found this on the Zometa website: While you are receiving treatment with ZOMETA‚ it is important to take certain dietary supplements daily. You should take a multivitamin that contains 400 IU of Vitamin D. You should also take an oral calcium supplement of at least 500 mg. No one at the Infusion Center had given me that information. I only mention these things because I think it is important to know. It is absolutely essential that the patient and spouse (or partner) pay attention to every detail in the healthcare that is given. There have been far too many oversights to make me feel comfortable. My life will be shortened as it is, without putting it to additional risks. That is the half empty version. The half full version is as follows…
There is no need now for weekly blood draws. I will see my oncologist every six weeks rather than once a month, and the chemotherapy will take less than an hour once every three weeks. That means only two days in October are scheduled, giving me more personal freedom. Bob and I will enjoy taking long autumn drives into the North Cascades, and I can fully concentrate on writing my memoir. I would be happy about this if I didn’t suspect that I have been relegated to the “life-extending” stage of my cancer treatment. Perhaps that is all that I have ever had.
... PLM
posted by Looking for Hope | 2:40 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home