Starting at the end of the story: I'm sitting in the waiting room at the clinic on Monday waiting for my velcade shot. Nurse Patty, whom I've known for most of my years of treatment comes in, chart in hand, announcing, "Dan? Dan?" I waive my hand and stand up to accompany her into the treatment room. She whispers to me, "oh, I was hoping it wasn't you." I look at her quizically. "What are you talking about? Is something wrong?" I had already received my blood counts for the day and met with the doctor. I was told everything was fine. She says, "you're getting velcade. I'm so sorry." I again respond, "I don't understand. What's wrong." She says, "I thought you were done with treatment." "Oh, you thought I was in remission and have now come out of it?" "Exactly," she says, "you looked so good, and still do. You don't look like you've come out of remission." I told her that I haven't had a day of remission in 5 1/2 years and was quite excited about starting velcade as it might help reduce my residual myeloma before my donor leukocyte infusion (DLI). So, she feels bad and I feel good about my getting treatment. And that's the way it goes.
Much to my surprise, they boosted the velcade with steroids once again. A much smaller dose of both, I'm told, although I certainly felt the effects of both in the past 2 days. I think it only goes to show how strong this stuff is. My body has handled some fairly heavy doses of chemo over the years but now that I've had a chance to clean out for a few months, I can feel its power. That's good I suppose.
Mike starts his injections in a few weeks so we're on track for my DLI at MDA in January. Rifkin finally gave me permission to go to the health club--with a number of restrictions. Still it feels good to be "allowed" to start waking up my muscles. I'm not sure which has a larger circumference, my biceps or my ankles--the proverberial 98 lb. weaking. It's all Big Fella's fault.
Happy Halloween to all.
Dan
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
You are a champ Dan. I have been getting treatment for almost 13 months now and I cannot imagine 5.5 years of this. Thanks for chronicling your journey.
Looking at your picture I can't picture you at 98 lbs... I sure that is just an exaggeration but I do feel for you. I've dropped 35 lbs since April but by choice. I hope all goes well and keep us posted... Maybe a new picture posted?
Dear Dan, Susan and family,
One of these days....I'm coming with hot tea for all.... love you and never doubted you would do it....
Hugs,
Sailor
Have you had your allo sct yet? I am prepping for one in January at MD Anderson. Tricia
I have read your blog off and on for the past year. I can sense that despite your obvious fears, you have an amazing drive within you to beat this! I'm sure there have been many days that you just wanted to say enough, be angry and feel sorry for yourself, but you seem to just keep going! I have admired that...
I am glad to hear that you have some "stability" at this point. I pray that you will gain strength and the Valcade will get rid of those nasty Myeloma cells.
I feel apprehensive about saying this, but my dad lost his battle to Myeloma in July. I guess that is why I feel a connection even though we are complete strangers! Please know that I will be praying for you and your wife. For strength where you need it, a sense of peace, and of course - for healing.
This was one of my dad's favorite song during his fight. I hope it would bring you just a little bit of comfort.
http://www.onlylyrics.com/hits.php?grid=11&id=1037480
Post a Comment