It’s only a 20 cc injection of Idarubicin (pushed over the course of 15 minutes), but it certainly is potent stuff (note the gloves and blue apron—the nurse also had matching blue goggles, but she preferred not to have her photo taken). I will have two more of these over the next two days and then ready myself for the next round of fun. (By “fun” I mean a clearing out of my bone marrow (and other rapidly growing cells), which will require blood transfusions, becoming neutropenic, staying in the hospital (which they are hoping to keep at a minimum by starting me on antibiotics early and a white blood cell booster called Neulasta—both next week), and other inadvertent side effects—not that I can lose any more hair, but the nausea and sleepless nights I could probably do without.)
The good news in all of this is that this will be my final round of chemotherapy. As long as my bone marrow behaves and continues to not translocate chromosomes 17 and 15 in the retinoic acid receptor gene, I should be able to go about my business in a month or so. Of course, I think I will always have a little corner in my mind that will always wonder why, if my body got it wrong before, won’t it get it wrong again. I guess it’s a price we pay for being ever evolving creatures.
5 Replies to “Finally, the fun begins”
Keeping my fingers crossed for you, Dan. Tell that bone marrow of yours to behave!
Our prayers are with you!
Yikes! That sounds pretty intense. But I do hope you are able to go on with your life after this, healthy and ready for the future God has for you. Praying for you.
I only recently discovered you had a blog going on here for your Leukemia & read all of them the other day…I must admit it brings back memories of my chemo 7 years ago. Gave me the willies!! I sure hope your recovery is quick! I went without hats(except for outside when it was below zero) or wigs.(couldn’t stand having anything on my head)
Bald is beautiful!!
I can relate to the thought “if my body got it wrong before, won’t it get it wrong again?”
When my brain tumor was first diagnosed, we were told that it would probably continue to grow and require surgical intervention every decade or so. Then, last summer, my neurologist said he thought it had been completely knocked out by the radiation treatments. I was doubtful, but hopeful. Cuz, yeah, if it mysteriously manifested itself once….
Knock on wood.
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