I finally heard back from someone about the PET scans and the schedule. Naturally, I realized halfway home that I left all of my notes at work, so here’s what I’ve got from memory.
Basically, the PET scan sucked. It still shows the uptake in my chest, which means there’s still cancer there. What Dr. C wants to do is give me a harsher form of chemo. I’ll be back on the ifosfamide (the one that screwed with my bladder), only this time it will be matched up with gemcytobine (which is either another name for the gemzar I’ve had or something new, depending upon how it’s spelled) and navalbine (or navelbine which is something else that starts with a V but isn’t the “V” in ABVD – it’s something new). The trick to this chemo? I’m going to have to be in the hospital for it.
The nurse practitioner is the one who finally called me back and she said I would be in the hospital 4-5 days as the treatment was being given to me. The two main reasons for the hospital stay are that it’s going to be a rougher chemo than the others I’ve had and because at least one of them is on a really long drip cycle, so they have to keep me there while they give it to me.
When will this fun start? Well, now we’re back into the fuzzy haze of the future. She said it all depends on what the oral surgeons say. Tomorrow when my sandinista gets liberated, I have to ask the oral surgeon approximately how long it will take me to heal. This seems like a strange thing to ask, since people heal at different rates, and I figure that’s what he’s going to tell me. Whatever tentative date he says, I’ll call Yale and give them that date and they’ll set me up for chemo on the very next day. The NP didn’t think I’d need a really long time to heal, estimating that they’d probably be seeing me late next week. If so, that could work out well, since straddling the weekend would mean two less days of work I’d miss.
Of course, getting all of this arranged would have to find a way to throw a wrench in our plans somehow, right? Of course it does! Next weekend is Kevin’s birthday in Boston that Barb was going to be participating in. Naturally, she’s already reserved and paid for a room down there too. Oh boy! So in addition to all of this, she’s a) not going to get a break to have some fun and b) going to have to deal with the hotel people.
So now the question remains: Is it time to fall to my knees, rend my garments and shout up to the heavens “Why God, WHHYYYYYY?” Well, I considered the possibility for a bit, running through my options after the phone call. But come on – have you been reading this site? I’m a badass. Things will happen when they happen as they will happen and I will continue plugging along, proving to cancer who the boss is.
Hint: It’s not Tony Danza.