Anti-pd1 Cycle 18

Anti-pd1, melanoma, clinical trial
Anti-pd1 Cycle 18

It’s been a month and today I’m back for anti-pd1 cycle 18, week 64! No stripping today, sorry folks.

I’m currently shivering under my blankets in infusion room. Brr! The liter of saline makes me chilly! Of course, there is a “popsicle patient” across from me (TH-302 trial) with ice packs in his armpits and groin. He’s also sucking on ice chips. I’m going to keep my mouth shut about being cold! It’s all about perspective!

Pager for cancer center appointments typos

“Welcome to$uhe University of Arizona Sancer Center N Campus”

I had to laugh at my pager this morning. I doubt this is the message the cancer center wants to send about their competency! Good thing I am an experienced patient and know this is not a reflection of the care!

I had a brain MRI yesterday and it looked good! My trial nurse went out of her way to call me with results yesterday so I didn’t have to face the anxiety waiting for my appointment today. I’m thankful for her understanding heart.

Port-a-cath

Assimilated. Resistance was futile.

Today’s labs included another to-do about how tiny my dual port-a-cath access is and how deep the bottom section is to access… it needs a longer needle… blah blah blah. It’s interesting how much nurses vary in their assessment of my port. I am learning which hills to die on with port access, but when to let the nurse’s instincts and concerns lead the way. A longer needle has never really been necessary, but if they feel more comfortable with it, I’m not going to argue. It does seem to cause trouble if I lie back and they try to access the port. I believe this is because of tissue moving when I’m reclined which interferes with the port access. So, I request to be upright when it’s accessed!

It did eventually get accessed, the seven tubes of blood drawn and after giving a urine sample-which prompted a tweet to the cancer center about needing a hook on the bathroom door, I was on my way! (Imagine me, laptop bag, coffee and urine  sample cup in a room with no shelves nor hooks. Wait. Don’t.)

I saw my nurse practitioner for a straightforward visit. Discussed allergy meds and she said my nose is a little inflamed with the new dog. Doh! She recommended an over the counter nose spray. Allergy meds will not interrupt my immune system. She explained the histamines they treat are not part of the cellular immune process which fights cancer. Oh college Martha, you should have taken cellular biology! 

I’m now finishing up my liter of fluid and about to get my lovely anti-pd1 (MK-3475) Then I’ll be out of here! Dose 18 done! Hi-yah! Take that melanoma!

Cancer center waiting area

Ready to have my port accessed, labs drawn, doctor check in, and infusion! Watch out cancer, here I come!

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My infusion chair had a lovely mountain view

 

Patient advocacy: Port-a-cath (aka Martha’s striptease)

Tales from the infusion room:

The group infusion rooms at Arizona Cancer Center hold four chemo La-Z-Boys, one in each corner. I was sitting on my side of the room during a recent visit and overheard the husband of a new patient asking the chemo nurse about a port-a-cath for his wife.. He was asking where they were placed and for details about surgery to have it placed. (For some reason my inclination is always to say my port was “installed” rather than placed. We are Borg, prepare to be assimilated!) He asked about the benefits and care for the port.

The chemo nurse kindly gave him great information, but sometimes it’s good to hear from another patient. (And sometimes I like to hear myself talk!) So, as this sweet couple in their late 60’s get up to leave her first infusion, I pipe up and get the husband’s attention. I told him that from my perspective, a port-a-cath can really make treatment easier and it’s saved my veins, which were building up scar tissue before I was even diagnosed with cancer. I asked if he wanted to see what it looked like. He was grateful for the input and said sure, he would be interested.

The wife is in the bathroom now, so I am only interacting with this gentleman. At this point, I look down and realize I am going to have to unbutton my henley and pull it down. I know I won’t be exposed, but it won’t appear that way to this man. I look over at Daniel, he raises his eyebrows at me, then I carefully unbutton, and show off my port! Anything in the name of advocacy!

It was worth it. I remained clothed (somewhat) modestly and the man and his wife thanked me for the perspective. Cancer is scary! We have to share our stories!

Here’s another post I’ve shared about my adventures with my Port-a-cath!