It was good to get yesterday out of the way. The Thriller is understandably weary (Opdivo side effect), and we discussed his getting a port in his chest for the treatments, instead of being needle-mined every two weeks. I’d post a photo of his arms, but I’m assuming most of you are reading this over morning coffee/breakfast, so…
Opdivo day started rather inauspiciously, but snarly traffic at 9:30 a.m. into Cleveland followed by a 3,000-year wait in the outer rooms while seemingly dozens of people who arrived after us were summoned sort of put me in a snippity mood (that wasn’t the case, of course, but still). It wasn’t my finest hour. I made it about me instead of him. I got to read the news on my phone while he endured the endless poking and jabbing.
I had asked our clinical trial nurse if I could speak to Dr. Velcheti when I got up there, and she responded that the best thing might be to just call him, so I’d decided to do that. When we got back to the exam room, intending to see the trial nurse and physician assistant only, Kayla appeared and summoned me into the hallway. She took me to a room, and there stood Dr. V, Erin the PA, and another doctor, ready to hear my questions and take their time with me. I almost got two sentences out before I bawled like the fool that I am.
I asked some questions that had been on my mind and the minds of Michael’s children, and got some good feedback. The Amazing Velcheti showed me some comparative scans, and told me that if the Opdivo didn’t work, there were other options to consider, which made me happy. It didn’t solve the ugly-crying issue, but I went back to the exam room with some renewed hope and resolve. Of course, the Thriller immediately said, “Why are you crying??” Oh, I dunno. Sometimes, what can’t be spoken with your mouth falls out your eyes. That, and I’m a big fat crybaby.
I hate that you have to get poison to destroy poison. I also hate that the poison they give you doesn’t always kill the poison that’s in you. Still, I’m grateful he has Opdivo as an option, and that he’s tolerating it bravely and resolutely.
As the Thriller is wont to say: Onward through the fog.
Sidebar: the stage floor was painted yesterday. Looks nice!
Much love today,