R-Chop 3

Well, as the weekend draws to a slightly sticky-warm ending, I find myself three days into my third R-Chop session.

It's been even more gentle on me than ever. In fact, I've probably taken only half the amount of antiemetics that I normally take. The chemo has, however, managed to cement my insides together and I'm running on a 50:1 input-to-output ratio again. Something must give at some point. If you see me running, do not follow.

I had a rather underwhelming appointment with the surgeon before my R-Chop treatment. It turned out that I just met his assistant - someone I had met before - a nice guy, but still a middle-man. We had a chat about these adhesions, which he seemed to be in agreement about but, as expected, there was little to do now, except take on his worldly advise of "try not to get constipated" and meet again in three months once the chemo sessions are over and we know where we stand. I didn't really expect much could be done at this stage ... at least it is logged and recorded as an ongoing concern. I am still trying to fathom out exactly how not to get constipated. Stop giving me fucking chemo would seem to be the obvious answer.

But apart from that, treatment-wise, it is, as our American friends say, "all good".

In fact, despite the fact that I know I'm looking at a huge drop-off around Wednesday, when the steriods finish, the stomach pain kicks-in and I will return to being a moaning bastard, overall I'm getting optimistically excited as after my next chemo session, we get to 'stop and scan' - meaning we'll take another CT-Scan to see what lies insides.

I know I'm winning this battle. My highs continue to get higher and my fitness, 'looks' and health are returning. I'm able to work longer, rest less and really enjoy my weekends and free-time, finding excitement in life again.

And that's saying something from this miserable bastard.

Whilst I don't *really* expect an end to this R-Chop this time around, I am optimistic that by the end of this year, I will be getting a break from the ongoing poison-recover-poison routine.

As they say in certain rooms that I used to frequent ... "a day at a time - more will be revealed".

so far, so not bad

Quick update. Still don't like talking about chemo. Despite choosing to write a blog about it. Oh, the irony.

So, how is the first R-Chop session treating me?

Well, so far the dreaded nausea has been somewhere between 4 to 6 out of 10. Which is good news.

I've actually only been sick a few times since Thursday and then, without meaning to get too graphic, it's more of a retch of acid than a full blow chunk-blower.

My getting-quite-good-at-being-a-dad-Dad came up for a few days and he commented on how much better I seemed and how much food I was eating ... I'm pleased to say that I'm eating well .. and took advantage to shovel lots of good food into me.

Getting things out the other end is proving a little more tricky still ... which can make me miserable ... but I won't dwell on that too much. The anti-sickness drugs don't help that situation either, so I've been really stringent with the amount I take. Which is no bad thing ... the less drugs the better. Gakking down 12 or so pills first thing every morning really is a grind.

I am reaching the end of the first phase of this chemo. I've been taking steroids and various drugs to keep me stable - these are now stopping and apparently this can make you feel worse for a while during a second phase that last around a week, but I can't actually see how it will make me feel nauseous ... tired/drained perhaps, but I am optimistic that it won't be worse 'sickness' wise (my pet hate).

I've been at work today (well, this afternoon) - which is pretty amazing - and have been quite 'on-the-ball' and a lot more 'physical' than before. The frustration comes when I'm piling on a bit of healthy pressure on myself,  running around the office, making phone calls, multi-tasking, 'getting moving' - then I suddenly find myself with strange stabbing pains returning in my chest, feeling sick and I then find myself retching in the toilet, whilst my concerned friend brings me water.

Overall though - I'm chuffed to be honest ... I am reserving air-punching celebrations until we've got through a good 10 days - it's only been 4 so far ... but as the title above you says, 'so far, not so bad'.

Onwards ....

R-Chop - first cycle

I am back at home on the chemo couch, feeling a little nauseous but I'm OK.

The good news is that the treatment was relatively painless. It was a long day, the first antibody took 4 hours to drip in. There was then four big syringes to push in (each takes about five mins) and a whole bunch of tablets.

I wretched a couple of times, feel rough throughout but it was not the drama that AVDB was (remember I don't have a PICC line anymore).

I'm not going to write much, as I don't want to think about as it still makes me feel a bit sick - but just to let you know that 'it went'.

Thanks for the texts, emails.

if it's not one thing, it's another. sometimes both.

Right. Pay attention. Big news and all that. Game changer.

I've known some of this for a while, but didn't have the details, so I've kept quiet. Now I'm armed with a bit more information, I'm able to pass it on. All in glorious bullet points.

• The spleen was removed and tested. Lymph nodes were also taken from my pancreas and other areas.
• Tests reveal that all of the above test positive for Diffuse large B cell non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma
• On going back to the original lymph node, taken from my underarm back in December, it was confirmed that this was definitely Hodgkins Lymphoma
• I was therefore showing two types of Lymphoma at the same time (as we now know that spleen was Diffuse B cell Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma at the same time that lymph node removed was showing Hodgkin's)
• This is very rare ...
• ... but it has been seen, that the cancer 'morphs' from Hodgkin's to Non-Hodkin's - we simply caught it in the middle of the transition back in December (don't ask me to get any more technical that this)
• To sum up this part: I no longer have Hodgkins Lymphoma, I have Diffuse large B-Cell Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma (which I shall call NHL from now on)
• I am a very special boy, huh?

Breath ....

• New cancer = new treatment.
• Chemo will no longer be the dreaded 'AVBD', but something called 'R-Chop'
• It's not supposed to be as 'heavy' as my previous AVDB treatment - side effects are less intense
• I start my first session on Thursday the 10th June. A few days.
• Each cycle is three weeks
• Unlike AVBD there is no 'A' and 'B' treatment. Therefore, each 'cycle' really is one chemo session.
• I am booked for 4 cycles before another full scan (ie: 4 x 3 weeks = 12 weeks)
• I am limited by the amount of this chemo I am allowed to take, as one of the drugs is basically the same as in AVBD and each treatment raises the dangers of a heart problem. My consultant seems confident than I do have one, despite my protests.
  
  

Breath ...

• I am currently anaemic
• I currently have a large amount of blood platelets - I am at risk of deep vein thrombosis
• I will be expected to self-inject the 'white blood cell' boosters into my stomach, 5 days after chemo (for 3 days)
• I am at high risk from infection after chemo - more so now I no longer have a spleen.
• If I get a temperature of 38+, I must get to Emergency asap.
• It was drummed into me, that I am, apparently, 'very sick'... 
• ... my lymphoma is making me ill, tired etc / not the operation after-effects
• "Have you got any fucking good news?", I did enquire
  
  

Breath ...

• Had I come in showing 'just' this type of B cell NHL, then my 'prognosis' would be very, very good. Around 90% +
• However, as I have this rare morph and type, then sadly, we are looking add slashing those odds down to about 60%.
• Either the Lymphoma will not react to the R-Chop treatment (unlikely, as it did respond partially to the AVBD) ...
• ... or 'relapse' starts to occur. The consultant was reluctant to talk about that. 
• "So that'll be a 'No', then", I concluded.
  
  

And exhale ... you did well to stick it this far.

You're up to date ... I don't have anything to add. What is there to say?

Onwards, onwards .... Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more ...