Tuesday 26th April
Well my second attempt at Herceptin went without a hitch.
This was down to the three lots of steroids I had to take beforehand, together with the intravenous Piriton (sorts out my hayfever as well!), intravenous hyrdocortisone and a couple of paracetemol for good measure.
So I will now embark on a 6 or 12 month regime of Herceptin (the duration of the course depends on what the clinical trial I am going on decides), and thus reduce of the cancer recurring in 10, 15, 20 years etc. to zilch - hooray!
As a general rule if it is a short post then things must be going well!
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
Sunday, 10 April 2011
Hair Raising...And How!
Saturday 9th April
As you will notice there has been a tremendous gap between this and the last post. This is because, medically speaking little or nothing has happened to me - fortunately.
My hair is starting to grow back everywhere. I thought I had a severe case of raging athletes' foot but it was just the itching from the hair growing back on my toes. Yes I have hairy toes. My arms are similarly afflicted as is the underside of my chin. Strangely my head has not itched at all, nor anywhere else.
Medically, I have had a heart scan and it appears to be working in the manner prescribed.
Yesterday I went back to the chemotherapy unit for my first round of Herceptin.
Herceptin is an antibody which promotes your body to attack the Her2 receptors on the cancer cells, assuming you have Her2 receptive cancer.
Some people have no reaction at all to Herceptin, some people have a mild allergic reaction to Herceptin and very few people have a severe allergic reaction to Herceptin. You can guess which category I fell into!!!
Those people who have a severe allergic reaction usually react very quickly and equally when given anti-allergy medication calm down very quickly as well.
I did neither of these two things.
The administration of the loading does of Herceptin takes about 90 minutes and like "normal" chemotherapy it is given intravenously via a drip.
Well the first hour of my treatment went without incident. I just sat reading my Boris Johnson book.
The weather was lovely and I was sitting near the open window. After a while I felt a little chilly and assumed (incorrectly as it turned out!) that it was because I had been sitting still for over an hour near the open window. The nurse nearest me asked if I was feeling OK. I replied yes but just feeling a little chilly. A few minutes later I was freezing and shaking uncontrollably. Both the nurses appeared at my side to administer intravenous counteractive drugs, namely Piriton and hydrocortisone, as well as a couple of paracetamol.
I was assured I'd be fine in a few minutes.
I was not! I continued to shake uncontrollably and my temperature and blood pressure were all over the place!
The matron arrived! For future reference the arrival of the matron indicates that things are considerably more serious than you would like to imagine!
I am still shaking.
They break open the adrenalin from their crash cart!
I can either have it in my thigh or my arm. I opt for the latter as I am absolutely bursting to go to the loo and I am not sure that the removal of my jeans won't have a catastrophic outcome!
I am put on 100% oxygen. My chest tightens.
I am still shaking.
I am told by the matron that if I am still not calming down after about 5 minutes they will have to give me more adrenalin and call the crash team!
I am still shaking but with occasional lulls.
We compromise and the doctor from the crash team arrives to "chat" to me! (General consensus is that he is very good looking, sadly I surmise that I am undoubtedly old enough to be his mother!).
As a rule the chemotherapy unit don't like calling out the crash team as the crash team have little or no idea about chemotherapy. Straight forward heart attacks they are brilliant with, adverse reactions to chemotherapy they are not!
Gradually my shaking subsides, although I am knackered, both from the shaking and the sides effect of the Piriton. All of this has taken up the time of two nurses, one matron and one crash doctor for the best part of an hour. The consequence of this is that all the other chemo patients have had their treatment delayed during this time. I apologise profusely.
I am then informed that because I have had adrenalin (albeit only one shot) I will have to stay in the hospital for observation for 12 hours. This I do not want.
We come to an arrangement. I have to stay put until 4.30pm (which I would have had to do anyway) and then I can go home on the strict understanding that if I have any sort of dodgy symptom, e.g. tightening of my chest, palpitations etc, I will come straight back to A&E. I am out of there at 4.35pm like a greyhound out of the traps.
The matron contacts my oncologist and she decides that because I took so long before any reaction happened, that it is likely that I will be all right for future doses, however, I will be given all the counteractive drugs beforehand, except the adrenalin.
I have to admit that I am in two minds about this and will be calling the delightful Dr. Denton later this week to discuss whether I really should be continuing with this course of treatment as it is intended basically as a belt and braces option. I'm really not sure that I want to go through the "nearly dying" stuff again.
As you will notice there has been a tremendous gap between this and the last post. This is because, medically speaking little or nothing has happened to me - fortunately.
My hair is starting to grow back everywhere. I thought I had a severe case of raging athletes' foot but it was just the itching from the hair growing back on my toes. Yes I have hairy toes. My arms are similarly afflicted as is the underside of my chin. Strangely my head has not itched at all, nor anywhere else.
Medically, I have had a heart scan and it appears to be working in the manner prescribed.
Yesterday I went back to the chemotherapy unit for my first round of Herceptin.
Herceptin is an antibody which promotes your body to attack the Her2 receptors on the cancer cells, assuming you have Her2 receptive cancer.
Some people have no reaction at all to Herceptin, some people have a mild allergic reaction to Herceptin and very few people have a severe allergic reaction to Herceptin. You can guess which category I fell into!!!
Those people who have a severe allergic reaction usually react very quickly and equally when given anti-allergy medication calm down very quickly as well.
I did neither of these two things.
The administration of the loading does of Herceptin takes about 90 minutes and like "normal" chemotherapy it is given intravenously via a drip.
Well the first hour of my treatment went without incident. I just sat reading my Boris Johnson book.
The weather was lovely and I was sitting near the open window. After a while I felt a little chilly and assumed (incorrectly as it turned out!) that it was because I had been sitting still for over an hour near the open window. The nurse nearest me asked if I was feeling OK. I replied yes but just feeling a little chilly. A few minutes later I was freezing and shaking uncontrollably. Both the nurses appeared at my side to administer intravenous counteractive drugs, namely Piriton and hydrocortisone, as well as a couple of paracetamol.
I was assured I'd be fine in a few minutes.
I was not! I continued to shake uncontrollably and my temperature and blood pressure were all over the place!
The matron arrived! For future reference the arrival of the matron indicates that things are considerably more serious than you would like to imagine!
I am still shaking.
They break open the adrenalin from their crash cart!
I can either have it in my thigh or my arm. I opt for the latter as I am absolutely bursting to go to the loo and I am not sure that the removal of my jeans won't have a catastrophic outcome!
I am put on 100% oxygen. My chest tightens.
I am still shaking.
I am told by the matron that if I am still not calming down after about 5 minutes they will have to give me more adrenalin and call the crash team!
I am still shaking but with occasional lulls.
We compromise and the doctor from the crash team arrives to "chat" to me! (General consensus is that he is very good looking, sadly I surmise that I am undoubtedly old enough to be his mother!).
As a rule the chemotherapy unit don't like calling out the crash team as the crash team have little or no idea about chemotherapy. Straight forward heart attacks they are brilliant with, adverse reactions to chemotherapy they are not!
Gradually my shaking subsides, although I am knackered, both from the shaking and the sides effect of the Piriton. All of this has taken up the time of two nurses, one matron and one crash doctor for the best part of an hour. The consequence of this is that all the other chemo patients have had their treatment delayed during this time. I apologise profusely.
I am then informed that because I have had adrenalin (albeit only one shot) I will have to stay in the hospital for observation for 12 hours. This I do not want.
We come to an arrangement. I have to stay put until 4.30pm (which I would have had to do anyway) and then I can go home on the strict understanding that if I have any sort of dodgy symptom, e.g. tightening of my chest, palpitations etc, I will come straight back to A&E. I am out of there at 4.35pm like a greyhound out of the traps.
The matron contacts my oncologist and she decides that because I took so long before any reaction happened, that it is likely that I will be all right for future doses, however, I will be given all the counteractive drugs beforehand, except the adrenalin.
I have to admit that I am in two minds about this and will be calling the delightful Dr. Denton later this week to discuss whether I really should be continuing with this course of treatment as it is intended basically as a belt and braces option. I'm really not sure that I want to go through the "nearly dying" stuff again.
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