The word is trickling through various communities, and I’m hearing from people from a lot of different contexts.  Panix was the hard one.  I’m afraid I’ve given the impression that I’ve mostly packed it in, which truly doesn’t yet seem to be the case, but I wasn’t comfortable posting off Panix (to LiveJournal, say) when so many of the people I know there would have had to decide whether to keep a secret that isn’t really a secret.

Anyhow, I had my second chemo today.  Except for the fact that it took much longer than we’d expected, it went well.  They did the initial “vitals” (with a finger prick for blood).  We’d just come in from outside, and my hands were so cold it wasn’t easy to get the blood to flow.  But eventually she drew what she needed (not very much).  Then, almost immediately, they took me to the infusion waiting area, said it would be about ten minutes, and left me there for half an hour.

Finally I went into the infusion room, was assigned a chair, and sat there for half an hour before the nurse came and said she’d need to draw more bloods.  I wondered why.  But rather than doing the draw and then going to find out why, she went to find out why first, which meant another twenty minutes or so.  It turns out that they still have a couple of weeks to get a result on the clotting issue that would make me eligible for the protocol.  It also turns out that the draw for that test has to be through a vein, so they couldn’t use my port.  Fortunately, it’s been a week since anyone has drawn blood (except for the finger prick), so the usual vein was happy to accomodate.

Then they started the saline, and then they did the infusion, and then more saline.  My 12:30 infusion didn’t start until 2:00, and my back was stiff and sore, even in the comfy chair.  We’d been smart this week and brought food, so I was in pretty good shape when we left.  (I’ve discovered that when I don’t eat enough my legs get very heavy and I don’t want to move.)

The oncologist came in, asked how I was doing, was encouraged by my answers.  I asked him if it would be okay for me to go to the theater on Sunday, and he pretty much ordered me to do so, unless I changed my mind and didn’t feel like it.

All together, it was an excellent report.  I don’t know if I’m interested in going to the protocol.  Even if I were assured of getting the test drug, it’s so much poking and prodding.  But I’ll think about it.

Anyhow, we got home very quickly; a train was just pulling in as we got to the station, and I managed to do a little more work before I called it a day (and, for that matter, a week).