The Patient Person for April 28

• By LAURIE SMITH ANDERSON
• Advocate staff writer
• Published: Apr 28, 2006

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Undergoing chemotherapy requires an act of supreme submission.

Sitting in a recliner for several hours watching multiple poisons drip slowly into my veins, I know it’s going to make me sick. Extreme fatigue, weakness, neurological symptoms, gastrointestinal distress, fever, nausea and lack of appetite generally follow a session where I receive four different drugs. It usually lasts two or three days. I generally schedule chemo on Fridays so I have the weekend (when my husband and I are off work) to recover.

Because I trust my doctor and know that chemo is a necessary evil in order to beat my cancer, I endure the administration of medications that I know firsthand are toxic to healthy cells as well as cancer cells. Fortunately, I haven’t experienced two of the side effects, mouth sores and total hair loss (though my hair has thinned), at least so far.

I’m an old hand now in what is hopefully my last round of chemo. My regimen consists of three rounds of six weekly sessions with two-week breaks in between. I have what I call “big chemo” and “little chemo” weeks. On the little chemo weeks, I get two drugs that don’t greatly bother me. On big chemo weeks, I get sick for several days.

The three chemo drugs are 5-FU (an abbreviated euphemism for stronger words, according to some patients), leucovorin and oxaliplatin (my personal demon). Every other week, I also receive Avastin, a newly approved biological drug that targets cancer cells specifically and is tripling response rates in colon cancer patients.

People often ask me what chemo is like.

It’s different for every patient. Depending on the type and stage of cancer, different drugs are used. Some people get chemo every day for a period of time. Others get weekly treatments. Some patients stay in chemo for a long time as their illness becomes a chronic condition.

Like many patients, I have a surgically inserted port in my chest to make administration easier and less painful. Other patients have pumps, and some just have an IV inserted each time in a vein in their arms.

Depending on the drugs administered and the patients’ responses, a few people are able to get their chemo and go right back to work. Most suffer some side effects that require recuperation. Some are simply not able to tolerate the treatment, which lowers the body’s immune system response and can make them more susceptible to infections and illness.

My doctor’s office has a chemo room with a nurse’s station in the midst of more than a dozen recliners, where patients sit hooked up to IV poles. Nurses are competent and compassionate as they trade jokes with patients, answer questions and ease their fears, as needed.

Cheerful, handmade afghans are available, as are snacks, coffee and water. Magazines and crossword puzzles lie in every corner and the Christmas tree in the waiting room was converted to a Mardi Gras tree after New Year’s and an Easter tree after that. Just before Christmas, a local musician visited the chemo room and played his saxophone.

Blood tests are performed the day before chemo to make sure red and white blood cell counts are not too low. Sometimes, chemo has to be postponed in order to bolster the patient’s natural resistance.

One needle stick is required and pre-meds are administered before chemo to minimize side effects such as nausea. Some of the medications make patients drowsy enough to sleep.