What to Expect During Your Cancer Year

Yesterday, Noo and I went to our friendly local oncologist's office.  He was great, and we weathered the tour of the infusion center (read: chemo chairs) pretty well, all things considered.

Before we left, we were provided with several pamphlets and booklets about support groups through the American Cancer Society--sort of a "Welcome to Cancer!" information packet, if you will.

Which raises the question:  How does one prepare to receive interferon therapy for a year?  The first month is IV, five days a week, two hours per session, best scheduled in the afternoon so the patient can go home, have a light meal, and sleep through most of the aches and chills which follow.  But what about the nuts and bolts of daily life with a PICC line, interferon, aches, chills, indifferent appetite, fatigue?  I don't claim to have the answer to these questions, but here's what Noo and I are going to do before she starts interferon at the end of the month:

• Make gallons of vegetarian soup to freeze and serve up on those "by golly, I've just had interferon and I don't have ANYTHING to serve for dinner" moments.
• Draft a general "movies to rent" list so she can watch one on a portable DVD player while she's stuck in the chemo chair for two hours.
• Paint the master bedroom a deep green, so at least the four walls in which she sleeps off the interferon won't be Landlord White.
• Invest in a really good mattress.  Ours are twelve years old and as bowed as backyard hammocks.
• Put our game faces on.  Most of what we're facing is the unknown, and you can't really plan for the unknown, can you?

Can you?

Comments

[x-ray fluorescence]

I admire you for the strength and love you are able to share through this blog. Thank you.

[sara]

I really love "Landlord White." Is that original?

[Liz D]

I admire your love and attitude.

This is going to sound like an ad, but I loves me my Tempurpedic mattress. And when I was recovering from surgery, a friend loaned me her zero-gravity chair. Lovely.

As to the indifferent appetite: we made my dad Ensure "lollipops" -- using a candy mold we froze chocolate Ensure so he could pop one in his mouth. Mild guacamole (no onions, only a little garlic) was also on hand. He did better with little bits of food, pretty constantly, rather than an actual meal.

[Meg]

I admire you for the strength and love you are able to share thru this blog. Thank you. For my mom, who was fairly reserved for the most part, I'd get her unexpected "gifts" to catch her off guard during treatments. Like MAD Magazines, Mad-libs, a really raunchy novel (she's an almost nun prior to me...), stupid law books, etc... I figured there was plenty of time to be sentimental and there could be just as many funny-ok times too, so I made sure WHEN she was ready to laugh, the place was already set. Sending mighty hugs your way.

[Dr. Midlife]

Hi -

I get good mileage out of having friends show up during infusion. I try to avoid having any instances where it's just me staring down the IV drip, considering my plight without interruptions. Much better to be distracted and kept laughing.

When I'm up to it, I also get a lot of mileage out of having the same or different friends do a quick casual dinner at the vegan restaurant between the clinic and home. Makes me feel normal.

Hang in there, you're in my thoughts.

[MedstudentForever]

I don't think you can plan for the unknown...I have tried my best for many years, and have only succeeded in increasing my own anxiety (so helpful!) and driving my husband up the wall. Instead of planning for every possible disaster, I am trying to look forward with an optimistic mindset but a few good escape plans in place. I am also vigorously exercising my sense of humor. Life can be pretty funny when you feel like it's all burning down around you!

I will wish a peaceful mind and a rock-solid sense of humor to both of you.

[Heather]

I am not sure if you can plan for all the variables in the cancer treatment. One thing I would prepare for is to not make plans after treatments. Each treatment may affect patient differently. I would also use any services that are provided for the patient ie: massage or anything like that. It gives great comfort to the patient. You may also have access to this and I would DO IT, you deserve to be taken care of too.

I wish you the best. It is not easy being the caregiver, I walked in those shoes myself.