Thursday came around again and Scott and I tried to hatch a plan. How does a cancer patient ‘throw a sickie’ in order to avoid a doctor visit? What astoundingly brilliant and cunning scam could we conjure that would allow us a ‘Get out of clinic visit without incurring the wrath of doctors and the social services’ card? Our combined genius came up with nothing. Nowt.
For the last 108 weeks we have spent every Thursday at the cancer clinic, mostly outpatient but sometimes stressed to high-hell for one reason or another, as inpatients. It just gets a little trying, and tiring. Every Thursday waking up with a pounding headache and a desperate need for vast amounts of Pepto-Bismol and Xanax, wondering if today will be a ‘move forward one space’ day or the day when the shit hits the fan.
Anyway, we did go to clinic of course, and we did move forward. Yay!! Scott’s counts weren’t all that great but like I said last time it seems his bone marrow is exhausted and the boost in counts following prednisone is nowhere near as dramatic as it used to be. His platelets rose and his hemoglobin fell, there were 4% immature cells but they were recognizable and not the dreaded ‘unclassifieds’. So he received his 101st dose of methotrexate and we were on our way.
Whilst I was there I mentioned the pain issues – well I didn’t just mention, I said I would consent to no more chemotherapy unless pain control was addressed – and was thrilled to get approval for Demerol. Every cycle the pain has increased and it’s got to the point now where Scott cannot be expected to simply ‘suck it up’. The doctors really don’t want to over-medicate the children and are very cautious in giving out strong opiates and the like, but Tylenol w/codeine simply isn’t cutting it anymore. I think with him only having 2 more doses of vincristine left it was felt that something with a bit more clout would be okay for the last few weeks. I was so excited. Finally, and at long last, Scott wouldn’t have to endure such terrible pain (and with it, high blood pressure) and could sail through his last couple of months stoned and happy. So, we get our stash of Demerol and Scott is given permission by the doctor to use it to get through the last of this cycles pain. Cool. Well it would have been if the damn stuff worked!! So much for our little Walgreens pot of 10 magic beans!! Why oh why oh bloody why doesn’t any of the really good stuff work for Scott??? Neurontin and Paxil didnt help. Dapsone nearly killed him, Reglan turned him into a pysho-monster and Compazine was just plain heartbreakingly horrific. Even the PS3 no longer holds the same mind (and pain) numbing attraction! Oh well, as long as the chemo works. That’s the main thing.