I have spent untold hours over the past 3.5 years in the infusion suite at the John B. Amos Cancer Center. While all the rest of the crowd has had destruction cloaked in sheep’s clothing dripping into their veins, I was always the pussy over in the corner with water coming down my drip line. I watched them wretch, release their bowels and sometimes be knocked flat by those cancer poisons releasing one drop at a time into their various ports, PICCs and IVs. You see, chemotherapy doesn’t work for renal cell carcinoma. I always felt like some kind of fake when I was in there being hydrated. That was an important procedure for me, but in the overall scheme of things, I felt like a bit fat pussy.
About 11 p.m. last night, I put on my big boy pants and joined the real infusion crowd. The first bag of aldesleukin (HD-IL2) was started about 6:30 yesterday evening. At exactly 11 p.m. Last night I jerked myself from a deep, REM sleep. My muscles were firing from my jawbone all the way through to the bottom of my feet. The rigors (for some reason here, pronounced Ryegers) hit me with a vengeance. I looked like a 240-pound marionette being controlled by one of Jerry’s kids. I couldn’t stop shaking until one of these nurse angels came in the door with a syringe filled with 2 mg of morphine. Two of those later, the shakes were gone and I drifted off to a great sleep in spite of the regular vital signs checks, but not before I was stricken with a bout of bodacious nausea. They came and dealt with that, too, and I managed to go to sleep without soiling myself or throwing up. Mike 1 — HD-IL2 0!
They’re about to come and hang dose number three. They tell me these symptoms are cumulative and that I’ll be getting sicker and maybe quickly. My blood pressure is now about 95 over 50, so it has exhibited its expected slide. We’re going to get me into the shower as soon as Jill comes back from breakfast and get the wound changed where my PICC line went in.
I woke up this morning feeling really well. Wide awake, talkative and happy to be in the care of the beautiful Janet from Baltimore. These nurses here are truly incredible, just like the nurses in other institutions where I’ve had care. They are the ones on the line putting up with the patients and the doctors. A reluctant nurse sandwich. I have brought a load of my dad’s semi-world famous peanut brittle. That planned bag of sweet currency is helping to pay the bills around here.
So, with the third of dose of up to 14 in sight, we’re soldering on, one drip at a time. By the way, I found out the real reason to use a PICC line instead of a normal IV. Last night, I posted that the PICC goes in the antecubital (in the crook of your elbow) vein. It doesn’t. Mine went into the Basilic vein. Even though the wire tried to make an unscheduled side trip up my jugular vein into my neck, the nurse fished it back and had me contort my neck to force it over toward my heart at the superior vena cava. The reason a PICC line is used it to get the end of that catheter in the center of one of the largest veins in the body, the superior vena cava. That is done to properly dilute the medications in that big pipeline to better disperse them throughout the body.
I try to always learn something new each day. That is easy to do in a hospital.
Jennifer Joyner says
Hang in there, Mike! Thinking and praying that you have few side-effects, peace of mind and courage to keep going!
Stephanie Downs says
Keep the Mike count rising and the HD-IL2 count 0!! Praying for you both-
Stephanie
Margie Ivey says
I’ve been praying that you will amaze everyone and do much better than others. It’s great they have wonderful medications to help you through this. I’m pleased to see you posting!
Marquette McKnight says
So glad you feel well enough to write your way through this battle thus far. Thinking of you and wishing the only toughness you faced today was how many women at OPPs were going to lunch and when you could get them all herded up. love you Mikey!
Betsy Covington says
So when you’re doing all that Elvis talk, all I can think of is Mary Murphy on SYTYCD screeching that “You’re on the Hot Tamale Train now, baby!” Hang on for what sounds like quite a ride . Destination: NED!
Karen Rankin says
Been thinking and praying for you both. Lots of folks asking about you both yesterday. Saw Iris (Charles Baker) and she said that she continues to pray also. Keep kicking! The Rankins
janet p says
Those heated blankets are the best. Sounds like you’re doing ok so far. Keep up the good work.
Janet, KC fighter
Stan Allen says
Mike,
Hang in there, you are a Trooper!! You have a good assistant Jill helping you!! We’re all praying for you…
Stan
Jim Thomas says
I’ve said it before……..you ate one tough Hombre
Mrs. Dr. Who says
Choosing to armor yourself with big boy pantaloons shows courage. Feeding nurses shows wisdom…your rapier wit and continued prayers will see you through…p.s. when you’ve exhausted the peanut brittle, keep a couple dozen premium Duncan Donuts at the nurses’ trough and don’t be surprised if the med cart stays right outside your door.
Carol Ann says
Keep us posted as much as you can. Prayers will continue on and on. Keep fighting.
Tim Gunter says
Positive vibrations, Mr. Venable! Hang in there
Callie says
Wish we could each take an hour or two to give you a break. When you’re ready for entertainment or need cheering we’re ready! Hope Jill is getting some decent sleep!
Cj
Cham says
Mike, Kerry sent me your blog this morning because he was updating me as to your next “round”. I have to say you and Jill are both amazing. Keep up the great work. We have you in our prayers.
Carol Wingard says
Oh, Mike, your spirit is incredible. I have sat many times besides two people I loved going through chemo. Everything you write, I can envision. I know it is hell, and I know your attitude will help you beat this. If you are one of the 7%, well, that is 100% for you. I do believe you can beat the odds. Just know I am reading everything and feeling awe and empathy.
Gene Sands says
Mike – I’m following your postings with great interest because I’m amazed at your spirit and strength. Your ability to maintain your sense
of humor through all of this is admirable. Remain steadfast and continue to know that you have many friends who love you and are cheering and praying for you! As an old preacher once said, “If the Lord brings you to it, He’ll bring you through it.”
David Fletcher says
V,
It looks like Mrs. Dr. Who is coming around…sure wish I knew who she is… a mystery wrapped in a puzzle, inside an enigma…
One small bit of wisdom as you are going through this round of torture, “you are going to have to give up the flying saucer baby, cuz I’m a macaroni!” Love you man!