Yesterday was a weird day. Very tough in some ways, easy in others. I was quite discouraged to jump from a one-hour infusion to about six hours of infusion due to reduced electrolytes, but since I have been eating almost nothing, well, duh, I guess. It was supposed to be sort of a day off.
The food aversion problem continues to get a little better, but not soon enough. And I accidentally gave myself a setback. Also, spoke at length to the EMDR specialist here, who is going to start working with me today to see about reconditioning me back to being able to take solids and fluids by mouth easily. Right now it’s very tough, a result of last weekend’s cyclophosphamide infusion being so terribly hard on my upper GI. I’m pretty sure Dad was fascinated by the EMDR guy and the intake process, which he witnessed almost all of.
Also, a rocking rash all over my chest from the adhesives in the dressing. I tell people and tell people I react to medical adhesives. but nobody ever does anything until after the problem presents. This happens with every new clinical. Sort of like my eternal conversation about why I really, really don’t tolerate opiates well, and no, I’m not crying “wolf”.
I walked outside the ward more, which was as much about boredom as anything else. Various of us had some good chats, but I’m mostly too unfocused to read or watch Netflix or hop on the phone.
Meanwhile, this morning was the last of my kamikaze chemo sessions. One of the doctors reluctantly confirmed that the cyclophosphamide which knocked me back so hard was basically mustard gas. That gave me a whole new perspective on WWI, I can tell you. I start the TIL infusions tomorrow around noon, and the IL-2 infusions tomorrow evening.
I am still afraid.