I never hoped to own heavy equipment that would be my big brother’s dream. But here I am with my own steamroller. It has just spent four days rolling over me but last night it headed for the garage. Or somewhere. I didn’t look. I snuck out of bed and practiced being alive.
I have joined Team Bruckner and I am not sure it is the easiest team to play on. I trust they will adjust my dosing to accommodate the depth of my four days of post-first-infusion misery. But 29 hours of infusion will probably never be easy. I add in cross-country travels.
My husband just bought a ticket to accompany me when I fly back out next Monday. I don’t envy him the job of chaperoning – it’s half clean up crew and half security. My dose of steroids must be HIGH as the mere folding of a tee shirt can leave me howling in a rage. The dog and husband look fearful when I leave bed. This is not what I want for them or me, a puking madwoman.
Am I extending my life or insuring that all will be able to bear what comes next? This seeking out of the good death at the right time may be for wiser folk than I.
My infusion cocktail is made up of six therapeutic drugs and endless anti-nausea and steroidal perks. I start with the standard cocktail, as (such confidence!) my cancer gets tamed the dose will be tailored and lightened. At the close of day one infusions, a shoulder bag arrives filled with my to-go dose; it’s my overnight pal pumping away. It gives a new angle to purse snatching in the big city. This connects right to a needle in my chest. The cocktail is not specific to my brand of cancer but rather the drugs are selected for how they play off each other, minimizing the cancer’s ability to adapt and maximizing the impact of each drug.
Since I am coming off a year of immunotherapy (which they are a fan of), they hope that they can take the cancer-eating sharks delivered to my body this last year and wake them up by putting blood in the water aka decaying cancer.
Hmmm…. sounds good but it always sounds good and reasonable. Too bad I have learned that cancer is entirely unreasonable.
Team Bruckner is a place of hope, a last stop for most. I think it is my only chance of getting past my cancer’s outburst but I recognize it as a big gamble and the verdict will stay out for quite a bit longer. But hey, I have a steamroller I’d love to loan out.