Duelling Docs

 

Duelling Docs

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: And If Venice Is Sinking: The Spirit Of The West.

                                                                       Venice is sinking.

The pic is just for the song. From a long time ago.  Headed to Harry's bar with the family.

Last Monday, I drove Kat to the clinic to have her blood tested, as she does every month.  At the insistence of her rheumatologist.  I then dropped her at school, and then continued to Moffitt Cancer Center.

Dr. Harrington entered the operating room shortly after me.  We had our normal banter, and he looked carefully at me, and asked if the swelling on my head, had shrunk.  Kath had thought the same thing, but I was undecided.  I told him so.  And we began the formalities of surgery.

I had two excisions performed on my left left lower leg.  As we had agreed the week before, we would have no grafts to cover the wounds - both quite considerable in size.  Instead, I had them cauterized.  There is nothing like the smell of burning flesh in the afternoon, to paraphrase Robert Duval in Apocalypse Now.  At one point, I suggested to my surgeon, that he add a little butter, to improve the flavor.  He had not heard that before.  I was bandaged from my knee to the arch of my foot.  And, when the job was completed, I left the operating table, and walked, gingerly, to my car.

                                                                     The elevated leg.

I drove myself to Kath's school to pick her up, and we headed home.  I believe that pain meds mask any problems which may be surfacing, so I did not take anything before bed.  I did not sleep well.  Not unusual.  For a retiree, I have way too much going on in my damaged head.

The next morning, I again drove my bride to school, and returned to Tampa, and to Moffitt.  I had a blood draw at 10, and met with the nurse practitioner at 11.  We had a dizzying meeting, with some confusion about infusions and the possibility of the new injection trial.  She did not believe that was still a probability.  And she then told me that she would have to check with her boss, the oncologist, and excused herself. 

A few minutes later she returned, with Dr. Ereglu in tow.  And we began again.  The doctor asked me why I thought that the experimental drug was still an option.  I told her about my meeting with the surgeon in charge of the project, and what I believed he said.  I explained that I just had just completed the surgeries that he had requested, in order to be accepted into the trial group.  She did not think that was the case.  I was not ready to argue.  Time will tell.  She asked, for whatever reason, if the head swelling was reduced.  I again told my story, adding Dr. Harrington's comments into the mix.

She believed that would be a good sign that the treatment was working.  I suggested that if the swelling was going down, there might well be a different reason altogether.  She was listening.  I explained that the head wound had been leaking an oozy substance, and Dr. Harrington had prescribed an antibiotic to hopefully heal it.  If the infection was responding as expected, the swelling would diminish, as a consequence.  That would be a possibility, she agreed.  

I then tackled the infusion schedule.  After four infusions, the protocol called for another scan, to determine if progress was made.  I proposed that was too long a time for me to wait.  My cancer was extremely aggressive, and an earlier notification would be more appropriate.  She again, agreed.  We are now to have a scan following my next infusion.  I was feeling much better.  It was a great example of patient/doctor collaboration.  We need, all of us, in treatment, to advocate for ourselves.  We should know our bodies.  Don't be bashful about speaking on your own behalf.

At 2, I was infused.  An hour later, I headed home.  I returned to Challenger, to pick up my teacher, at 5:20.  And then, homeward bound.

I have had a few issues with a touchy stomach, and other than that, I am feeling fine.  My leg wounds have leaked small amounts of blood, but nothing serious.  And I am having no adverse effects from the immunotherapy treatment.

I have limited my walking.  Considerably.  

It has been an interesting week.

See you next time.

Thank you all for your kindness.  Chipper.  I am.

jrobinmullen@gmail.com

So I was wrong.  I thought I was finished with this on Friday.  Not so fast, my friend.  My leg has been bleeding sporadically since then.  The bedsheets are a mess and I had to shower to get the blood off of my lower leg.  Kath cleaned up a puddle of blood under my seat at the dinner table.  The cauterization had broken open, and remains unstable.

There was blood on the saddle, and blood on the ground.  And a great big puddle of blood all around.

If you can remember these lyrics, welcome to the Society of Septuagenarians.  SOS