5th Round of Chemo
I had my fifth round of chemo today. It was the roughest one yet.
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To my left in this picture is photojournalist Walker Anderson. He's been with me pretty much every step of the way. We're producing a TV documentary on "Bill's Journey" for Q13 FOX News in Seattle. You can find many of the TV stories that have aired on Q13 FOX News on the "Bill's Journey" page at Q13fox.com. Here, I'm getting infused with a drug called Doxorubicin, one of the four drugs that I am injected with once every two weeks. It's also called Adriamycin, and is sometimes referred to as the "red devil" for its side effects. It's the one that made me lose my hair. I'm really digging my bald head--it's a huge bonus with the temperatures in the 80's. We'll get more into that later.
I have felt perfectly fine all week, but it was the weirdest thing: I started feeling a little bit sick to my stomach last night. It was nagging me a bit this morning, and continued to get worse and worse the closer we got to the hospital. Doc says it's a classic case of "anticipatory nausea", and it's common. I actually started to get whiffs of the smell of the hospital--out of nowhere-- which triggered the upset stomach.
People ask me me what it's like after chemo. I always say it's like the worst hangover you've ever had. Only it lasts for days.
A few years ago, I had a chance to fly with the Blue Angels. It was the wildest ride you can imagine. The FA-18 is a rocket ship. After experiencing a "high-performance takeoff": a 15,000 foot ascent, straight up, from Being Field, the pilot asked me, "So, what kind of a ride do you want? Do you want me to take it easy, or..."
"No," I interrupted, "I wanna see what this baby can do."
The pilot snickered. "Oh, yeah, we can do that."
I wanted to earn a cool fighter pilot call sign, like "Maverick" or "Iceman". I got one. You can call me "Two Bags", because that's what I filled. But I would do it again in a second.
After today's chemo session, you can call me "One Bag". I wouldn't wish chemo on anybody.
I got sick with the Blue Angels, but I quickly recovered. After I have chemo on a Monday, the nausea comes and goes, but it lingers for several days afterward. After the first two sessions, the nausea lasted a couple of days. The last two sessions, it's lasting into the weekend. Even while using the nausea medications as prescribed, sometimes the pain is so sharp in my stomach that I am doubled over in pain. The only way I can get comfortable is to kneel on all fours.
Right now, three hours after the session, I am sneezing and urinating frequently. My body doesn't like what it's being exposed to. It's trying the best it can to protect itself from these foreign bodies that are on a search-and-destroy mission: seeking all dividing cells, and devouring them, melting them away. It's kinda like pouring salt on a slug.
Heading into session 2, all of the nurses were complimenting me on my beautiful veins. Five sessions in, I don't hear those compliments anymore. It's getting harder to find a usable vein. A lot of people have asked me why I don't get a Port-a-Cath, which is a device that is inserted into your body, usually in the upper chest, which the nurses simply tap into for blood draws and infusions. Every nurse says I should definitely have one. Doc says it's not necessary for me. I only had to endure 6 chemo sessions, which isn't all that many compared to some patients. He also suggested against it because it would be another surgery and another incision, which I wasn't thrilled to jump back into, after just having had a handful of lymph nodes ripped out of my neck. Doc keeps referring to me as a "young, healthy patient". I kinda like the ring of that.
The bleomycin has given me a rash once again, as it is prone to do. It really just makes my skin itchy. The problem is, when I scratch the itch, it leaves huge red rashes. They are all over. I'm gonna go back to the white cotton gloves tonight, so I can't make a mark.
The one good thing about treatment is you can't stop the clock. You can't do it all at once, but you can get through one segment at a time.
Five down. One to go.
Then a month of radiation.
Ugh.
To my left in this picture is photojournalist Walker Anderson. He's been with me pretty much every step of the way. We're producing a TV documentary on "Bill's Journey" for Q13 FOX News in Seattle. You can find many of the TV stories that have aired on Q13 FOX News on the "Bill's Journey" page at Q13fox.com. Here, I'm getting infused with a drug called Doxorubicin, one of the four drugs that I am injected with once every two weeks. It's also called Adriamycin, and is sometimes referred to as the "red devil" for its side effects. It's the one that made me lose my hair. I'm really digging my bald head--it's a huge bonus with the temperatures in the 80's. We'll get more into that later.
I have felt perfectly fine all week, but it was the weirdest thing: I started feeling a little bit sick to my stomach last night. It was nagging me a bit this morning, and continued to get worse and worse the closer we got to the hospital. Doc says it's a classic case of "anticipatory nausea", and it's common. I actually started to get whiffs of the smell of the hospital--out of nowhere-- which triggered the upset stomach.
People ask me me what it's like after chemo. I always say it's like the worst hangover you've ever had. Only it lasts for days.
A few years ago, I had a chance to fly with the Blue Angels. It was the wildest ride you can imagine. The FA-18 is a rocket ship. After experiencing a "high-performance takeoff": a 15,000 foot ascent, straight up, from Being Field, the pilot asked me, "So, what kind of a ride do you want? Do you want me to take it easy, or..."
"No," I interrupted, "I wanna see what this baby can do."
The pilot snickered. "Oh, yeah, we can do that."
I wanted to earn a cool fighter pilot call sign, like "Maverick" or "Iceman". I got one. You can call me "Two Bags", because that's what I filled. But I would do it again in a second.
After today's chemo session, you can call me "One Bag". I wouldn't wish chemo on anybody.
I got sick with the Blue Angels, but I quickly recovered. After I have chemo on a Monday, the nausea comes and goes, but it lingers for several days afterward. After the first two sessions, the nausea lasted a couple of days. The last two sessions, it's lasting into the weekend. Even while using the nausea medications as prescribed, sometimes the pain is so sharp in my stomach that I am doubled over in pain. The only way I can get comfortable is to kneel on all fours.
Right now, three hours after the session, I am sneezing and urinating frequently. My body doesn't like what it's being exposed to. It's trying the best it can to protect itself from these foreign bodies that are on a search-and-destroy mission: seeking all dividing cells, and devouring them, melting them away. It's kinda like pouring salt on a slug.
Heading into session 2, all of the nurses were complimenting me on my beautiful veins. Five sessions in, I don't hear those compliments anymore. It's getting harder to find a usable vein. A lot of people have asked me why I don't get a Port-a-Cath, which is a device that is inserted into your body, usually in the upper chest, which the nurses simply tap into for blood draws and infusions. Every nurse says I should definitely have one. Doc says it's not necessary for me. I only had to endure 6 chemo sessions, which isn't all that many compared to some patients. He also suggested against it because it would be another surgery and another incision, which I wasn't thrilled to jump back into, after just having had a handful of lymph nodes ripped out of my neck. Doc keeps referring to me as a "young, healthy patient". I kinda like the ring of that.
The bleomycin has given me a rash once again, as it is prone to do. It really just makes my skin itchy. The problem is, when I scratch the itch, it leaves huge red rashes. They are all over. I'm gonna go back to the white cotton gloves tonight, so I can't make a mark.
The one good thing about treatment is you can't stop the clock. You can't do it all at once, but you can get through one segment at a time.
Five down. One to go.
Then a month of radiation.
Ugh.
Posted by Bill Wixey at 7/20/2009 5:41 PM 
Categories: Bill Wixey, Blue Angels, Bill's Journey, Chemotherapy, Chemo: Like salt on a slug, Q13FOX News
Tags: Bill Wixey Blue Angels Q13 FOX News Bill's Journey Chemo: Like Salt on a slug Chemotherapy
Categories: Bill Wixey, Blue Angels, Bill's Journey, Chemotherapy, Chemo: Like salt on a slug, Q13FOX News
Tags: Bill Wixey Blue Angels Q13 FOX News Bill's Journey Chemo: Like Salt on a slug Chemotherapy
Another great blog - Thanks so much for sharing this journey, I went back and looked at previous entries - what a great chronicle you and we have of this journey - and you have never lost your sense of humor throughout - a true inspiration - I hope I would do the same but I feel I would just feel sorry for myself! Thanks for the inspiration and great example of how to deal with the big C. Sean (LTLV613 - twitter friend)
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Bill, you are a young, healthy patient! Thanks for sharing this journey with all of us. We pray for "Gigi and Will's daddy" all the time and of course, my sweet friend's husband. I am so sorry that you are feeling nauseous so frequently. Maybe next week after your last chemo you can head up with the Blue Angels and take care of those pukey feelings, but in a really cool way
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I'm way past the age of having cramps, but the all fours position with my chest on the floor and my butt in the air helped that, like your all fours position. If you can still have that winning smile through it all, you'll make it. Keep up the good work, Bill!
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Hang in there Bill. As a fellow cancer patient who just passed 3rd chemo. Hi 5!!
http://glennkeeping.blogspot.com/
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Thank you for your continuing posts, my brother was recently diagnosed with colon cancer and though I was able to go back east to be with him for the start of the Chemo I am unable to break away for his six months of treatments he will need to have... You are instrumental in helping me understand all of the things he is not able to verbalize as he goes through this lonely journey - My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family!
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Congratulations on being one tx away from the end of chemo! I've heard radiation is a walk in the park compared to chemo, so hopefully you'll start feeling better soon. I had six months of chemo and no radiation and I'm still clean as of December 14, 2008. Best of luck.
Paige
P.S. Your hair will come back sooner than you think.
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YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION, THANK YOU FOR Sharing. MY SCANS HAVE BEEN CLEAR FOR 29 MONTHS I AM GRATEFUL AND VERY HOPEFUL WE WILL ALL OUT LIVE THESE CRAZY CONFUSED CELLS.
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Hi Bill, it was good to meet you at our last chemo. I'm just getting over the hump and beginning to feel pretty good again. I have Waldenstroms macroglobulinemia- one of the rarest of the non-Hodgkins lymphomas and not cureable yet. I've had this for ten years now and have had treatment before but this is my first all-out chemo so I feel that I am following you, literally, on your journey. While Waldenstroms is a blood cancer, involving primarily the bone marrow it can invlove other organs. In my case the lymph nodes, too, became involved. One more chemo! I'm looking forward to life again. I'll remember you in my prayers!
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I just wanted to say that I moved to the East side in September of 08 to go to school at Central in Ellensburg, and I couldn't find the news like you guys do it. After hearing about you I began reading your blogs, and it is truly amazing what you are doing. I know from my families experience with cancer's and other diseases. And you really are a tough strong person. I wish you and your family the best and I have you in my prayers. Stay Strong
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Bill, I have been watching you on channel 13 for years now and have a great respect for you. This morning when I saw your picture on the news (no hair on your head)something came over me and I could feel your pain in my heart. I pray for you and your family and know that you will win this battle. I wish you the very best and hope to see your smiling face on TV again soon. I agree that you had the thickest hair I had ever seen but really you do look good with no hair at all. Thank you for sharing your journey and know that you are admired for your strength. God Bless
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