Day 1: It could have been much worse
Well, as with most things in life, the dread of the unknown is worse than the reality of the known.
For example, I didn't know how I would drive Little B to Doernbechers -- how could I drive my kid to chemo??? Well, easy enough... oversleep, have snarky kids, and then be 10 minutes behind schedule; the fear of missing a deadline kicks in.
Our oncologist was very nice, answered all of our apprehensive-parent questions, and soothed us somewhat. I keep repeating in my head that he thinks Little B will do fine with the course of treatment, as though it is a talisman of sorts. Hopefully it will do the trick. He thinks that Little B may likely lose some of his hair, which is not the worst thing in the world.
The Doernbechers set up is really rather nice. As a quick overview, you go in, get vitals done, then they access his port, and then draw blood. They draw blood to see if Little B's immune system is strong enough to have chemo. If his "ANC" level is too low, we can't do chemo that week. If it is OK (and this week it obviously was), then they send an order to the pharmacy to make the medicine that Little B needs. While we wait, Little B got a fabulous 24-hour dose of Zofran (anti-nausea/vomit medicine that was designed for use with chemo).
Chemo (essentially medicine used to treat cancer) has many, many different types of drugs associated with it. The drugs can be used for other purposes as well. Little B is specifically on Carboplatin and Vincristine. They have a play room and an outdoor courtyard for the treatment room (where the chemo is infused). The chemo is infused over the course of an hour or so. Little B colored, played with a little Fred Flintstone-esque police car (foot powered), played with some other toys, and watched a DVD (we brought a portable player G bought from a hardware store for $15). It was a rather long morning, but not too bad.
We came home, Little B took a nice nap, I got A from preschool (in hail, of all things), and then we played outside and made dinner. It was pretty normal, but remarkably not normal.
For example, I didn't know how I would drive Little B to Doernbechers -- how could I drive my kid to chemo??? Well, easy enough... oversleep, have snarky kids, and then be 10 minutes behind schedule; the fear of missing a deadline kicks in.
Our oncologist was very nice, answered all of our apprehensive-parent questions, and soothed us somewhat. I keep repeating in my head that he thinks Little B will do fine with the course of treatment, as though it is a talisman of sorts. Hopefully it will do the trick. He thinks that Little B may likely lose some of his hair, which is not the worst thing in the world.
The Doernbechers set up is really rather nice. As a quick overview, you go in, get vitals done, then they access his port, and then draw blood. They draw blood to see if Little B's immune system is strong enough to have chemo. If his "ANC" level is too low, we can't do chemo that week. If it is OK (and this week it obviously was), then they send an order to the pharmacy to make the medicine that Little B needs. While we wait, Little B got a fabulous 24-hour dose of Zofran (anti-nausea/vomit medicine that was designed for use with chemo).
Chemo (essentially medicine used to treat cancer) has many, many different types of drugs associated with it. The drugs can be used for other purposes as well. Little B is specifically on Carboplatin and Vincristine. They have a play room and an outdoor courtyard for the treatment room (where the chemo is infused). The chemo is infused over the course of an hour or so. Little B colored, played with a little Fred Flintstone-esque police car (foot powered), played with some other toys, and watched a DVD (we brought a portable player G bought from a hardware store for $15). It was a rather long morning, but not too bad.
We came home, Little B took a nice nap, I got A from preschool (in hail, of all things), and then we played outside and made dinner. It was pretty normal, but remarkably not normal.
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