Hey, this carboplatin is a breeze! Whoo hoo! I am eating, only using half of the nausea drugs, and keeping everything down… yes, everything. I have yet to vomit since the introduction of the carboplatin into my system on Tuesday.
There have been ‘hiccups’. But with the judicious application of that anti-psychotic novo–chlorpromazine, we seemed to have nipped that particularly ugly side effect in the bud.
One of the questions that immediately jumps to mind is ‘why didn’t they use this drug before?’ Well, apparently it takes between 3 and 6 doses of carboplatin to have the same butt-kicking effect on the cancer cells that the cisplatin does. What they will do is give you three to six days of carboplatin in a row, which, by the end, you’re not in much better shape than with the cisplatin, anyway. And you just know the cisplatin is that much stronger, potent and deadly ’cause they store and serve it in glass containers, while everything else we’ve noticed on the IV stands has been in plastic…
I am a little fatigued, maybe a bit dehydrated, and just a tiny bit deluded into thinking that I’ve got the outward manifestations of these damned therapies under control. Gail, good caregiver that she is, still makes me wear masks out in the great wide world, ensures that I am using the various creams, lotions and swishes, and is only just a bit bossy in doing any of it. Just a bit bossy, and somewhat pushy when it comes to the calorie count… I am starting my mornings with the “Plus” version of Ensure, followed almost immediately by two fried eggs and a glass of milk. Lunch (if I actually got out of bed to make ‘lunch’ a different time period) is a soup of some sort… Uncle Pete’s chicken soup has been getting the most play so far this week. Evenings have been one or another chili, or the three potato casserole that Gail makes, or some of her fish pie. Between meals there is usually a yogurt or pudding cup on offer, and, of course, the ever present glass of milk. I still can’t quite taste the sugars, but most of the savoury flavours are coming through. The chemo doctor, after a heavy sigh, did tell me that it could be ‘many, many weeks’ before the tastes are back to normal. Open cans of almost-room-temperature-and-slightly-stale soda water to cleanse the stickier saliva are strategically placed throughout the house.
Which reminds me… I haven’t really pointed out that the thick saliva has pretty much subsided. Mornings (teeth brushing time) are the worst. But it really isn’t getting in the way too much during the day. Add another ‘whoo hoo‘ to the stack!