Here's a little history. I was treated for Hodgkin's lymphoma nineteen years ago with nine months of ABVD chemotherapy. The prognosis was quite good: 60 of no recurrence, 85% chance of survival even with recurrence according to my memory. However, the first few chemos were harsh. During the infusion and immediately after I was dazed, dizzy, sedated and agitated from the crude anti-nausea drugs of the day. I couldn't read because my vision was too blurry and my mind too addled. Stubbornly I refused a wheelchair to get out the door, but need my parents on each arm and all the concentration I could muster to walk out 'on my own.' Once the nausea drugs wore off I vomited and retched steadily for up to 24 hours and could maybe keep down jello for the next two or three days. Like many others, the association with my appointment became unbearable - I started feeling anxiety, depression and nausea on the way to the appointment. Single, without children, I began to consider and even voice the opinion that the treatment wasn't worth it. My oncologists and parents prevailed on me to continue, but I don't know if they would have won out in the long run.
Mr. Yuck is mean. Mr. Yuck is green.
Then, somewhere around the second or third month, my oncologist announced a new anti nausea drug called Zofran. Zofran saved my life. After barely keeping down jello on the second or third day post infusion, I ate a grilled cheese sandwich with a chocolate milk shake a few hours after infusion and kept it down! It was new world. My breast cancer oncologist now was in a fellowship with my Hodgkin's oncologist then. When I presented him with my medical records in January, he was amused to see his old pre-digital handwritten notes about treatment. One note described a conversation with my father who wanted to know about buying stock in the company that made Zofran, and describing the dramatic difference Zofran had made for me.
The New World
Old Chemo World, Mr. Yuck World:
No food or near infusion rooms, no perfumes in or near infusion rooms, extreme nausea, disorientation - misery for days. Oh - and I couldn't drive, I could barely walk! For days I couldn't drive.
New Chemo Word, Delicious Cake World.:
Wow. I read, do work, write cards, talk with others during treatment. There is a SNACK area in the infusion center. What? And, I enjoy the snacks, coffee, juice, a little lunch. I can drive myself to and from treatment? What the heck?
Zofran is long gone and there are newer, even better drugs. Amazing. I know some people still have some nausea and vomiting, but it is nothing like the Old World.
Thank you, science.
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