T had his second chemotherapy infusion last week. The first one was not exactly carefree: he ended up in the ER due to dehydration. He was a zombie for at least four days, and I was terrified. I know he was dreading the second infusion as soon as the first one was over. After all, going into something that he knew would make him sick wasn't something to look forward to. Luckily, the staff at NMH was, as always, on its A game and did some futzing around with the chemo dosage and anti-nausea meds. Apparently there is a good twenty percent of leeway when it comes to the dosage, and T's doc lowered his a bit to see if it would help.
Help it did. He has had very little nausea compared to the first time, and he has been able to eat and drink normally. He also figured out that although it is encouraged for chemo patients to eat before a treatment, it's not such a good idea for him. Hindsight. My amazing dad took T in for his treatment, and I spent the whole day trying to stay as busy as possible so I didn't think about what the effects might be. Imagine my surprise and delight when they arrived home and T wasn't clutching an emesis bag.
The sense of relief for me was immediate: I felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off my heart. I didn't realize how tense I had been, and then all I wanted to do was sleep for about twenty hours. T was obviously happy as well, and I think he slept well that night knowing that not every infusion would result in days and days of sickness and misery.
T is still fatigued, but he'll be able to fully participate in our family's holiday happenings. Even though there are still three days until Christmas Day, my Christmas wish has come true. I can't think of anything else that could make me as happy as this did. Well, unless someone got me a unicorn because that would be pretty cool.
From our home to yours, Merry Christmas, and may all of your Christmas wishes come true.