Avastin

I knew there was something else.

While researching Hand-Foot Syndrome, there was a Google link to Avastin. Why, I don't know, but Avastin is the drug I get at the same time as the chemo.

So I clicked and came across a WSJ article, probably a press release, about Avastin's effect on ovarian cancer.

Nice one, Roche!

And: My treatment came to 24,000€ last year (is that all?), of which we paid 1,000€.

I Have a Syndrome

First, my energised period didn't last a whole long time. Maybe half a day. Which is just as well since my feet have reached the point where I don't want to walk unless it's a matter of life and death. Or the bathroom.

And to think that only a couple of days have elapsed since I took the dogs for a long walk. That's Palmar-Plantar Erythrodysesthesia (PPE) for you. More familiarly known as Hand-Foot Syndrome. It has affected my feet and ankles and the tops and sides of my hands (not the palms, as indicated by what I've read so far). Evidently, ice does not help prevent it when using Taxol.

Following Wednesday's treatment, my right heel hurt so much, I can barely walk. I guess that I won't be going against the treatment advice and jogging.

Energized

I have noticed since the last couple of chemo sessions, that I feel fine the day afterwards. I do things, even, like translations or trying to design our new kitchen. This lasts for 2 or 3 days and then I start to go downhill. At least I have hope that one day I may actually do some chores around the house. And that they won't feel like chores.

Yesterday the nurse asked why I was wearing my moon boots. "They're the only shoes I can get into," I said. "And now my hands and face are affected, too." My face, so far, just has a few red blotches, but I anticipate the day when I won't be able to go anywhere without a veil.

She took one look at my hands and went to find the doctor. I now have two types of cortisone creams, one for my hands and feet and one for my face.

Whatever happened to white gloves now that I need them?

Nick does stuff, too

He's been laying the floor in the workshop machine room and taking down the ceiling to make a sturdy floor for the living room above.

Good Day in Hospital - II

The things I forgot when writing last post.

Told the doctor my neighbour made me up some homoeopathic oil for my feet and hands.

"It won't hurt," he said. Then, "As long as it doesn't cost too much. I hate it when it costs a lot." I reassured him that it was a gift. He felt better.

I have the impression he believes it's harmless -- and ineffective. And so far it isn't doing anything, but we'll go through another three weeks of chemo and decide.

I'm still on shots to augment my white blood counts. Told the doctor I still have leftover EPO for my red blood counts. "Save it," he said. "Don't be selling it to any cyclists." Told him I was going to be a cyclist. "Not yet," he said.

He asked me if the doctor in charge of my program in Lyon explained things to me in French or English. "French," I replied. . . pause. . . "Does he speak English?" "He must," said my new doctor.

Live and learn. But I think the doctors prefer to speak French to make sure they don't screw anything up. If I screw up, nothing lost.

Good Day in Hospital

My doctor is on vacation, so I had to see another one today. He was lovely. (He is, actually.) First he said, "Everything seems to be working for you, doesn't it?" That was cheery.

Then he said, "You're 70, aren't you?" "In July," I said. "You don't look it," he said. See? Lovely. "I've got the good genes and the bad genes," I said. "That's how it goes," he said, or some French equivalent.

My big toenail on the left foot is almost off. Infectious nephritis. I'll recover when the chemo is finished. The good part is that my left food doesn't hurt so much now. Now if the right one would go.

More Happy Dance

Went to the vet this morning and had another blood test. Nala's white blood count has fallen from just over 35 to just under 29. The amoxillin is working! Yea!

Back on Monday. Or Saturday if need be.