(Note to readers: Sometimes I post on the blog, too. If you’re looking for more of my posts, they can be found under the category “Stine Thoughts” on the list to the right.)

I’m happy to report that Brian made it out of his first chemotherapy treatment yesterday afternoon, and so far, it’s not as bad as we thought it was going to be! We have been told that his side-effects will get worse over the next few hours and days as the medication he was given through his IV wear off, and the next few days should be interesting to watch. The entire treatment took about three hours, but the nurse told us it will go faster once he has a chest IV port, and we get used to the routine.

The day started with us heading out on a few errands near the Group Health in Seattle, and then we arrived at the hospital a little early. That gave us time to head to the pharmacy to pick up the medication he will need today, and then we had a light lunch.

As we got closer to the treatment check-in time, Brian got more and more nervous.

"Maybe if I just sit here quiet and still, no one will make me actually go through with this." - Brian

Once we arrived at the “Chemotherapy Infusion Clinic”, a fantastic nurse with a New Zealand accent checked Brian in, gave us a tour, and started the process. Because Brian does not yet have a chest port (due to his apparent hemophiliac tenancies), the nurse started an IV in his hand, and we were off to the races!

Cancer Patient? Or... um... cancer patient?

After 5 minutes of chemo, he still had his hair! Bonus!

We heard from several people who have been through this before that it is important he stay hydrated during the chemo treatment to flush his system as quickly as possible after treatment. Brian took this information to heart.

All of that hydration did as nature intended, and he ended up using the restroom facilities several times during the three hours we were there. This was a little awkward, because he had to roll a large cart of IV’s and equipment along with him as he went to the bathroom.

To start, they gave him an IV of anti-anxiety drug, and anti-nausea medication. This got him into a relaxed state of mind, and after 45 minutes of chemo, he ate a snickers bar while watching Cash Cab on TV. After an hour he took a nap, and slept through most of the rest of the treatment.

He slept solidly on the way home, and woke up long enough to get into the house and onto the couch. He slept on the couch until his sister Tanya came over at about 8 (hi, Tanya!), and then went back to sleep until about 10. Then he had some popcorn, watched TV, and went to bed.

So far, so good. He has several medications he has to take at various times over the next few days, but so far it’s not as bad as we were thinking. Of course, things will change as his body is subjected to more treatments, and after he loses his hair, and after he has had his immune system challenged for a while. Only time will tell how he reacts over the next few days, but I’m hopeful, and Brian is in good spirits.

I’ll post again soon, but right now I have to go cut up little pieces of cheese to hide his pills in.

Stine here. Brian is resting comfortably after chemo yesterday, and it was pretty uneventful. Well, it was certainly a little silly.

Because Brian has been experiencing some “anticipatory nausea” when he thinks about getting in the car and driving to the hospital, he has been taking a relaxant medication before we leave the house. This medicine made him a little silly by the time he started chemo, and it had him in a pretty good mood when the nurse came around with a bag full of wigs that patients can have. He sampled the wares:

He looks good as a blond.

Needless to say, when I showed him this picture later in the evening, he had forgotten it was ever taken. =)

I am so thankful for his amazing sense of humor, and amazing optimism while being poked and prodded. Even when he’s receiving treatment, he keeps the nurses laughing and everyone around him smiling.

For example, somehow today we got into a conversation with our nurse about the “Chemotherapy and You” book, and how it contains a chapter on how to tell your children you have cancer, but not a chapter for how a twenty-something-year-old should tell their parents.

Nurse: “It must have been really difficult to tell your parents when you found out you were sick.”
Brian: “Yeah, it was pretty hard.”
Nurse: “It must be hard for them to not be able to do anything but watch you get treatment. Because you know a mother would cut off her arms for her children.”
Brian: “That’s why my mom only has one arm.”

…

I guess you kinda had to be there. Trust me, it was funny at the time. He says lots of funny stuff like that, all the time.

In September when he was diagnosed, he was worried that he wouldn’t be a “good” cancer patient, with a sunny outlook.  I don’t think he has to worry about that anymore.

Anyway, my point is, that Brian is handling this like a champ, and it keeps things in perspective for me when I’m dealing with a hard time at work, or get stuck in traffic. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’m so glad that he will be around to celebrate the rest of our lives together because of exactly the treatment he went through today. Modern medical technology is amazing, but I’m sure his charming personality has a lot to do with his treatment, too. =)

Stine here. Brian had chemo yesterday, and he spent the evening resting on the couch, and going to bed early.

For the record, those are two of my favorite things to do. Sometimes when Brian has chemo, for the few days afterward, it’s like he’s taking an interest in my hobbies. Resting and napping. But I digress.

He’s doing just fine after treatment, and I’m sure that once he starts to feel better early next week he will be glad that one more chemo session is behind him.

I’m having a hard time being patient. I keep telling him that in just a few short months he will be done, and in just a few short months, we will get on with our lives. But with days like today, and watching Brian sit through chemo, I keep getting impatient. I want to make him feel better RIGHT NOW, but there is nothing to do but wait.

I feel like a kid before Christmas morning when I think about what awaits us in the future when he’s better again, but we have a long night ahead of us before we get to the good stuff.

Maybe my focus on the future is the reason I am suffering from a serious case of spring fever right now. I could only wait until January 3 to pull out the gardening books, and I’ve been watching those very appealing “visit Hawaii” commercials very closely. I keep daydreaming about warmer weather, longer days, sun, and a healthy Brian to enjoy it all with.

While we wait for Brian to revisit the blog (read: wake up from his nap), let’s all enjoy a moment of Aloha, and focus on getting to the bright warm future. =)

Stine here. Yesterday was Brian’s chemo day, and it was made far more tolerable by the new iPad many of you so generously got for us. Have I told you yet how grateful we are? Brian spent almost the entire time on it, and from his perspective, the treatment flew by. I’m sure the Lorazepam helped, too, but he was able to sufficiently distract himself the whole time. So, one more time, we would like to say thank you:

Here he is in the chemo chair, thanking everyone for the gift.

Even though this was mainly Brian’s toy yesterday, I had a little fun with it, too:

I couldn’t resist. =)