I have to admit that I had no idea what hemoglobin was to be precise, I just knew it had to do with blood. Over the last half-year or so, my oncologist has mentioned my hemoglobin levels. But there were always more significant issues to talk about, so I never really put much thought into what she said. She also took the time to explain why hemoglobin is so essential.
Since I can’t remember exactly how my oncologist explained hemoglobin to me, I will share this definition from MedicineNet:
Hemoglobin is the protein molecule in red blood cells that carries oxygen from the lungs to the body’s tissues and returns carbon dioxide from the tissues back to the lungs.
What the oncologist said about my hemoglobin levels
First, my oncologist noted that my current hemoglobin levels are still within the acceptable range. It just that they have slowly but steadily increased. Right now, my hemoglobin levels are right at the top of the acceptable range. If things continue like they are, it is likely my hemoglobin levels will be out of range in a future appointment.
Increased hemoglobin means my body is trying to get more oxygen throughout my body. In my case, the oncologist believes two possible underlying conditions may be causing my body to need more oxygen. These conditions are sleep apnea and being a smoker.
First, I have sleep apnea and possibly am not wearing my CPAP mask as much as I should. I probably wear my CPAP mask about half the time when sleeping. It has been very hard getting used to wearing a mask at night. Of the times I do wear a mask, I am usually only keeping my mask on for part of the night. Sometime during the night, I will usually remove the mask while sleeping.
Looking forward, I am going to try wearing the mask more consistently. I get better quality sleep when wearing the mask. It is just so annoying to try keeping it on.
The second factor noted by the doctor is the fact I am a smoker. She wants me to focus on stopping smoking now. Smoking is an issue I plan to blog about soon (by request of many fellow cancer survivors). In this post, I will say that I will be trying to quit again. But this is a very complicated issue that many cancer patients wish to avoid speaking about with others. It does, however, make sense that smoking would cause the body to want more oxygen.
What I plan going forward
Going forward, I plan to tackle both areas the oncologist pointed out to me. First, I plan to ensure that I am always going to bed with my CPAP on. Even if I travel, I will bring the machine with me and use it. Second, I once again plan to quit smoking. I know I should want to. But a big part of me does not want to stop, and I’ll wait for a future post to discuss that. Hopefully, by making these changes, or at least attempting to do better, my hemoglobin levels will stop rising.
Song of the day: Let It Bleed
Talking about blood brought this classic Rolling Stones song to mind. It’s actually a really good song for anyone going through cancer because having a good support structure is important. The opening verse explains it all:
Well, we all need someone we can lean on And if you want it, you can lean on me Yeah, we all need someone we can lean on And if you want it, you can lean on me
Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed
This is a great live version of the song from 1998.
Bonus Song: Give Blood
Lyrically, Give Blood is not one of Pete Townshend’s (The Who) greatest songs. But this song features David Gilmour (Pink Floyd) on guitar and musically is one of my favorite Townshend songs. The fact it happens to be named Give Blood is enough reason for me to use it with this post.
Earlier today, the IV injected me with my latest maintenance round of Rituximab. When speaking to my oncologist, she noted it was a year ago that I had my first round of maintenance. That means I am technically halfway through my maintenance experience. In this post, I will briefly summarize how my last year of maintenance has gone.
Today was once again a non-event. There was one highlight. Since my wife is working at the tax office, she was not able to bring me to today’s infusion. Instead, I was fortunate to hang out with a friend who was generous to bring me. Well, at least for the parts I was able to stay awake.
I did speak with my oncology doctor, and she let me know my hemoglobin numbers are concerning. Later this week I will post about that. There are some changes I’m probably going to have to work harder on specific life changes. She also talked about my short term memory issues and said if they continue or become dangerous (such as when driving), we may look at other options.
There was one significant change today compared to other maintenance infusions. To get into town this morning, I had to drive through whiteout blizzard conditions. I did not want my friend to do that to bring me home. So instead of resting at home like I usually would, I am now at the office working. Well, not working since I am a little dizzy when moving around. But, I can write, and so I thought a blog post or two on my various blogs was in order. I am happy I don’t have brain fog as bad as while I was going through full chemo.
Happy to be halfway through
I am thrilled to be halfway through maintenance. While I have had some side-effects, I don’t see any of them as being deal-breakers. Short-term memory loss is concerning. But that seems to ebb and flow alongside maintenance infusions. And I don’t mind the “wrong” feeling that occurs after each maintenance cycle. I will put up with these mild side-effects if it means more time with my wife and kids! But I will say I am also delighted that I am now on the downhill side of maintenance infusions.
Song of the day: One Year of Love
I’ve been in a real Queen mood lately. When writing a post about being on maintenance for one year, this classic Queen song came to mind. And actually, it is the love for my wife and kids that is making me want to do maintenance.
Bonus Song: Me & Paul
Today’s bonus song has nothing to with today’s post.
Earlier this week Paul English died. He was the legendary drummer for Willie Nelson and quite an interesting character. The track Me & Paul by Willie Nelson chronicles some of the adventures the two artists had together. RIP Paul English.
Actually as I contemplate the lyrics of this classic song I think maybe the song is related to today’s post:
It’s been rough and rocky traveling But I’m finally standing upright on the ground After taking several readings I’m surprised to find my mind’s still fairly sound
A loyal reader of the blog asked if I would do a post about whether I drank alcohol while I went through chemotherapy. The short answer for me is no. But this wouldn’t be much of a blog if I gave quick answers! In this post, I will explain why I didn’t drink during chemo and what I can drink now that I am on maintenance infusions. Further, I should note that most other chemo patients I’ve spoken to about this topic seem to have different answers about whether they do or don’t drink while going through treatment.
My alcohol use before chemo
I should probably briefly mention first that I did very little alcohol drinking in the year leading up to chemo. At the time I didn’t know I had cancer, but I knew there was something very wrong with me. I had problems breathing and was seeing doctors for what was suspected to be a pulmonary issue. At that time I could not drink beer at all. I would get an upset stomach with just one beer. If I had more than one beer my stomach would start to hurt badly. I could drink liquors such as my drink of choice whiskey. But even then I drank very little because of very low energy levels.
No alcohol use during chemo
While going through R-CHOP chemo, I did not even try any alcohol, whether it be beer or liquor. I don’t believe the oncologist said I couldn’t. Basically, I didn’t feel like drinking alcohol. The fatigue and other symptoms I generally felt didn’t leave me feeling like I could drink alcohol.
Out of curiosity, I just looked in the “Guide to Chemotherapy” given to me by the oncology staff. In there it says:
Small amounts of alcohol can help you relax and increase your appetite. But alcohol may interact with some drugs so that they don’t work as well, or it may make the side effects worse. Be sure to ask your doctor if you can drink beer, wine, or any other alcoholic beverages.
A Guide to Chemotherapy by American Cancer Society
My advice to anyone wanting to drink alcohol while going through chemo is to speak to your oncologist beforehand.
Alcohol use now that I’m on maintenance infusions
I have been on maintenance therapy infusions of Rituximab for about a year now. After about two months of being on maintenance infusions, I did try drinking alcohol again. First, I tried a beer. Not only did it still impact my stomach, but it seemed worse than before. After drinking half a beer, my stomach started to hurt badly. I don’t know if it is a side-effect from chemo, a side-effect from maintenance, or a side-effect of something else I don’t know I have. No matter what the leading cause is, I’ve decided not to try beer again any time soon!
Now liquor I’ve found doesn’t impact my stomach. I don’t appear to have any adverse side-effects from drinking whiskey, rum, or vodka. Actually, I seem to have some pretty good tolerance for drinking liquor, probably due to the weight gain I experienced during chemo. Generally, I don’t drink more than a couple of mixed drinks. But I have found I can drink quite a lot without adverse effects.
If in doubt I would ask a doctor
For anyone reading this wondering if they can or can’t drink alcohol while going through chemo or maintenance, I would say to ask your doctor. Speaking for myself, I haven’t read anything that authoritatively says alcohol use should be avoided. But I know many of the drugs we take are hard on the liver and kidney; therefore, they may interact poorly with alcohol. At the same time, however, life is short! It seems even shorter when you have a cancer diagnosis.
Song of the Day: Mas Tequila
When thinking of liquor, the first thing that came to mind is this excellent party song from Sammy Hagar. Personally, I’m not a fan of Tequila, but I love the heck out of this song.
Bonus Song: Whiskey in the Jar
The Thin Lizzy version of this classic Irish drinking song is one of my favorite songs to listen to at the bar. Actually, I tend to sing along as well when I’ve had a whiskey or two. I also happen to love the Metallica version of this song, but the Thin Lizzy version is still the best, in my opinion.
Bonus Bonus Song: Friends in Low Places
This Garth Brooks song is probably one of the greatest songs to sing with a group at the bar. A drinking bingo night the wife and I went to was basically shut down for almost ten minutes while the bar sang this song. That was a good night…
For a little over a year, I have had a port in my chest to receive infusions. Last week I had this port removed. With it gone, I keep finding myself reaching for where the port was and almost missing it. In this post, I will briefly explain why I had the port taken out and why I would miss such a thing being in my chest.
My port was a problem from the start
In early September of 2018, I had my port installed. Usually, getting a port installed is a short routine procedure. My surgery took a long time, and the surgeon ran into multiple problems. I had so many cancerous lymph nodes in my chest that the surgeon couldn’t install the port on either side of my chest and enter a vein right by the heart. Instead, the surgeon had to run the ports catheter up my neck and into my jugular vein. I still remember seeing all the holes in my chest from the different attempts made by the surgeon to install the port.
My port catheter became retracted
Last fall, while I was still going through chemo, I had an appointment with my pulmonary doctor for long-term breathing issues, which have plagued me for many years. During that appointment, an x-ray tech took a picture of my lungs, and my port because they are in the same place. The good news from that x-ray is that no fluid was present in my lungs. But at the same time, the x-ray notes mentioned something about the port catheter being “retracted.” In this post, I tell the tale of the retracted port. The catheter going from the port to my heart had a loop in it; that was causing the retraction. I’ve also included my drawing of what the retracted port catheter looked like in the x-ray.
Knowing about the retracted port catheter apparently caused my problems to start. During round five of chemo (Dec 5, 2018), my port would not allow blood to be drawn. It would allow fluids into my body, but blood could not be drawn out of the body. Another x-ray was taken. The loop in the catheter was gone. Instead of looped, the catheter was folded up like a J. My post about that experience is here.
From there on, it was hit and miss whether my port would allow blood to be drawn. The port did get me through all six rounds of chemotherapy and almost a year of maintenance infusions. It was quite annoying on the days the port did not work. I would have to sit in weird positions, pretend to cough, and a multitude of other things in the hopes the catheter would allow blood draws.
The final straw.
During my latest round of maintenance, the nurse was unable once again to get a blood return. Unlike previous times, this time, there wouldn’t even be a small hint of red. Nothing at all would return. It was at this point the oncology staff and I decided it was time for the port to go. The port was there to protect my veins from a couple of hazardous chemo drugs I had last year. For maintenance infusions, the port is nice but is not needed.
Getting the port taken out
After getting the OK from the doctor, the oncology staff made an appointment for my port to be removed. Within the week, I would have my port out. That appointment happened last week. Honestly, there is nothing to report about this appointment. A local numbing shot was used, and he took it out in his small procedure room. No hospital check-in was required.
I think the whole procedure took about twenty minutes. The surgeon made a small incision to remove the port. With the catheter still attached to the port, the surgeon then pulled the catheter out. There was a weird tingling feeling as the surgeon pulled the catheter out. That is all there is to report about this procedure. Luckily it went much smoother than the surgery to install the port.
Now I miss the port
It has been a week now that I’ve had the port out. Oddly I’ve found myself missing the port. Over the last year, the port had indeed become a part of me. I mean that more in a spiritual way because obviously, it was a physical part of me. When I was stressed out for any reason, I would find myself rubbing my fingers over the port. I would also rub the port area when I was trying to think of how to phrase a sentence while writing. Looking back, I don’t think I realized I was doing this. But I can remember doing it often enough that I know I must have been rubbing the port a lot.
Oddly I think the port had become something of a worry stone for me. This odd relationship with my port created something of a situation after getting the port taken out. While the incision site didn’t hurt, it was tender. I found myself rubbing the area and getting reminded by a shot of pain that no port was there anymore. Now that the tenderness is gone, I think I’ve finally retrained myself not to try rubbing the port.
Hopefully, I won’t need another port
Even though I kind of weirdly find myself missing the port, I do not want another port installed. If that were to happen, it would mean I’m starting full-blown chemo again. My biggest hope right now is that I will be in remission long enough that a better treatment method will be available for me. I hope this for all cancer patients. Yes, there are some great newer treatments, such as CAR-T therapy, but even those treatments are failing on some patients. I genuinely hope for a day where ports are no longer necessary for cancer patients.
Song of the Day – Mr Roboto
At a cancer charity event a while back, I was talking with a young child who also had a port installed. He felt an instant connection to me when he found out I also had a port installed. One thing we did was sing the chorus of this song together since the ports make us cyborgs.
Bonus songs – Christmas concert
The bonus song has nothing to do with this post. It is the three videos I took of my two youngest sons at their school’s Christmas Concert. They are a big part of why I have been doing everything I can to fight off cancer.
The first one is my middle song Lawson playing percussion with the HS band. In the fourth song, he plays the spoons (like out of the kitchen drawer spoons).
Up next is Lawson singing with the HS Choir.
And last, but not least, is my youngest son Ashton singing with the 7th-grade choir.
Two days ago I had my fifth round maintenance therapy. I’ve had some followers of the blog ask me to write about my latest round. They wish for me to compare my current experience to that of my first round. Hopefully sharing this will give those going through maintenance, and family members of those going through maintenance, an idea of what ongoing treatments are like.
Maintenance always starts with a vitals check.
Every maintenance always begins the same way. The nurse will check my weight. This part of maintenance is the part I dread the most. While going through chemo, I gained a lot of weight. Going through maintenance, I have been unable to lose much of that increased weight. I know I should be happy due to the number of people who suffer massive weight loss. But this is still one of my most significant stresses, and no matter how much I try, it doesn’t seem I can lose weight.
The nurse then brings me into a room and checks my vitals. My blood pressure, oxygen, and temperature are the main vitals checked by the nurse. I never really worry about this part. My vitals are usually right in the range they need to be. Actually I this part of the appointment annoys my wife. She has high blood pressure and has never had readings as good as mine.
During the previous round of maintenance, my port worked with no problems. This past success led me to believe the port would have issues this time. What I mean by the port having issues is that blood will not ‘return’ when the nurse tries to draw blood through the port. Any time the port doesn’t work, I have to sit in weird positions and move my arms and neck around in the hope that blood will return through the port. Sometimes that works. If not, I get about a dozen syringes of a cleaner sent through the port to open it up. That usually eventually works. But it takes a lot of time, and each time the port doesn’t work I want to have the dang thing taken out and use a regular IV for now on. Technically since I am no longer doing regular chemo, I no longer need the port. It is just a lot more convenient to use than an IV.
As luck would have it though, my port worked! This was two times in a row my port worked with no issues. Maybe my port knew I was looking to get rid of it and decided its time to behave. It is quite possible the retraction that had been there has disappeared completely. Whatever the reason my port is now functioning properly. The nurse was able to draw blood with no problems.
As luck would have it though, my port worked! Two times in a row my port worked with no issues! Maybe my port knew I was looking to get rid of it and decided its time to behave. The retraction that had been there may have disappeared altogether. For whatever reason, my port is now functioning correctly. The nurse was able to draw blood with no problems.
Time to visit with the nurse.
After the blood draw, there is a wait while the lab does its testing to make sure I can receive my maintenance infusion. During that time I meet with either the oncologist or the CNP. Both of them have my utmost respect and trust. In this case it was the CNP’s turn to try getting the truth out of me. I say that because I don’t always mention all of my symptoms. During those times, my wife will pipe in and happily let the nurse or doctor know what I had failed to say.
During this visit, I let the CNP know my symptoms after the previous round. MY latest symptoms include a couple of days of absolutely no sleep; which was likely caused by the steroids. Then I would have a flu-like feeling throughout my body for about a week or two. For the rest of the eight weeks I would have low energy and a constant cough. The low energy and cough seem to get better the week before getting my next maintenance infusion.
After letting the CNP know I hadn’t had any other notable event, my wife spoke up. She mentioned a few weeks ago that I had banged my heel very hard and that I had possibly broken it. I explained I don’t think it had broken, just very badly bruised. Neither my wife or the CNP seemed impressed that I failed to have it checked out. But having enough of these types of injuries, I already knew what I had to do. Plus, I have had so many scans over the last year I didn’t want another x-ray. I will admit though; my heel hurt pretty badly this previous weekend walking around the convention center in Sioux Falls all day every day.
The nurse then talked to me about my sleeping issues. I won’t go into that in this post and will instead do a separate post about it in the future.
A surprise visit from the oncologist.
I usually don’t see the CNP and Oncologist during the same appointment. In this case, the oncologist came in to let me know my numbers had mostly looked good from the blood draw. She has concerns that my hemoglobin continues to go higher each appointment. My rising hemoglobin counts will be another topic I will save for a future post.
It is also possible the oncologist made an appearance because I had a camera crew following me this day, and they wanted to have her in some of the video footage. I had a camera crew with me to shoot a marketing piece for the hospital. Since I am so open about my experience on this blog, I had no problems letting them film me.
Time for the pretreatment drugs.
After the initial vital checks and interrogations, I am then led to an infusion room. These pretreatment drugs are used to prevent the normal reactions many patients have while receiving the maintenance drug Rituximab (Rituxin). First, I am given two Tylenol caplets and injected with Benadryl through my port. A saline bag is started and will continue to drip for the rest of the appointment, and I receive a small pretreatment bag of steroids via my port. Most people who use the Tylenol, Benadryl, and steroid mix seem to have few if any issues going through maintenance.
My vitals are rechecked before proceeding with the actual maintenance infusion. IT is at this point I start getting very tired. Apparently I am very susceptible to the “may cause drowsiness” portion of Benadryl. The rest of the appointment goes very quickly for me because I am going in an out of sleep.
Finally, the actual infusion of Rituxin
At this point, I finally receive my infusion of Rituxin. The infusion is split into two steps. First, they drip the Rituxin into my port slowly for a half hour. By going slow, any allergic reactions can be observed and dealt with immediately. A nurse will also recheck my vitals to ensure nothing is going wrong. As usual, there are no problems with this initial injection of Rituxin.
The rest of the Rituxin bag is then infused into my port over the next hour. I rarely remember this portion of maintenance due to the Benadryl. This time, in particular, it felt like about five minutes instead of a full hour. I don’t remember it this time, but I know they also check my vitals one last time. My vitals must have been OK because I was then released.
As usual, maintenance was a nonevent.
Maintenance day is pretty boring. Usually, it is just my vitals getting checked a lot, speaking with the oncologist or CNP, and then having all the drugs forced into my body. Part of me is happy maintenance is a nonevent. I’ve spoken with patients that had terrible reactions to Rituxin. The worse case I’ve heard of was a cancer patient whose throat closed, and heart started beating irregularly. Luckily nothing like that has happened to me when receiving Rituxin.
Hopefully, sharing this will alleviate any of the fears for other people who are about to go through maintenance. For most people, it is a nonevent. The only person I think maintenance treatment is hard on is the loved one that comes along for the appointment. In this case, my wife is the loved one there with me and watching over me as I sleep through the infusion.
Song of the day.
Today’s song is only marginally related to the post. When I writing about a possible broken bone the line ” Muscle and blood and skin and bones” came to my mind. I love this classic song from Tennessee Ernie Ford. Luckily I am now self-employed so I don’t have to worry about owing my soul to the company store..
My song of the day really had nothing to do with today’s post. So I thought I would make my second song even less related to today’s. The Highwaymen is the greatest super-group ever to have been assembled and this song was their crowning achievement. Even though this song isn’t related I often find myself singing this song. In particular I will sing “But I am still alive”. Actually, maybe this song is related…
Earlier this week I shared my current state of sleeplessness. This sleeplessness has plagued me since going through chemotherapy and now while I am going through maintenance infusions (only a year and half of infusions left). In this post I will share a few ways this lack of sleep has been impacting my personal life.
Avoiding going out in public
Recently I have tended to avoid going out in public. It just takes too much energy to look alert; and pretending to feel good takes a lot of energy! Plus I have the constant cough (part of the reason I can’t sleep) which tends to make other people nervous. A few weeks ago while having breakfast with my family at Perkins, I went into a coughing fit and I could overhear someone nearby saying “someone that sick shouldn’t be at a restaurant.” I know I also looked quite tired at the time because I didn’t drink my normal energy drink that I like to use prior to going out in public. Part of me agreed with the person making the comment that I shouldn’t be out in public.
There are other factors that also make me nervous to go out in public. One factor is the two front teeth I am missing (chemo was tremendously hard on my teeth). I won’t have these teeth fixed for a couple more months. Trying to talk with teeth missing is not an experience I enjoy. That means that when I do go out in public I try to avoid talking.
The boys are afraid to speak with me at times
Any time I appear to be tired (which seems like always) my boys avoid speaking with me. Lately I have become very short tempered when asked questions. I know it is because of my lack of sleep and I am just too mentally tired to try thinking of answers. But I also know the boys are trying their best to keep me from snapping at them, and so they try to avoid speaking to me when I am tired. Of course the steroids I take with each round of maintenance probably makes my temperment even worse.
I have tried to battle my short temper with the boys. Each morning I drink a natural energy drink to bring myself up to full alertness. Throughout the day I will try other drinks or supplements to keep myself alert. By keeping myself alert throughout the day I have noticed I tend to get less moody. The only problem is once these supplements wear off I crash hard and feel like I am in a daze. Unfortunately I don’t crash hard enough to actually sleep. At most I will go in and out of short spurts of dozing.
Unable to sleep in my own bed
When laying down my coughing appears to get worse. Due to that I spend most nights on my recliner. I don’t necessarily sleep much better on the recliner. But in my head I have felt this is better because at least I’m not keeping my wife awake. Of course that puts an extra strain on the relationship with my wife.
My wife and I love each other very much. We both have talked about this current situation with me sleeping in the recliner and both agree it is a good short-term solution. But we have been married enough years that we are used to sleeping in the same bed and feel almost lost without having each other nearby. She won’t say anything, but I know when I first started sleeping on the recliner that she feared I was sleeping elsewhere because of something she did. That of course isn’t true. But nonetheless I know she felt that way.
Plus my sleeping in another bed increases the feeling she has that I am going away soon. There have been some scares with my cancer diagnosis and treatment. She wants to spend as much time with me now, just in case something happens and I am no longer around. My sleeping in another room seems to make her feel that I am almost gone. That is another reason I am giving on up sleeping in the recliner.
Hopefully my personal life will return to normal soon
I am hoping my sleep patterns will go somewhat back to normal soon. My current sleeplessness is just having too big of an impact on my personal life. In particular I am afraid that the relationships I have with my wife and kids could become strained if something doesn’t change. Ironically as I write this post I just received a call from a sleep specialist I had been referred to. Hopefully he will be able to figure something out for me.
Song of the day
I’m not much of a drinker these days. But this great song from George Thorogood sums up my feelings about going out in public.
The bonus song doesn’t have a lot to do with today’s post. There are times I feel like a zombie, which brings this classic 80’s track to mind. I always thought the Hooters were an underrated group. This particular line from the song does come to mind though:
Sitting in the dark, living all by themselves You don’t have to hide anymore
A constant theme from my cancer experience has been a lack of quality sleep. The lack of sleep has definitely impacted my personal and professional life immensely. Actually the reason I haven’t really blogged in the last few weeks is because I have felt too tired to do so (of course the other reason is I am working on creating a new podcast and a new video series). In this post I will briefly explain my current sleep habits. Later this week I will highlight how my personal and professional life has been impacted. Sharing this may help some other cancer patients in similar situations understand they are not alone.
Current sleep status (or lack of sleep status)
Currently I get only about three to four hours of sleep a night. Additionally, each week I will go one or two nights with no sleep at all. My current sleep issues seem to stem from multiple causes. First, I seem to have lost the ability to fall asleep. And secondly, I have a cough that won’t go away; which in turn wakes me up if I do happen to fall asleep.
As to not being able to fall asleep I have tried many cures. People have shared with me what works for them and I have tried almost everything that has been suggested. The only real thing that seems to work is to become so exhausted that my body has no choice other than to fall asleep. Part of me believes I also have problems going to sleep because I know I will be up shortly anyhow, so why bother trying.
Which leads to my cough. Since being on chemo, and now Rituximab (my maintenance drug), I have a cough that won’t go away. Sometimes I can go up to an hour without coughing. Then at other times I cough at least every five minutes. Laying down seems to make the coughing worse. Due to this I now sleep on a recliner, so I can keep my head and chest higher. This doesn’t really seem to help much at all. But I continue to do so because I feel I keep my wife awake all night when I sleep in the bed. I’m probably going to give up on the recliner idea and go back to sleeping in bed however. I fear if I spend too much time away from the bedroom it will make my wife feel she is somehow to blame; which is completely the wrong signal I want to send.
Results from the pulmonary doctor
I have gone through two sleep studies. Recently I had an appointment with my pulmonary doctor about my cough and sleep study results. He noted that on average I get about 9 non-breathing events per hour going through the sleep study. However when I entered REM sleep I would get about 66 non-breathing events per hour. He noted this is very dangerous and is the reason I was prescribed a CPAP. Since staring to use the CPAP he has noted I only get a few non-breathing events per hour, that is whether or not I am in REM sleep. So the CPAP seems to be doing what it is supposed to. But at the same time it has not fixed my other sleeping issues, other than to make sure I stay in REM sleep a little longer. I will admit I do feel better rested using the CPAP, even if the overall amount of sleep I get is not much longer.
Other than the breathing while sleeping, none of the tests or scans ordered by the pulmonary doctor have yielded any results. There are some minor lung issues that have to do with being a lifelong smoker. But nothing he is seeing would explain my constant cough.
Currently I believe the cough is just a side-effect of the maintenance drug Rituximab that gets infused into my body every eight weeks. Actually for about two weeks leading up to my maintenance infusions the coughing does seem to become less. Then about five days after my infusions the cough begins to get worse. I have spoken with other cancer patients who are experiencing the same side-effect with Rituximab. Since the maintenance infusions will likely keep me in remission longer, I guess I’ll just put up with this annoying side-effect.
Up next: how lack of sleep is impacting my life
In this post I briefly shared the current status of my sleeplessness. Later this week I will share how this lack of sleep is impacting my personal and professional life. This will likely be in two posts. Hopefully sharing my experience may help other cancer patients understand they are not alone. And maybe I’ll receive a sleep tip I haven’t tried yet that might actually work. I look forward to day when I am no longer tired of of being tired.
Song of the day
Today’s song really doesn’t have much to do with the bog post. Recently Ric Ocasek, lead singer for The Cars, died and I thought I would post one of my favorite songs from them. I’ve never been a huge fan of The Cars, but they definitely had some good songs. Plus I think this is great example of an 80’s music video.
The bonus song also has nothing to do with today’s post, other than the fact pulmonary doctors deal with lungs. This classic/weird song from Jethro Tull is just timeless. I like this version because I shows Ian Anderson in action.
Bonus, Bonus song
Jethro Tull has another song that comes to mind when talking about lungs and breathing. Plus this is another chance to see Ian Anderson in action.
Last week I was in the cancer center for my fourth infusion of Rituximab. This brings me up to half a year of being in remission. Since I did a post after my first round of maintenance infusions, I thought it would be appropriate to blog about the side-effects from this latest round.
Lack of sleep is still the main side-effect
My whole cancer experience has been an ongoing tale of sleeplessness. About a month ago I wrote about my sleep issues and included this chart showing how much sleep I get (or don’t get).
The above chart shows I really don’t get enough sleep. Now compare that to the chart below. This new chart shows all of last week and this week up until today (Friday):
It would appear I am getting more sleep by the pure numbers. My average seems to have increased to almost five hours per night. However that isn’t really true. My maintenance treatment was on the 7th of August. Notice how the 7th through the 10th (Saturday) have no sleep recorded. This was not a glitch of my fitbit. I really didn’t get any sleep those nights. Then for a few days I got very little sleep. Finally for the last two nights I got a good six hours. This has been great getting that much sleep, but I know it is probably unlikely to happen a third night in a row. Plus I didn’t have any sleep at all on Wednesday, which was prior to my two good nights of sleep.
My wife will probably read this and think “but I remember him sleeping those nights”. Well, no, I wasn’t. I tried to sleep and acted like I was sleeping. Mostly it was in the hope that pretending to sleep would make actually fall asleep. It didn’t work. One morning when she was sneaking around hoping not to wake me I actually had some headphones on listening to a audio book. I was desperate and trying anything to get sleep.
I’ve tried many things to try getting sleep. But it seems that for about a week following maintenance treatment that my already poor sleep schedule will become even worse. To keep my spirits up I just keep in mind that maintenance treatments should keep me in remission longer. A little lack of sleep due to maintenance treatments is a small price to pay for keeping cancer at bay.
Getting irritated about my irritability
Just as with the first round of maintenance, during this round I experienced some definite irritability. I don’t know if it is due to the steroids I’m given, or the fact my body just doesn’t feel right. No matter what the cause it seems to get worse each round. I find myself spending the week after maintenance trying to avoid people so I don’t fly off the handle at anyone.
There have been a few times in the last week I wasn’t able to refrain from snapping at people. Unfortunately it is usually my wife or my boys that are the receiving end of my irritability. They will feel hurt afterwards and left wondering what they did wrong. In all reality they probably did nothing wrong. It was just me being irritable for no reason at all. Luckily I have a great family and they seem to forgive my sudden irritable outbursts.
Just not feeling right
I mentioned above that I just don’t feel right after maintenance. This is a hard one to explain. Part me feels like I have light, almost flu-like, symptoms going throughout my whole body. But even that isn’t the right description of how I feel. All I can say is that the week following maintenance I feel “wrong”. Somehow every part of my body feels like something is physically wrong. But there isn’t any pain or anything like that. Perhaps it is all in my mind. Luckily that side-effect seems to last just under a week.
A year and a half of maintenance infusions left.
Lack of sleep, irritability, and feeling “wrong” are the main side-effects of maintenance I seem to experience. Technically I am a quarter of the way through my maintenance infusions. That leaves me with a year and a half of infusions left to go. Yes, even with these side-effects I plan to continue maintenance therapy. I’ve blogged previously about why I decided to go ahead with maintenance therapy, and still believe it is the right thing to do. I’ll just continue to put up with any side-effects in the hope I can gain more quality time with my family.
Today’s song: Behind Blue Eyes
I’m a big fan of The Who. Quite often during the past week I’ve had these lyrics stuck in my head:
No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through
Those lyrics seem to have taken on an extreme meaning for me the week following maintenance. My family and neighbors may think I snap a lot during this time, but they have no idea just how often I am biting my tongue to keep the anger from showing.
Bonus song: Who Are You
I thought sticking with The Who would be appropriate for this post. Actually I often ask myself this question after going into a fit of maintenance rage.
Bonus Bonus Song: Basket Case
This song keeps coming in my mind during maintenance week as well. Maybe I should talk my kids rock band into learning it. Its a great song, even if I’m not keeping it my head for the right reasons…
One question that seems to come up for a lot of chemo and maintenance patients is whether they will be able to work while getting treatment. The answer seems to vary widely depending upon how each person reacts to treatment. In this post, I will share my experience of working while on chemo and maintenance therapy.
I should establish what I do for work
Before actually discussing my ability to work while on chemo and maintenance I suppose I should establish what I do for a living. The main this I do is write. I used to write a blog about South Dakota Politics called SoDakLiberty. When I became sick last year it just honestly became too much to keep up with that blog, and I stopped. Plus the amount of time I put into the blog really didn’t align well with what little revenue I got. To replace that I now do research and ghostwriting for others about politics. Ghostwriting isn’t a bad gig, but it does keep my name from being connected to stories I am quite proud of writing.
Additionally I am working on two different books. One is almost completed and I hope to publish it at the end of this year. The other is in need of major rewrites; more on that later in this post.
Finally, my wife and I own a tax and business services office. For the office I act as the IT guy and quality control. This time of year I am absolutely swamped. I have been spending about fourteen to sixteen hours a day for the last few weeks reviewing returns. Luckily I can do this from home by remotely connecting into my computer at the office. With corporate deadline being this Friday I should soon be able to slow down a little bit.
Working while on chemo was tough for me
From September through December of last year I was on chemo. During the first few rounds of chemo my side effects seemed pretty mild. The main two side effects that would impact my work was fatigue and brain fog. Fatigue is an obvious one that would affect someone who is trying to write. It is challenging to put words together when all you can think about is sleeping.
The brain fog, or chemo brain as it is often called, was by far a worse side effect impacting my ability to work. It was dreadfully difficult to write while my brain fog was at its worse. I found it difficult to put words in the correct order. Actually much of what I wrote at that time came out almost like dialogue from a Tarzan cartoon. I would then go back and rewrite those sentences many times. Doing a five hundred word post would take me a few hours at that rate. As a comparison, I am almost up to five hundred words in this post and have been writing for about fifteen minutes.
As chemo went on I found a way to combat the brain fog. Each morning I would play word and logic games for anywhere from one to three hours. This worked great. After playing these games, my ability to put words together seemed to be back to almost full capacity. As time went on I didn’t have to spend as much time playing these games. By the end of chemo I would only have to play these game about fifteen to thirty minutes a day to clear the fog.
During this time I did very little work for the office. The girls seemed to be afraid they would be an imposition on my recovery. At the time though I wish they had sent me more work as I was going stir crazy!
The fog wasn’t lifted as much as I thought during chemo
As I said, during chemo I was using word and logic games to clear the brain fog. This seemed to work well enough. Looking back at the posts I wrote I am mostly happy with what was published (I’m never 100% satisfied with my work). But then I recently looked at four chapters of a book I wrote at that time. To put it mildly, those four chapters are a disaster. None of the paragraphs seem to tie into each other, and I am continually switching directions in each section. It is as if I wrote each section in those chapters without actually knowing what was written previously. It is so bad that I have decided editing isn’t going to work. I have now deleted all four chapters and will have to start over. It was earlier this month I deleted those chapters, and I must admit a certain amount of depression occurred for a couple of days afterward.
Working while on maintenance
Maintenance has been a different matter. The work I have done on my book since being on maintenance has been normal. The cutoff point between a disorganized mess and actual writing appears to be about one month after finishing my final round of chemo. From that time on I only see the usual grammatical issues I suffer from (such as ending a sentence with a preposition).
It was also around that time I really had to step up and start working for the office more. Tax season hits hard at the end of January and continues hard until mid-March. This is because March 1 is the deadline for farm returns; which our office has a lot of farmer clients. And March 15 is called corporate deadline; which is when partnerships and S-Corps are due. Earlier I noted that I have been putting in long hours. For the last few weeks on a typical day I am working at least fourteen hours a day, shuffling kids between school and activities, and trying to write at least a thousand words either on a book or blog post. Part of this is possible due to my inability to sleep.
Insomnia has not relented now that I am on maintenance. Just prior to maintenance it appeared I was starting to sleep a little bit longer each night. After maintenance I am now back to only a few hours of sleep per night. Today as an example I went to bed about two AM and was up at about five AM. My work doesn’t seem impacted at all. Actually, I am able to write better than I have for ages. Perhaps sleep is overrated after all.
Time to get back to work
Now that I am over a thousand words in this post I probably should get back to reviewing tax returns; corporate deadline is this Friday after all! In this post all I really wanted to do was share my experience trying to work and write while on chemo and maintenance. When tax season ends, I can get back to writing and find out for sure whether the brain fog no longer impacts my ability to write books.
Song of the day: Working in a coal mine
No, I don’t work in a coal mine. But writing a post about working just made this song pop into my head. This version of the song became a massive hit for Lee Dorsey back in the 60’s.
Bonus song: Play Something Sweet
The above song was written by Allen Toussaint. He wrote and produced a large number of hits back in the day. This track from Three Dog Night is also a Toussaint song. It wasn’t one of Three Dog’s biggest hits, but I’ve always liked the song. Plus it happens to be about a person trying to perform their job, being a musician in this case.
Bonus Bonus Song: I never been to Spain
This song is not written by Toussaint. Hoyt Axton wrote this hit and it is one of my favorite Three Dog Night songs. Music has helped me get through many tough times in my life, including fighting cancer. Songs like this remind me that in this huge world I am very happy to be here with my family.
It has been just a little over a week and a half since I had my maintenance infusion of Rituximab. Overall I would say maintenance has gone well for me. But I have experienced some side-effects. In this post, I will share how the last week and a half has gone for me.
Lack of sleep is back in full force!
In the post about my maintenance treatment, I mentioned taking a four-hour nap afterward. Unfortunately, that seems to be about the longest I’ve slept over the last couple of weeks. That night I slept for only a couple of hours. At the time I hoped my lack of sleep was due to having taken such a long nap. I also believed the steroids given to me during the maintenance infusion might have caused the sleeplessness. Both of those reasons could have been true for that night, but wouldn’t explain my sleeplessness since.
Since maintenance I seem to get about three to four hours of sleep a night. Every four or five days I seem to sleep about six or seven hours, most likely my body trying to catch up on sleep. I did have sleep issues prior to maintenance, but at that time I was back up to five or six hours of sleep every night. It is possible my sleep apnea is getting worse. This week I actually go back for a second sleep study to get a CPAP machine set up in order to help me sleep. I’m not really looking forward to sleeping with a CPAP machine. But then if it actually helps me sleep better at night I’m all for it.
Irritability came back!
As part of maintenance therapy I was given a steroid. According to my chart, the steroid given to me via IV was dexamethasone sodium phosphate, also known as Hexadrol Phosphate. This was also the steroid used during my chemo infusions. The only difference between maintenance and chemo is that I no longer have to take the prednisone steroid. But just like during chemo I experience some extreme irritability for a couple of days.
Previously I blogged about the rage experienced while on prednisone. I was much less full of rage this time, but there was still a definite irritability. For a couple of days I seemed to get annoyed and almost angry every time the boys fought. As a parent I know the boys will fight for no reason at all. Yet on one of those days I had a large confrontation with my youngest son that left me apologizing to him for a couple of days. Hopefully the kids understand I was not quite myself on those days.
Since my last round of chemo, I have experienced the chills occasionally when going to bed. I hadn’t really thought too much of this due to the fact it is very cold outside and it didn’t last very long. On a typical night prior to maintenance I would experience the chills for about five to ten minutes. After maintenance therapy, I now experience the chills for about forty-five to sixty minutes per evening. The chills always seem to come when I am going to bed. Nothing I do seem to get rid of them.
I’ve spoken with other lymphoma patients that have experienced the chills after chemo is completed. There doesn’t seem to be a unifying reason as to why some of us experience the chills. One common reason given is that chemo causes early menopause. Since I am not a woman I don’t really think that applies to me. Part of me wonders if it is not due to the rituximab. Rituximab is the common drug I used both during chemo and during maintenance therapy. And the chills is a common side-effect of the drug. I’m hoping as time goes on this particular side-effect will either go away or at least get reduced.
Not a lot of side-effects
I don’t seem to have a lot of side-effects from maintenance therapy. The main side-effects I have is lack of sleep, irritability, and the chills. Overall I can live with these side-effects if it means maintenance therapy can keep my lymphoma at bay longer. Plus I hope that as maintenance therapy goes on my body will just adjust better and the side-effects will reduce each time.
Today’s song: I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
Today’s song comes from Warren Zevon. This track is called I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Since getting lymphoma my wife doesn’t like me to use the phrase I’ll sleep when I’m dead, but I actually have used it many times over the years. The song has some obvious references to living life to its fullest. But at the same time there are references to being stretched a little thin. So much to relate to in this song, especially when experiencing sleep issues!
Bonus song: Poor Poor Pitiful Me
Actually, this song isn’t about me at all. My constant companion throughout chemo and maintenance is Lucy. She is a nine-year-old Yorkie and is always at my side! Of course, just like any other dog she thinks her life is so rough, and I often sing this Warren Zevon song to her.