This is different

Something wierd and different happened yesterday. Pam didn't react to her first chemo treatment. I have to tell you, this is strange. I mean we were praying for this...many, many were praying for this. Why would I be surprised? Oh me of little faith. Psalm 5:3 In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. I am doing the praying, and I know God hears it, it's just my expectations... (Now I am going to finish this thought. I think I am so used to bad things happening that I pray for the bad to be less bad sometimes. I am sure I have been praying for her reactions to be less bad than the last time. I am thanking those of you who prayed for no reactions, because I don't think I was praying correctly).

Pam entered the cancer center yesterday for her first treatment a little stressed. OK, a lot stressed. During the administration of the three pre-chemo drugs, two people in the room had reactions to Avastin (the first drug planned for Pam). It is hard to not notice in this room (called Pod B) of 15 chairs. It is obvious as all the nurses converge on the struggling patient. Pam didn't even look. She just stared straight ahead out the window. Her thoughts were easy to guess...will that be me? The Avastin was set on a slow drip. All seemed fine. However, at one point I noticed some red spots on her neck. Before I could signal a nurse the hives covered her face as well. But a slowing of the drip and the addition of a bag of saline to dilute the drug stopped whatever was going on. Whew. But the drip was so slow now, this was looking like an even longer day than we expected.

Taxol was the second drug for Pam. Again, slow drips. Really slow. And when her throat started to close up (uh oh), the drip was slowed even more. This helped. Little by little the room was emptying. Pam's arrival time was 9:30AM. At this pace we were wondering if she would finish in the daylight. And then the young woman nearest Pam, also a breast cancer patient, had the reaction of reactions. Hard to witness, but there was nowhere to hide from these sights and sounds. During Pam's first trip through chemotherapy, we just didn't see people going into shock. This was the first treatment of twelve and there were three, argh.

By the time Pam's drips stopped dripping, she was the lone patient. The room had filled, emptied, refilled and emptied again during the day as Pam sat and took her medicine. Only one nurse and the cleaning crew watched her exit at 5PMish. But going slow seemed to really help her. I waited all night for a reaction. Sometime between midnight and 1AM I gave up and went to sleep. I talked to her at about 4:45AM and while her skin felt oddly hot, she said she felt fine. Same today. Prayers have been answered in the most desired way. Thanks for praying.

9:30pm, 2/3/09...maybe some reactions are beginning to show. The joint pain seems to be starting.