Doing Very Bad Things

Dr. G is talking about doing very bad things to me, and not the bad things I like to have done to me. 

My last three doses of chemo have sent me to the hospital within 6 hours, feverish, tachycardic, vomiting and losing consciousness, talking jibberish.

Instead of facing this boogeyman straight on in our conversation, we started talking about my lung issues. 

I've been wheezing and short of breath. I saw an add for spiriva, an inhaler that treats COPD (emphesema, chronic bronchitis, bronchiolitis obliterans) without steroids and called thinking it was worth looking into. Instead of experimenting, we stuck to the tried and true way, I am staying on my prednisone. 

I won't be tapering it until my wheezing eases, but I won't be increasing it either. I'll use my albuterol rescue inhaler and duonebs for relief. 

Don't worry though, if you thought I may finally escape from the claws of metabolic steroids, you were wrong. Our conversation did turn where I hoped it would: to the plan for my next round of chemo on mon. June 6th.

 Dr. G suspects what I experience with my infusion is a severe allergic reaction. He wants to use the strongest premedication schedule in existence, the regimen used for taxol. I'll take decadron 8 hrs before, 4 hours before and immediately before my infusion along with tylenol, fluids, and benadryl then the benadryl will be continued every 4 hrs afterwards.

 He says I do not have to be admitted for this treatment. 

I say I want to be admitted for this.

Who is going to make sure I safely medicate myself? 

My parents are horrified. I don't remember the ER visits, but my parents certainly do. I hear it has taken 4 hrs to get antibiotics on one occasion and 4 hrs to get fluids on another. 

My mom will be calling my doctor. If he still denies us, we'll be staying at the marriot accross the street. Does anyone have $150 for the night? Maybe we'll just bring a big car. Thank goodness the seats are out of the back of the van.