Thursday, February 16, 2012
Recovery
Dr Wadge has given me a week "off" before I start the next chemo cycle. She believes all of the problems I've had over the last few weeks were chemo-related and not caused by a flu or other virus. Suspects that I was still feeling the effects of what ailed me in Japan when I started cycle 1 of the chemo, and that might have made any side effects worse than they might normally be. So she is eager to see what happens if I have a second week without drugs before starting cycle 2. If I have a similar experience to the last couple of weeks, she will reduce the dosage to see if that helps. If it doesn't, alternative treatment will be considered. I'm very comfortable with this approach, especially as it buys me a few more days of feeling okay. I still tire quite easily, but at least the lightheadedness has gone. Fingers crossed life continues to be so good after I start cycle 2 on Tuesday.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sick and Tired
Left a message for Sarah Wadge (the internist overseeing my chemo) today
telling her that I wanted to stop the current meds due to the
overwhelming fatigue, continuous lightheadedness, loss of appetite, etc.
As you know, I've been afraid to drive let alone leave my house for
fear that I'll pass out somewhere or have a massive bowel-related
incident (which seems to occur after I eat anything).
Sarah left a message asking me to keep my next chemo appt (which is this coming Tues). Said she is sorry I'm having such a hard time on these drugs, but assured me she and my oncologist will find something more tolerable.
Will keep you posted re what happens next. Personally, I'm inclined to continue without meds until symptoms return. But we'll see.
Sarah left a message asking me to keep my next chemo appt (which is this coming Tues). Said she is sorry I'm having such a hard time on these drugs, but assured me she and my oncologist will find something more tolerable.
Will keep you posted re what happens next. Personally, I'm inclined to continue without meds until symptoms return. But we'll see.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Personal experience with a foreign medical system
In an effort to reduce the length of my travel reports, I thought it best to post a few tidbits separate from the main picture-laden piece. Given my current health issues, it seems the most logical place to start would be a description of my visit to a Kyoto hospital. To clarify: this was not a planned visit. Comparing various foreign medical systems is not in any way part of my bucket list.
Please pay close attention to the details of this story. There will be a quiz afterwards. Seriously.
Can you guess how much this little adventure cost me?
Here's what happened:
I have no idea how it all started. I awoke one morning to find my right eye somewhat reddened and aching. Thought Yoriko had enough of my snoring so lashed out during the night, or tossed the tennis ball at me (she uses it to massage her back before going to sleep). As the day progressed, however, the redness intensified as did the dull ache.
At about this same time, my bladder started acting up. I've had bladder infections before, but this manifested in an entirely different way. There was no feeling of urgency nor burning while voiding. Rather, no sooner would my brain register "need bathroom" than urine would begin to flow. A lot. Thank goodness for paper panties.
I reasoned that neither of these ailments was, in itself, particularly serious. And since there were only two days left before the return flight home, figured I could tough things out rather than spend my life savings and the remainder of my days in a foreign hospital. Of course, Yoriko (aka Mommy-san) had other thoughts. For example, the redness in my eye was bad enough she feared I wouldn't be allowed to fly. So I sheepishly yet obediently followed her down the street to the nearest hospital to be checked out.
The setup at the hospital was not unlike the afternoon routine at my local doctor's office. Most of the time it functions as a regular hospital/specialist office, but during the afternoon it takes on the role of walk-in clinic. It was hardly surprising, therefore, that some 30+ people were in the waiting area when we arrived.
Yoriko and I approached the main counter where she spoke at length in Japanese to a woman before filling out some forms. We were told to take a seat and wait, but my name was called before my ample buttocks had completely settled into the chair. We were directed to the second floor. As soon as we stepped off the elevator, I was handed a bottle for a urine specimen and shown to a nearby washroom. A small opening in the wall outside said washroom was the drop-off point for the bottle. A hand reached out to grab it before I could put it in the tray. Yoriko was standing by to direct me to the next waiting area. Once again, the seat didn't get warm before my name was called.
We now found ourselves in the office of an opthamologist. After a cursory look at my rapidly reddening eyeball, the doctor asked me (via Yoriko, of course) what I had done to cause such an injury. Since neither Yoriko nor I could think of anything that had hit my eye or otherwise cause it trauma, it was concluded that I likely touched something that was infected by someone else - perhaps a handrail - and then rubbed my eye. He became especially concerned when he noted my general medical history, which Yoriko was relaying as required. I was then put through a battery of tests similar to those given during a routine eye exam. This did not make my eye feel better. The ache turned to a momentary pain when the good doctor felt it necessary to take a swab of the syrupy ooze that was encasing the red orb. I was told he needed to rule out conjunctivitis as a positive reading would prevent me from flying (due to the contagious nature of that ailment). I should note that during all of these tests, especially when the doctor took the swab sample, a very nice nurse was rubbing my back and stroking my hair and making comforting cooing sounds to reassure me all would be well. And she was right! The test came back negative. The good doctor then administered some eye drops - which had an instant soothing effect, and sent us on our way.
As we walked out the door, Yoriko was handed several pieces of paper. No doubt the doctor and nurses doubted I was responsible enough to hold them myself.
Suspect the sight of me sitting there might have scared off some other potential patients because, once again, the seat didn't get warm before we were ushered into another office. This time, I saw a urologist who spoke some halting English.
The results of the urinalysis had come back and the doctor informed me that I had a "very serious" bladder infection. This I knew. He also told me my kidney function was greatly reduced. I knew this as well as it was one of the side effects from my last chemo drugs. He expressed great concern about my condition, and insisted that I consult my own physician immediately upon my return to Canada. I promised to follow his advice. Yoriko told him she would make sure I followed his advice. The doctor handed Yoriko a prescription and told me to make sure that I took all the pills. He told Yoriko the same thing. Apparently, he was also suspicious of my ability to take proper care of myself. Admittedly, at that moment in time Mommy-san was by far the more responsible of the two of us. And so it was that, more paperwork in hand, Yoriko and I finally returned to the first floor of the hospital and the original counter where she had first stated my need to see someone about my eye and bladder problems.
Turned out that this counter wasn't only the admissions/intake point but also the cashier's desk. Before we could do anything else, we had to pay. Any ideas yet re how much this joyous experience cost me?
After we paid, Yoriko was handed two slips of paper with numbers in the top corner. These were the prescriptions. We sat down in the original seating area across from the original counter. Turns out the adjacent counter was the pharmacy and a large screen above the counter indicated which prescriptions were currently being filled. The sign informed us we had about 40 min to wait for my 'scripts. About 15 min later, however, my numbers were called. I already had the eye drops, so was handed the pills for the bladder infection. And that was it. We left the building.
To recap: We were no more than one hour in the building. During that time, both my eye and bladder were tested. I saw two specialists who each prescribed medication. The cost of the medication was included in the total bill that had to be paid then and there before we were allowed to leave the hospital.
How much did I have to pay?
The total bill, including tests and medication amounted to approximately $150 Cdn. Total. Everything. It wasn't enough to put in a claim on my travel medical insurance. On top of that, both conditions were greatly improved after the first dose of either medication, and well on the mend by that evening.
As a side note, I did not queue jump. Foreigners wait the same as locals. The others who were waiting when we arrived were either waiting for pre-scheduled specialist appointments or were waiting for their prescriptions. I have no idea how things would have played out if there were other walk-ins with similar issues.
I wonder if BC Health Minister Michael de Jong or the NDP health critic Mike Farnworth would learn anything from this story?
Please pay close attention to the details of this story. There will be a quiz afterwards. Seriously.
Can you guess how much this little adventure cost me?
Here's what happened:
I have no idea how it all started. I awoke one morning to find my right eye somewhat reddened and aching. Thought Yoriko had enough of my snoring so lashed out during the night, or tossed the tennis ball at me (she uses it to massage her back before going to sleep). As the day progressed, however, the redness intensified as did the dull ache.
At about this same time, my bladder started acting up. I've had bladder infections before, but this manifested in an entirely different way. There was no feeling of urgency nor burning while voiding. Rather, no sooner would my brain register "need bathroom" than urine would begin to flow. A lot. Thank goodness for paper panties.
I reasoned that neither of these ailments was, in itself, particularly serious. And since there were only two days left before the return flight home, figured I could tough things out rather than spend my life savings and the remainder of my days in a foreign hospital. Of course, Yoriko (aka Mommy-san) had other thoughts. For example, the redness in my eye was bad enough she feared I wouldn't be allowed to fly. So I sheepishly yet obediently followed her down the street to the nearest hospital to be checked out.
The setup at the hospital was not unlike the afternoon routine at my local doctor's office. Most of the time it functions as a regular hospital/specialist office, but during the afternoon it takes on the role of walk-in clinic. It was hardly surprising, therefore, that some 30+ people were in the waiting area when we arrived.
Yoriko and I approached the main counter where she spoke at length in Japanese to a woman before filling out some forms. We were told to take a seat and wait, but my name was called before my ample buttocks had completely settled into the chair. We were directed to the second floor. As soon as we stepped off the elevator, I was handed a bottle for a urine specimen and shown to a nearby washroom. A small opening in the wall outside said washroom was the drop-off point for the bottle. A hand reached out to grab it before I could put it in the tray. Yoriko was standing by to direct me to the next waiting area. Once again, the seat didn't get warm before my name was called.
We now found ourselves in the office of an opthamologist. After a cursory look at my rapidly reddening eyeball, the doctor asked me (via Yoriko, of course) what I had done to cause such an injury. Since neither Yoriko nor I could think of anything that had hit my eye or otherwise cause it trauma, it was concluded that I likely touched something that was infected by someone else - perhaps a handrail - and then rubbed my eye. He became especially concerned when he noted my general medical history, which Yoriko was relaying as required. I was then put through a battery of tests similar to those given during a routine eye exam. This did not make my eye feel better. The ache turned to a momentary pain when the good doctor felt it necessary to take a swab of the syrupy ooze that was encasing the red orb. I was told he needed to rule out conjunctivitis as a positive reading would prevent me from flying (due to the contagious nature of that ailment). I should note that during all of these tests, especially when the doctor took the swab sample, a very nice nurse was rubbing my back and stroking my hair and making comforting cooing sounds to reassure me all would be well. And she was right! The test came back negative. The good doctor then administered some eye drops - which had an instant soothing effect, and sent us on our way.
As we walked out the door, Yoriko was handed several pieces of paper. No doubt the doctor and nurses doubted I was responsible enough to hold them myself.
The results of the urinalysis had come back and the doctor informed me that I had a "very serious" bladder infection. This I knew. He also told me my kidney function was greatly reduced. I knew this as well as it was one of the side effects from my last chemo drugs. He expressed great concern about my condition, and insisted that I consult my own physician immediately upon my return to Canada. I promised to follow his advice. Yoriko told him she would make sure I followed his advice. The doctor handed Yoriko a prescription and told me to make sure that I took all the pills. He told Yoriko the same thing. Apparently, he was also suspicious of my ability to take proper care of myself. Admittedly, at that moment in time Mommy-san was by far the more responsible of the two of us. And so it was that, more paperwork in hand, Yoriko and I finally returned to the first floor of the hospital and the original counter where she had first stated my need to see someone about my eye and bladder problems.
Turned out that this counter wasn't only the admissions/intake point but also the cashier's desk. Before we could do anything else, we had to pay. Any ideas yet re how much this joyous experience cost me?
After we paid, Yoriko was handed two slips of paper with numbers in the top corner. These were the prescriptions. We sat down in the original seating area across from the original counter. Turns out the adjacent counter was the pharmacy and a large screen above the counter indicated which prescriptions were currently being filled. The sign informed us we had about 40 min to wait for my 'scripts. About 15 min later, however, my numbers were called. I already had the eye drops, so was handed the pills for the bladder infection. And that was it. We left the building.
To recap: We were no more than one hour in the building. During that time, both my eye and bladder were tested. I saw two specialists who each prescribed medication. The cost of the medication was included in the total bill that had to be paid then and there before we were allowed to leave the hospital.
How much did I have to pay?
The total bill, including tests and medication amounted to approximately $150 Cdn. Total. Everything. It wasn't enough to put in a claim on my travel medical insurance. On top of that, both conditions were greatly improved after the first dose of either medication, and well on the mend by that evening.
As a side note, I did not queue jump. Foreigners wait the same as locals. The others who were waiting when we arrived were either waiting for pre-scheduled specialist appointments or were waiting for their prescriptions. I have no idea how things would have played out if there were other walk-ins with similar issues.
I wonder if BC Health Minister Michael de Jong or the NDP health critic Mike Farnworth would learn anything from this story?
Two steps back
Am
not sure these latest drugs are my friends. Felt well enough Monday
to attend the monthly guild meeting, but had to hit the sheets by 5pm to
recover. And then yesterday morning, while I was discussing Mom's care with
Verline, I was suddenly so lightheaded I thought I would pass out. A few
more hours of sleep and that, too, passed. I remain somewhat shaky. Am
trying to eat sensibly, but have little appetite. Suspect this is
contributing to the lightheaded feeling, but any attempt to eat more or
more substantial meals results in nausea. Note to self: when will I
learn to be careful what I wish for? Have managed to lose 15 lbs since
Christmas, but don't recommend my methodology.
Plan to discuss all these matters with Sarah Wadge when I report to St Mary's next week for chemo. Unless I can be told, soon, a compelling reason to stay on these drugs, I am inclined to stop treatment as the cure does seem to be doing my quality of life little good. Of course, that view might change tomorrow.
Notice that all the listed common side effects for Gemcitabine pretty much describe what has been ailing me these past weeks - flu-like symptoms incl chills, loss of appetite, fatigue, nausea ... Sigh.
Plan to discuss all these matters with Sarah Wadge when I report to St Mary's next week for chemo. Unless I can be told, soon, a compelling reason to stay on these drugs, I am inclined to stop treatment as the cure does seem to be doing my quality of life little good. Of course, that view might change tomorrow.
Notice that all the listed common side effects for Gemcitabine pretty much describe what has been ailing me these past weeks - flu-like symptoms incl chills, loss of appetite, fatigue, nausea ... Sigh.
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