Good infusion Friday

I am now a known entity at infusion on Fridays. I spend about 1 and 1/2 hours each week here which isn't terrible. My blood is drawn and tested, to see if my chemistry is holding up.  I'm the Petri dish in the corner usually, and more often than not this is where I read those articles in the NY Times that I didn't finish with coffee at home.

I like infusion because the nurses run this joint with friendly efficiency. This is the place where I t to normally communicate with the doctor, nurses being better translators of my needs than I am with an ipad. The stepped system works well with my tendency to forget what I meant to ask for the previous week, and it frees my every six week check in with Dr. Dayton from being a round of basic, if  expensive, clerical chemistry.

As this is Good Friday, Charles didn't tag along. I'm Charlie McCarthy today without Edgar Bergen. There's no one around to joke with about the odd Muzak that is played in the building. Right now a reworked Michael Jackson tune is sawing out the beat. The room is almost empty; early infusion is often quiet like this. Under normal circumstances I'm pretty alert but this morning I slept past my normal pop up time in the 5am range. I could use a bit more coffee and while it's available here, it's not freshly ground and not a bit exotic. I may have cancer but I can still occasionally be a snob; folger's?  No thanks--estate Guatemalan is what's rockin' at home this week.

Infusion for me is mostly not chemo in the usual sense--I get two drugs, preceded by a small bag of liquid Benadryl. This is all fed through an IV for me--I don't have and don't really want a permanent port; I maintain hopes that I can improve to the point where weekly yields to bi-weekly to irregular before it hits never.  Erbitux, the main ingredient for me, is an epidermal growth factor inhibitor.  It's famous for causing skin rashes--and in my case, itchy back and underarms. It has been a miracle for me, something that seems to keep a progress moving and prevents a systemic collapse into wild growth. It is supplemented at the end of an hour's drip by a small tube of methotrexate, with the unfortunate color of urine from a victim of dehydration or overworked kidneys. That's no complaint-- from the moment of its introduction into my process, I've made strides that are quicker and surer.

This is how Friday has started for me lately, Good or not, it is reliably good. As I sit here and look out upon a room of taupe recliners, questionable Muzak, bad lighting, I feel pretty much at home, my version of Cheers, where everybody does know my name.  For today my insurance company will be billed around $6,300.00.  Do you have any idea how much I  feel gratitude for having that policy? I grouse about the monthly cost of my COBRA from work, but a year's worth of  monthly premiums is still a bit less than the cost of one and one half of these sessions. I know there's a fashion for hating the ACA but those demonizers obviously aren't reading the types of benefit explanations that I get regularly in the mail. Without insurance, society would hardly be willing to bear this cost for me and we both know it. Yet another good this Friday.

I'd love to nap right now but the erbitux is nearly gone, the methotrexate will only take a couple of minutes, and I'll be sent upon my way for another week. Pushed out today in temperatures near 70, with all the flowering trees taking a toll on my system, allergy season in full swing. It's Spring and the spring in my step will be my way of saying thanks, so long and thanks for all the drugs! And I will, under the blue sky that pierces bad attitudes, truly mean it.