Chapter 18
Folfox was developed for use in Stage III colorectal cancer treatments. Although I was never considered a Stage III, that suspicious node would have me treated like one. Folfox is a combination of chemotherapy drugs including the extremely toxic Oxaliplatin (OXI). It is administered through the bloodstream where it remains for days destroying the dividing cancer cells before they can spread.
Anyways that is basically the gist of it.
Oxaliplatin was developed in 1976 and approved for medical use by the USFDA (United States Food and Drug Administration) in 2002. It is a relatively new platinum based cancer drug and has been instrumental in saving and prolonging literally thousands of lives.
It is a nasty drug with dozens of potential just as nasty side effects. If the chemo used during my pre-surgery was the demon chemo, then for sure Folfox would be the post-surgery Satan chemo. No patient breezes through Folfox treatments, with many regretting their decision or quitting treatments altogether.
Originally Folfox was given every two weeks for twelve cycles over a six month period. The side effects were so brutal, cycles needed to be slowly reduced. By the time it was my turn, Folfox was found to be equally as effective with just eight cycles over four months. All those guinea pigs who suffered immensely through their twelve cycle regimes also were paving the way for further research. Just like many today will suffer through eight cycles, new ongoing research is proving that six cycles over three months might be just as effective.
Who knows, but cancer research never ends. Maybe a day will come when chemo will become obsolete. I believe that day will eventually come and hopefully I will see it in my lifetime.
In the big picture all cancer patients are guinea pigs and we are all just a statistic. Who gets cancer? Why do we get cancer? Who lives or who dies? It all comes down to percentages and numbers. All you can do is just hope and pray you are in the percentage that eventually survives and beats cancer.
It is really all I can do now, hope and pray.
Oh, and step into the ring for an eight round fight with Satan.
The morning of March 26th, exactly one month since my big operation would find me back in the Imaging Dept. at RVH. I was having another PICC line installed, my second and hopefully my last. With the new line in I walked across the hallway to the Cancer Centre for my blood work.
Dr. N had given me a prescription for two different pills that I needed to take on a full stomach before each of the eight cycles. One was needed to prevent nausea and I forgot what the other one was for. I do remember they were little tiny pills and their names were very long. It seemed like every letter in the alphabet was printed on the label.
Who the fuck makes up drug names anyway?
I bet it's a guy who suffers from a severe case of small man syndrome.
Two days later my first Folfox cycle was administered. With each cycle I had to make sure I had eaten so I would stop at the McDonalds on Hwy 11 just north of the Cancer Centre. I would order either the Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder with cheese combo. I needed to take the two pills with long names while eating. It was also important that I was well hydrated when I arrived.
I also needed to continue to hydrate during the complete cycle.
A nurse would start an IV including OXI through a drip into my bloodstream. This would last for just over two hours. The IV bolus injection of folinic acid and at the same time an injection of Fluorouracil (5FU) through my PICC line into my bloodstream followed. Finally, the infusion of 5FU through the pump for 46 hours completed the cycle.
I would need to come back to the hospital on Sunday afternoon to have the bottle disconnected. This seemed and looked pretty easy, but I was not allowed to do it myself. A chemo disconnect has to be done by a nurse who was specifically trained in the handling and discarding of toxic chemo bottles. I was told that chemotherapy drugs are something you just don’t want to mess around with.
The chemo ward itself was a large bright open area on the top floor of the Cancer Centre. There were lots of massive glass windows that gave the ward a friendlier, warmer atmosphere. I am guessing there were anywhere between three to four dozen large reclining chairs. There were also a few beds and each station was equipped with pay as you go internet and television.
I always received my chemo on Friday afternoons starting around 2 pm and the ward was always at full capacity when I started my treatments. I was always one of the last few patients remaining when I would leave around 5 pm. The chemo ward does not operate on weekends.
For the most part, I would pass the two to three hours just resting. I'd be chatting with the nurses and snacking on Fruit Crème Peek Freans that the volunteers would hand out. I always grabbed an extra pack with a wink, smile and a big thank you. Massive onslaughts of fatigue during my treatments were a very common side effect of Folfox and it would get progressively worse with every cycle.
It was always very depressing for me to see some of the other patients during those eight Friday afternoons. All were adult patients, all ages from all generations and I never saw any children at the Cancer Centre getting treatment while I was there.
Many patients had lost all or most of their hair with some trying to master the comb over, while others wore bandanas or wigs. Those who were fit and athletic all looked like they had cancer beaten. Obese patients gobbling boxes of Timbits during their treatments always amazed me.
I could never understand just how unhealthy some people really can be and how they seemingly don’t even give a shit.
I knew looking at many of the elderly patients they were not going to make it. They would lose the war, but were still desperately battling right up to the end. We all had one thing in common up in the chemo ward. Although we were all fighting different cancers, we were all fighting with everything we had.
We were all just fighting to stay alive.
Anyways that is basically the gist of it.
Oxaliplatin was developed in 1976 and approved for medical use by the USFDA (United States Food and Drug Administration) in 2002. It is a relatively new platinum based cancer drug and has been instrumental in saving and prolonging literally thousands of lives.
It is a nasty drug with dozens of potential just as nasty side effects. If the chemo used during my pre-surgery was the demon chemo, then for sure Folfox would be the post-surgery Satan chemo. No patient breezes through Folfox treatments, with many regretting their decision or quitting treatments altogether.
Originally Folfox was given every two weeks for twelve cycles over a six month period. The side effects were so brutal, cycles needed to be slowly reduced. By the time it was my turn, Folfox was found to be equally as effective with just eight cycles over four months. All those guinea pigs who suffered immensely through their twelve cycle regimes also were paving the way for further research. Just like many today will suffer through eight cycles, new ongoing research is proving that six cycles over three months might be just as effective.
Who knows, but cancer research never ends. Maybe a day will come when chemo will become obsolete. I believe that day will eventually come and hopefully I will see it in my lifetime.
In the big picture all cancer patients are guinea pigs and we are all just a statistic. Who gets cancer? Why do we get cancer? Who lives or who dies? It all comes down to percentages and numbers. All you can do is just hope and pray you are in the percentage that eventually survives and beats cancer.
It is really all I can do now, hope and pray.
Oh, and step into the ring for an eight round fight with Satan.
The morning of March 26th, exactly one month since my big operation would find me back in the Imaging Dept. at RVH. I was having another PICC line installed, my second and hopefully my last. With the new line in I walked across the hallway to the Cancer Centre for my blood work.
Dr. N had given me a prescription for two different pills that I needed to take on a full stomach before each of the eight cycles. One was needed to prevent nausea and I forgot what the other one was for. I do remember they were little tiny pills and their names were very long. It seemed like every letter in the alphabet was printed on the label.
Who the fuck makes up drug names anyway?
I bet it's a guy who suffers from a severe case of small man syndrome.
Two days later my first Folfox cycle was administered. With each cycle I had to make sure I had eaten so I would stop at the McDonalds on Hwy 11 just north of the Cancer Centre. I would order either the Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder with cheese combo. I needed to take the two pills with long names while eating. It was also important that I was well hydrated when I arrived.
I also needed to continue to hydrate during the complete cycle.
A nurse would start an IV including OXI through a drip into my bloodstream. This would last for just over two hours. The IV bolus injection of folinic acid and at the same time an injection of Fluorouracil (5FU) through my PICC line into my bloodstream followed. Finally, the infusion of 5FU through the pump for 46 hours completed the cycle.
I would need to come back to the hospital on Sunday afternoon to have the bottle disconnected. This seemed and looked pretty easy, but I was not allowed to do it myself. A chemo disconnect has to be done by a nurse who was specifically trained in the handling and discarding of toxic chemo bottles. I was told that chemotherapy drugs are something you just don’t want to mess around with.
The chemo ward itself was a large bright open area on the top floor of the Cancer Centre. There were lots of massive glass windows that gave the ward a friendlier, warmer atmosphere. I am guessing there were anywhere between three to four dozen large reclining chairs. There were also a few beds and each station was equipped with pay as you go internet and television.
I always received my chemo on Friday afternoons starting around 2 pm and the ward was always at full capacity when I started my treatments. I was always one of the last few patients remaining when I would leave around 5 pm. The chemo ward does not operate on weekends.
For the most part, I would pass the two to three hours just resting. I'd be chatting with the nurses and snacking on Fruit Crème Peek Freans that the volunteers would hand out. I always grabbed an extra pack with a wink, smile and a big thank you. Massive onslaughts of fatigue during my treatments were a very common side effect of Folfox and it would get progressively worse with every cycle.
It was always very depressing for me to see some of the other patients during those eight Friday afternoons. All were adult patients, all ages from all generations and I never saw any children at the Cancer Centre getting treatment while I was there.
Many patients had lost all or most of their hair with some trying to master the comb over, while others wore bandanas or wigs. Those who were fit and athletic all looked like they had cancer beaten. Obese patients gobbling boxes of Timbits during their treatments always amazed me.
I could never understand just how unhealthy some people really can be and how they seemingly don’t even give a shit.
I knew looking at many of the elderly patients they were not going to make it. They would lose the war, but were still desperately battling right up to the end. We all had one thing in common up in the chemo ward. Although we were all fighting different cancers, we were all fighting with everything we had.
We were all just fighting to stay alive.