Yesterday Dave and I met with the consultant, Dr Giri, and Chris the clinical trials nurse. It was a helpful meeting and Dr Giri answered all of the questions I had written on my list. I signed up for the trial, had a blood test and an ECG then wandered up to Rundle Street for lunch. We went to Cafe Michael 2 and I had green chicken curry. It was delicious, as I already knew it to be.
Lunch was very normal which is one of the strange things about all this - most things trundle on normally around me, but I have malignant lymph nodes inside me. But it makes me think about what secrets other people have as they go about their business in the street. Perhaps not even secrets necessarily, but just not things that you share with strangers when really what you'd like to do is yell it out so people stop being normal and acknowledge something's going on. "Don't you know my mum just died?" "I just found out I'm pregnant" "I failed my exam" "My husband left me". It would make for a noisy street and would test those empathetic amongst us.
Some time in the afternoon, Chris rang to tell us that the randomisation process for the trial determined that I will receive the BEACOPP treatment. This is the one that I had been told about back at the start, but now all the mess has all been cleared up. There are seven drugs in the cocktail, as I listed in a previous post. I need to go in to the RAH on days 1-3 & 8 of the treatment cycle to receive the drugs intravenously and there are pills to take at home on other days. The cycles will take 21 days and there will be 8 of them.
I am comfortable being part of a trial. I've done a few in my time although testing the results of different mouthwashes on plaque is a bit different to cancer treatment. Being part of the trial will mean that I get careful attention and I think I will see more of Dr Giri rather than his underlings which, at this point in time, suits me fine. Plus it'll just be interesting.
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my older bro has done a few trials where he gets paid. You should ask for payment too :P (slightly lame attempt at a joke :p)
ReplyDeleteI think the whole idea of pills sound much better (assuming the person takes them without fail at home)... I think large amount of the pain and angst that comes from the treatment is that often you feel crook as a dog and you're in a foreign place (and for rural people, a long way from home). Surely being at home will (hopefully) eleviate a lot of the stress of it all ...
do you start monday?
That second paragraph is the most poignant thing I have ever read. All of the Thorpes are praying for you.
ReplyDeleteDan.
yeah well i gave in and let google take over my life so i could follow your blog, feel special.
ReplyDeletethanks for writing it, saves me calling and actually talking to you. no really, it is really special to be able to get an insight into what you are going through, perhaps it is something easier to write than speak, no?
love you.
Lunch was very normal which is one of the strange things about all this - most things trundle on normally around me, but I have malignant lymph nodes inside me. But it makes me think about what secrets other people have as they go about their business in the street. Perhaps not even secrets necessarily, but just not things that you share with strangers when really what you'd like to do is yell it out so people stop being normal and acknowledge something's going on. "Don't you know my mum just died?" "I just found out I'm pregnant" "I failed my exam" "My husband left me". It would make for a noisy street and would test those empathetic amongst us.
ReplyDelete^^
that would be the most interesting thing ever and i think we would have less depressed people because they wouldnt bottle it up inside :)