Steven started his latest “treatment” last Thursday and I’m really confused. If you’re crazy and you go to a shrink, it’s called psychotherapy. If you hurt yourself and go to rehab, its called physical therapy. And normally if you have cancer and go to an oncologist, it’s called chemotherapy. So let me reiterate: Steven started his treatment last Thursday.
The current course of treatment is Rituxan and I’m thrilled that this medication is available for Steven. He’s had it before, mixed in a recipe of other unpronounceable medical potions that they just call CHOPS for short. It worked like a charm and kept him on this side of the dirt, so I’m not doubting that Rituxan is a wonder drug. But for the record, when he had Rituxan with CHOPS…they called it chemotherapy.
I’m not saying the drug company is trying to pull a fast one, but If you go to the Rituxan website, the first thing you see is a photo of a happy-freakin’-happy guy grinning like he thinks he’s on the Viagra website! No ribbons, no sunrises, no modern medical center in the background. Just a guy standing around in his backyard with a shit-eating grin, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. What the hell? They say that if it walks like a duck and quacks like then it’s probably a duck. So with that as my mantra, I have to say that this treatment is probably chemotherapy. I’m not trying to be a drama queen here, but to call Rituxan “treatment” seems a little lame.
Wednesday night Steven pre-medicated as directed, with a sedative type horse pill thatmade him sleep so hard that he didn’t even flinch when Zoey and Maritza took their end of the day laps through the house and over the bed using his belly to trampoline over the foot board! (By the way, that’s how it was when he had chemo!) The morning of the “treatment” he took the second pill which had him zombied out within 30 minutes. I poured him into my car and brought him with me to work until it was time for his appointment. The doctor’s new office is only 5 minutes from my office, so Steven thought this was a good idea when he came up with it the day before. Of course when he was sedated and propped up in a chair like “Weekend at Bernie’s”, I think he would have rethought the decision…if he could have had a thought! (By the way, that’s how it was when he had chemo!)
Rituxan is administered by infusion. It’s started it with an appetizer of steroids and benedryl mixed in a saline I.V. gravy. That course is followed by the entree of Rituxan at a real slow drip, so you don’t have a reaction and burst into flames. (By the way, that’s how it was when he had chemo!) He gets it in the chemo room at the doctor’s office, and cancer patients come and go throughout the day, while he sits there for 5 hours getting his “treatment.” And, when I picked him up he was tired and achey and kind of glowing in the dark. (By the way, that’s how it was when he had chemo!)
Today is Monday. He’s still tired but not as achey. He got out and did some walking over the weekend, and puttered around the house. He’s been a little on the slow moving side, but not housebound or bedridden in any way. So all in all, I’d say this treatment is going to be OK. And maybe just this one time, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it Rituxan.