Immunotherapy: Session 5 of 6 (We Hope)

6:45 a.m.

In about a half-hour Joyce and I will head once again down to the Akron Red Cross to re-commence the procedure to withdraw my T-cells, which the Red Cross will then send a-winging  to Atlanta for a mid-week booster party (they will add the drug Provenge to help my T-cells wage a better war against this cancer that has been patiently gnawing away at me since December 2004 when I got the biopsy results).

On Friday morning we will go down to Seidman Cancer Center in University Circle to have those pumped-up T-cells returned to me. This morning's session will take only about two hours or so (thanks to the nettlesome catheter I now carry around, the one that features a tube that leads into my heart!); the blood return should take only about an hour.

Today's session takes longer because, like a very thirsty vampire, this machine withdraws all my blood during the process. (Unlike a very thirsty vampire, the machine then returns it to me, sans T-cells).

All of this, of course, is if All Goes Well--never a sure bet.

I will write later about how it all went ...


3:30 p.m.

It went pretty smoothly this morning--we got home, oh, about 11:15. The only little moment of worry was when, early in the process, the machine kept beeping, indicating that the flow in was not sufficient. So ... the nurse switched my lines: in became out; out became in. And all bubbled merrily along until I heard that final chirp and knew that this part of it all was over!

It's interesting how chilled I get while this is going on. I mean, it's not really surprising; Blood is flowing out of me; blood is warm; etc. But they pile heated blankets on me as well as a large heating pad about the size of a large pillowcase. Still, they have to replace the blankets about every forty-five minutes, the chattering of my teeth apparently an annoyance.

Joyce drove us back home to Hudson while I munched on a little bag of pretzels and a couple of granola bars (courtesy of the Red Cross). We got back about the time we ordinarily eat lunch, so eat lunch we did, and my stomach found no difficulty finding room in and among the ruins of pretzels and granola bars.

Afterward, I actually walked over to the coffee shop--read the local newspapers online, read some of Fools and Mortals, Bernard Cornwell's new novel about Richard Shakespeare (the Bard's brother, who also went to London and was an actor). Enjoying it. Getting some sly "in-jokes"--e.g., one character is an old priest named Brother Laurence .... remember Romeo & Juliet?

I did some other fussy work, chatted with my friend Chris (who was as surprised to see me as I was to be there).

Headed home. NAP! As I told Chris the other day, the only joy of this seemingly endless cycle of treatments is that I don't go to the health club in the afternoon to work out: The heart catheter can't get wet, etc. Awwww ... I so much miss the exercise bike! (And I'm sure it misses me!)

And so--if all goes well (never a certainty)--all of this will be over by Friday noon. Cross fingers.

today