I spoke with Jack’s oncology office yesterday and they let me know that his chemotherapy doses are being increased again.
Back when Jack got sick last August, the chemotherapy was stopped altogether until his immune system started to recover somewhat. Then he was restarted at less than half the dose he had been on previously. It has slooooowly been ramping up over the last eight months. He’s now on about 40% of the full dose of Methotrexate and 70ish% of Mercaptopurine.
Well, now he is apparently going from 40% and 70% all the way up to 100%. I was told that a recent test showed Jack’s thioguanine metabolites were low. I have no idea what that means, but apparently it’s indicative that he should be able to handle the chemotherapy increase (at least for the Mercaptopurine – I’m still waiting for additional answers on the Methotrexate).
I’m not so sure he can handle it, though. Jack’s health has been relatively stable over the last few months but with each dosage increase he’s needed an adjustment period even though the increases have been miniscule. But now the dose is basically doubling. For instance, he’s going from taking 4 chemotherapy pills on Monday nights to 8.5. (That’s just chemo – there are the three other medications he’s taking to manage side effects, putting the total number of pills on Monday nights to 13.)
His dose of sodium bicarbonate (which is supposed to help with the acidosis he’s had for months and months) was also increased this week. The acidosis seems to get worse in relation to the increases in chemo, and yet the oncologist says that this new increase in chemo “shouldn’t” result it the acidosis worsening. Considering that history has shown otherwise, I have no idea what to think about this response.
Anyway…I’m scared. I know partly I’m more emotional than usual because of the pregnancy, but also the multiple trips to the ER last year and the crazy amounts of antibiotics and the unexpected hospital stay are all things I absolutely don’t want to repeat. I know Jack doesn’t want to, either. I know this is likely the best way to keep the cancer away, but I also know it increases the risk of other scary problems like infection. Jack’s oncologist is either not good at explaining what the treatment adjustments mean or she’s lying, neither of which inspires confidence. We deal with frequent complaints of stomach pains, difficulty breathing, and other weirdness in Jack’s body, but right now it’s manageable. I’m not confident it will remain manageable after doubling the chemo.
“Try not to worry. Things are going well,” she said.
But I do worry. Even if things are going well right now, that doesn’t mean they will continue to…