My clinical trial with MLNo128 finally ended on December 23
with the scans showing disease progression. It was one of those drugs that was
too toxic for me at the full dose but not effective enough at a reduced dose. I
still have residual side effects even though I have been off the drug for over two
months. My nails are still dry and brittle, my tummy trouble is not fully
resolved and I itch all over, all night. My back looks like I have a serious
case of the kinkies the way I have scratched myself. However, I had a good run
in the world of clinical trials and metastases. I was on the drug for 32 weeks
before progression and I still exercised for two hours a day, ate my vegan
diet, slept as poorly as usual, did chores, watched movies, worked full time, learned
something new every day (I am addicted to MOOCs) and was a mother and wife and
friend.
I spent a few days in Florida at Islands of Adventure and
Universal in Orlando and staying with dear friends on the beach. I went for
long walks and ate great food and put my illness in a little box in the back of
my mind for a little while.
The problem with clinical trials is there is no wiggle room.
A scan scheduled just before holidays means exactly that. There is no
postponing to a less-stressful week later and this scan day was a day that one
wishes did not exist. Although I hadn’t had any pain, I had some feeling
of things weren’t quite normal. Normal of course is a moving target when you
have cancer and half of you hopes that this is just a different normal, but the
sensible half of you knows that the results of the scan are not going to go
your way.
I had a complete
melt-down at the doctor but had pulled up my big girl pants by the time I got
home and cheerfully celebrated the holidays with my family, reserving tears and
fears for the loneliest small hours of the night. We ate good food and played
games and I took my usual thousands of photos while the washout period of four
weeks began. It’s very scary to be told that all treatment will stop for four
weeks before you can join the next clinical trial.
First stop was a liver biopsy. That was relatively painless
and I arranged to donate tissue for research at the same time. Then came the
blood work. They had to take so much blood that it had to be done on two different
days. The first visit was 12 tubes of blood and a few days later I went back
for another 16 tubes, an EKG and urinalysis. I was finally ready to have the
infusion.
I got to the infusion center on the appointed day, exactly
four weeks after my scan and the research coordinator caught me before I went
in. I could not start the trial because my white blood cell count was too low.
This has been an endless problem since I had my first round of chemo a decade
ago. I was devastated. Not only did it mean I missed the start of the trial but
now I had to have the scans repeated because I had missed the four week cut-off
since my last scans. So I duly went and had more scans and breathed through the associated anxiety.
As you can imagine, four weeks without treatment meant that my scans were not
pretty. However, I swallowed hard and prepared myself for the new trial.
First step was I had to get my WBC count up. I did the right
things and did what I was told. As insurance, I ran up 48 flights of stairs
before my blood was drawn for a WBC count. Ha. The count was higher than it has
been in a decade. Now it was way up and I could begin.
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