The metro area is still recovering from the recent storm, nicknamed Snowzilla. It was the most snow we've received in a single storm in the 30+ years we've lived in the DC area. The regional governments have not spent their tax dollars buying snow removal equipment to handle such freak storms, and rightfully so, since 99.9% of the time it would be sitting unused. But the .1% of the time when the equipment is needed, it means that the digout takes much longer. Our nearby streets did not see plows until 4 days after the first snowflakes fell. Patience helps.
A week after the storm started, the roads are not fully cleared. The shoulders and right lanes of multi-lane streets have snow banks. Traffic is congested by the reduced number of lanes. My drive up to Hopkins took turned into a crawl on the Baltimore streets, taking nearly an extra hour.
The Weinberg Cancer Center at Hopkins was filled to capacity, since so many patients were unable to come in during the storm. I was expecting delays, so I read the newspaper and The Nightengale while waiting for my port access, lab work and appointment with Dr. Hahn. I first met with one of his fellows. Referring to the cold that I received from the Social Security office on January 8, I asked whether the fact that it took nearly three weeks for the chest congestion to resolve was related to the nivolumab. The fellow acknowledged that Opdivo had an increased risk on pneumonitis, but was not aware of evidence that the drug slowed the recovery from regular viral infections. Fortunately, the congestion had cleared in the past couple of days.
Dr. Hahn eventually entered, apologizing for his delay. He had been on a conference call seeking preauthorization for another patient to commence immunotherapy. Insurance companies are only slowly agreeing to pay for drugs like Opdivo, especially if it for an off-label use. Dr. Hahn finished examining me, then sent me on my way to get my infusion.
Because the lab was taking its time compounding my drug, I got lunch at the Hopkins cafeteria. The lines were snaking out the door. Listening to three medical students and a resident talk in front of me, I realized it was because no one had been able to go grocery shopping for a week, so all the employees were buying food at the cafeteria. The entree at the steam tables was mystery meat covered in brown gravy (shades of Margaret Atwood's Maddaddam?) so I went to Subway.
When I was called in for my infusion, my nurse could not get a blood return from my port. Nothing seemed to work -- turning my head, coughing, raising my arms, standing up, twisting, etc. It must have looked strange as I was standing in front of a short nurse, twisting my torso and raising my arms up and down as she was clutching at a syringe hooked to a tube coming out of my chest, jerking the plunger back and forth trying to open up my port like a clogged toilet. When my port was accessed that morning, it readily gave a blood return for my labs. Eventually, my nurse summoned her supervisor, who had me fully recline and immediately got a return. She joked that it was her Transylvannian heritage that let her get blood so easily.
The infusion was routine: 3 mg/kg of nivolumab, courtesy of Bristol-Myers Squibb, pumped into my body in 60 minutes. I'm so glad I can continue to get this drug, and so glad it doesn't have side effects like chemotherapy. I heard my nurse talking with the patient next to me, who was there for his first chemotherapy. As she explained all of the possible side effects, I thought "hang in there, buddy." Been there, done that, lost the hair. Hope it works.
Thank you for sharing your experiences!
ReplyDelete