Back home after Day 1 of treatment. I'm posting all this on the blog now in case I start to fade.

Not long after the infusion started, they had to give me a pretty heavy dose of Benadryl when I started having a reaction to the Isatuximab. My throat started to constrict and I was getting very congested and teary-eyed. From past experience, Benadryl pretty much knocks me out. Because the first dose didn’t stop the reaction, they added a second dose of Benadryl. The nurse said she rarely had patients who had that much Benadryl and didn't become totally comatose. But, I was in a fairly groggy fog for a lot of the time I was there. They also slowed down the drip which meant that I was infused for a little over 6 hours. Ugh. It seems I’m one of the less than 10% that have a reaction to Isatuximab. The nurses said, “This just shows that you're unique.” Hmmm... some consolation. Unfortunately, what this means is that at next Monday’s weekly infusion I have to do the same slow drip instead of the shorter infusion of less than 2 hours which is what I was counting on. For the rest of this week until next Monday's infusion, I take daily doses of chemo.

I had many heartwarming chats with several Oakland oncology nurses who remembered Tim and I very well from four years ago. I guess there aren’t too many gay couples who are undergoing chemo treatments at the same time.

I’m tired and hoping I won’t have too many additional side-effects from any of the three drugs I’m on now besides the most common: fatigue. The other common and less serious side-effects are nausea, diarrhea, brain-fog and rashes. The list of less common side-effects read like one of those tv drug commercials. The docs and the nurses reiterated that I’m very vulnerable to infection at this point, so I plan to lay low for the next week and become fairly reclusive. I think mytwo and a half year COVID precautions fit right into this scheme. For the time being, no visitors, shopping or other outings. Maybe just getting out in the garden if I’m feeling up to it.

For now, adios, and thanks for all the expressions of support and concern.

This is a photo I took of Tim in Point Reyes National Seashore, but it seems appropriate for this occasion.