Chemo four

It was chemo day, the fourth one! This is either half way through or one third way through. Pet scan after chemo six hols the key to the question: 8 or 12! Chemo days are always bad, not so much because of side effects as they are not too bad. As I write these words an exhausted Ranjan sleeps by my side. Slightly nauseous but I think it is more the car drive and also the fact that he has to eat the rubbish served at the hospital. Now for someone who has been on an organic food diet for over two months, any chemical is quickly detected by his body and rejected. I had hoped to be back for lunch as we were on the hospital bed at 8 sharp so normal maths would say we should have been home well before 1pm. But that was not to be. We got home at 3.30! The reason: the total lack of efficiency of this super speciality hospital. As one who has managed events professionally, this made me see red.

Here is how it goes. We reach at 8 am and wait. At 8.20 or so a nurse comes in with a catheter. I am puzzled as Ranjan has a port and the last chemo was given through the port. In these days of technology why are records not kept on a computer? Anyway she is surprised and then turns to me and asks me for the tube. I am zapped as I do not know what she means by tube, and more than that why should I have it! Is it a rubber tube kind of thing as I saw one hanging from the port last time, or a tube of medicine. A mystery to all. She then mutters something and leaves. After another 30 minutes we go looking for her and discover that the tube in question is a tube of anaesthetic ointment. I offer to run down and purchase it from the pharmacy but she says that someone has already left. Needless to say that someone must have made many stops on the way as the tube finally appears at 10am. The chemo begins at 10.30 or so. Two hours and ten minutes for nothing. At about 1pm we finally see the end of the last drip and start agitating for our discharge as past experience has shown it is worse than a marathon and tests the limits of your patience. I check with the doctor on duty and she informs me that everything has been cleared by her and it is the nurse who will give us the papers.

When we ask the nurse she again mutters something unintelligible and says she is waiting from a clearance from upstairs. Now what does upstairs mean? God! It almost seemed so and even he would take pity on us. When I ask her how long it will take, I am told five minutes. When I ask again I an again told five minutes. The five minutes become an hour. And we still do not know what the problem is. Apparently the nurse has made a mistake on the file that had to be okayed by the lab or else we would have been charge double for the test. Quite frankly I would have rather paid double or even treble rather than wait for almost 1.30 hours. The price to pay was far higher.

Ranjan was in great spirits when we set off and we all hoped that this time we would beat the system and get home early and in a merry mood. But that was not to be. First the waiting for the tube, nothing short of an absurd play had a terrible side effect. Breakfast arrived and as there was nothing to do, Ranjan did what each of us do when bored: ate! There was some poor quality bread, a boiled egg, certainly not organic and some instant coffee. I knew it would have its reactions, but nevertheless hoped not. And anyway he would not have to have lunch there as we would be back home. He had even planned his menu!

Now of the 4 toxic brews that ABVD, D aka Dacarbazine, is the longest and the one that seems to be the nastiest. I wonder why they do not give it first so that any side effect could be dealt in the hospital. So the Dacarbazine drip that takes 90 minutes and then a 10 minute flush ends the chemo saga. Had we been able to leave soon Ranjan may still have come home in a better state. But the long wait when you are ready to go was enough to zap him and then the drive back in the heat and the fumes, in spite of the AC made him nauseous and feverish as well as listless. He sleeps fitfully, mumbling some incoherent words. And I watch helplessly and mad at a hospital that can never get its act togetherr! I would forgive an overworked Government hospital, but find it difficult to do so for a hospital that almost charges you for the air you breathe!