CT scan

41 – So what’s this Immunotherapy all about?

23 December 2022

They say one shouldn’t spend too much time on the internet trying to find out about cancer treatments. And on the whole, I’d say that’s pretty good advice.

Unless you’re Wozzer that is!

Unfortunately, I have too much time on my hands these days, so checking stuff on the web is right up my street.

And when Dr Grant discussed my new immunotherapy treatment, with a drug named Nivolumab (brand name Opdivo), of course I had to check it out on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nivolumab

I’ll admit to not understanding most of what’s written, but one line certainly grabbed my attention:

‘It is made using Chinese hamster ovary cells’.  Blimey!   Really?

Of course, I’ll roll with it – if Dr Grant says it’s fine, that’s good enough for me.

Immunotherapy is completely different to the more well-known Chemotherapy. The key difference is in the way that they ‘target’ cancer cells.

Here’s my simple understanding:
Our bodies are comprised of literally billions of cells, that provide the complete structure of how we are and how we live eg, nerve cells, blood cells, muscle cells and more. They’re all working 24/7 and can repair themselves if things are going wrong (viruses etc). They can die and duplicate so that new cells replace the dead ones.

Sometimes though, in some people – cell structures can become damaged inside and they start to duplicate uncontrollably, growing as cancerous tumours.

And even worse, they can spread to other parts of the body and begin to grow and develop in or on other organs, known as ‘metastasis’.

And if those two statements are not bad enough, the ‘metastatic’ cancer cells can send signals to our body’s own immune system (antibodies) to stop trying to fight or ‘cure’ them. Which is what makes cancer so scary, because by this step – the cancer is usually incurable.

So, Chemotherapy attempts to reduce the uncontrollable cell-splitting duplications, but unfortunately can and does stop healthy cells from duplicating too. This is why there are generally such severe side-effects associated with this type of treatment.

Image credit: https://www.opdivo.com

Immunotherapy takes a more subtle and technical approach. It trains / stimulates (or boosts) our own immune system to ignore the ‘I’m friendly’ signals from cancer cells and to attack those cells in any case.

To date, I’ve just finished my 3rd infusion of Nivolumab and now have one just one treatment per month by IV. It takes around one hour to infuse.

So far so good. I’ve haven’t had any obvious side-effects and hopefully will have another CT scan in January, so that we can get some kind of indication as to whether it’s working, or not.

But I can’t seem to get the thought of the Chinese hamster out of my mind – and how much of it is now inside me!

Image credit: Milrajas https://gifer.com/en/user/368113

 

So if anyone sees me nibbling on cheese – or even worse running on a wheel – for goodness sake, please contact Cheltenham Oncology Centre on my behalf 😉

More from me in a month or so, but until then Wozzer wishes you all – wherever you are in the world, a very merry Xmas and a happy, prosperous and healthy New Year!

40 – Cancer Scan Anxiety and Scanxiety

10 November 2022

I’d touched on the scan and especially reporting delays in my last post. And it appears to becoming an issue countrywide. One cancer patient I’m in touch with, was still waiting for his scan report, almost 3 months after the scan – and almost in time for his next scan!

So, what on earth is going on?

The system seems to be that once a patient has a scan, the images are interpreted by a Radiologist who then writes a report and forwards said report to the specialist doctor. The doctor then considers the report and decides on the best treatment for the patient.

All good and the system worked pretty well, until what appears to be a backlog due to a combination of Covid delays and lack of trained personnel.

I did a bit of delving, but didn’t get very far with my local NHS Trust. Certainly not without making a ‘Freedom of Information’ request. And I don’t have the energy or inclination, for all of that.

But, talking to a doctor recently, it’s clear that scan reporting is likely to be an ongoing issue for the foreseeable future.

As he put it to me ‘They can keep producing scanning units every day, but it takes around 10 years to fully train a Radiologist to interpret scans professionally’.

In a way then, my 3.5 weeks wait for the results wasn’t a long time in the big scheme of things, but an eternity in terms of anxiety, not knowing how things are.

And unfortunately, it wasn’t the news I was hoping for. The 18 weeks of chemotherapy didn’t shrink any of the tumours, and in fact the largest (Tom) had increased in size by some 50% from 40mm to almost 60mm. Dr Grant was also very disappointed by the results.

If there are any positives to take from this, no further spread has been detected. Whether that’s due to the chemo or just natural, is impossible to tell right now, but suffice to say that because the first-line (chemo) treatment was unsuccessful, then some careful consideration had to be given to the next steps.

These ranged from pause treatment for a few months and then scan again; use a different type of chemo or start with a course of Immunotherapy. We discussed the options and agreed to run with the latter. So later this month, I’ll be back for bi-weekly infusions of a drug named Nivolumab.

I begin next week 16th November – with preliminary checks and tests and then my first infusion is scheduled for 21st November and then every 2 weeks after that. I guess quite a bit depends on how I react to the treatment.

Dr Grant tells me that I have to be aware of anything ending in ‘itis’ (inflammation) i.e. dermatitis, colitis, hepatitis etc. This is because the drug alters the body’s own immune system and while generally well tolerated, it can have quite unpredictable and serious effects

Anyway, I’m sure I’ll learn a lot more in the next few weeks – if nothing else I’ll have lots more material for my blog 😊

So, all being well, I’ll write an update after my second cycle in December. Until then, wherever in the world you are – take care x

39 -FU2 Chemo and Scanxiety

12 October 2022

Ooh, I didn’t realise how long it’s been since my last post back in August. They say time flies when you’re enjoying yourself…

Well, I wouldn’t quite call it ‘enjoying myself’, as I’ve been on Chemotherapy continuously for the past 10 weeks. In fairness it hasn’t been so bad for me – I’ve had few side-effects, but still got all my hair and appetite.

Of course, it’ll take much, much more to stop me eating than a few doses of chemo!

I’m absolutely convinced that the Beerotherapy has helped, if only that following high doses of beer, I seem to forget about what’s up with me.

I might have also forgotten to tell my GP about the beer. She spoke to me a couple of weeks ago and says I’m ‘defying science’ when considering my treatment regime. I think my body has defied science for many years really, but I’m taking this latest medical opinion wholeheartedly!

As I write this, I’ve just started my sixth cycle of chemo. Each cycle is 3 weeks and goes something like:
Week 1 (Mondays) - I get two infusions in hospital – Carboplatin and Fluoroucil 5FU along with anti-sickness medication and Dexamethasone steroid, which I also get tablets to take at home.
Week 2 – No new infusions or drugs, just feel the treatments working (feeling of fatigue and occasional sickness), along with forgetfulness which I blame on the chemo, but really I suppose it’s a function of age ☹
Week 3 – This is a so-called recovery week where my body regains its white blood cells and has increased immunity from infection.

At the end of Week 3, I’m back in hospital on the Friday for blood samples and the consultant checks that I’m fit and well enough to start the poisoning cycle again on the following Monday!

So, being in my sixth cycle of chemo, I think this is the last for now. The regimen calls for six cycles of 3 weeks (18 weeks total) and then evaluation of the treatment and its success (or not) of slowing the growth of existing tumours and any spread to further parts of the body.

Evaluation is done by taking CT scans, which I had at the end of September and then my consultant Dr Grant, decides on the next steps. This could be more of the same to follow-on, a break in chemo and then restart when my body recovers or a completely different treatment.

That was a simple enough paragraph to write, but the actuality is more complex and frustrating.

It seems that post-covid the NHS are under pressure to increase scanning for many patients, especially those with cancer (or initial scans to find out) – and this appears to be happening 7 days a week here. This is the good news.

The not so good news is that the next step in the chain is the ‘Radiologist Principal Interpreter’ (as they’re called here in Gloucestershire), to write a report detailing what the scans show. It is this report that goes to my consultant for him to decide on prognosis and treatment.

But now we’re in a position that the Radiologists are completely overwhelmed with the higher volume of scans to interpret, meaning there are lengthy delays in getting these to the consultant.

Which is where I’m at right now – with no report available after almost 3 weeks and not knowing how I’m doing, or what happens next.

Hoping to know more soon(ish) and write an update on this in a week or so.

Anyway – back to the chemotherapy.

I’ve had a few people (via my blog and social media) ask me for a bit more detail about the regimen I’m on. The how and why of this combination of Carboplatin and Fluorouracil 5FU is infused.

So here goes my understanding:

Normally the go-to chemotherapy for my type of primary and therefore secondary cancer, officially known as ‘head and neck squamous cell carcinoma’ is a long-standing treatment called Cisplatin. It’s a platinum-based drug and very toxic – especially to kidneys. And it was determined early on in the process that my kidneys might be damaged, to the point that I’d be worse off with renal failure than the cancer!

In fairness, my poor old kidneys have worked pretty dammed hard, filtering probably far too much alcohol over many sessions. Seemed great at the time though!

So, Cisplatin definitely isn’t for me. The alternative is two drugs, that when combined attack the cancer cells, but with lower risk to my kidneys. That’s not to say they’re milder – I understand that it’s more like 1+1=3, in that the combinations works better than either drug given in isolation.

Hoooked up and still smiling!

For the past so many Mondays, I’m in Prescott Ward at Cheltenham Oncology Centre. It’s a day patient ward for cancer treatment infusions, and we’re in chairs rather than beds. My time there is around 1.5 to 2 hours. The staff – as ever – are amazing and highly professional – even more so because of the Cytotoxic (toxic to cells) drugs they have to handle and dispense. And of course, helping patients with varying stages of cancer.

It starts with a hook-up of a quarter litre of saline, which goes into my PICC line via a pump. This is just to give me a bit more fluid.

Then I get a dose of steroid (Dexamethasone) through the line to help my body resist the immediate effect of the chemo – then finally the Carboplatin is added to my line. It takes exactly 30 minutes for the 570ml of Carboplatin to be administered. That equates to a dose rate of 1140ml per hour.

Following that, the second infusion is the Fluorouracil 5FU. This is highly concentrated and quite strong. So much so that it takes 96 hours to infuse 192ml of 5FU. This equates to a dose rate of just 2ml/hour.

Back in the day patients would be in hospital for 4 days (96 hours) to receive this continuous infusion. But nowadays I have a ‘Baxter Infusor Pump attached to me and my PICC line and it stays connected for the full 96 hours – day and night. I did touch on this in a previous post – but now I’ve detailed some more by request.

The Baxter Infusor elsotomeric pump, to give its full name is known as an  OPAT device. OPAT stands for Outpatient parenteral antimicrobial therapy, which simply means self-administration of complex drugs in the community (at home), under telephone helpline supervision.

Handle with great care, I reckon

The ‘pump’ itself is a work of genius. It doesn’t have any metal moving parts or electrics. Instead, it has a pressurised balloon filled with the 5FU chemo.

This is inside a sealed container and connected to a fine flexible pipe of around 90cm long, which attaches to my PICC line. By day I wear it in a pouch attached to my belt.

How the Baxter Infusor is plumbed to my PICC line
Daytime wearing of the Baxter Pump - attached to my belt and hidden under my clothing, so that hardly anything is visible.

At night, the pump is placed behind my pillow – but with only a short pipe (the pump that is), I have to be careful about how I move!

The ‘pump’ action is a combination of the pressurised balloon expelling the chemo through the fine tube and a flow regulator that is attached to the PICC line. Between them, they rely on body heat and I suppose a bit of capillary action to keep the flow moving at the correct dose.

FU2 Chemo is inside the balloon. The balloon deflates each day in line with the calibration marks.

On the fourth day – a community / district nurse comes to me at home – timed as close to the 96 hours (from the previous Monday) and disconnects the pump, flushes my PICC line with saline, changes my PICC dressing and then that’s pretty much it until the next cycle.

The empty Baxter infusor still has to be handled carefully and I’m provided with a special container to hold the pump, which I have to take back to hospital for specialised disposal.

And that’s pretty much how the chemo drugs are administered. Hope it helps someone who might be starting this process and hasn’t bored the remainder of my followers of this blog.

Until the next update of scanxiety and what’s coming next for Wozzer…

Take care and stay safe x

8-Meet Manny the Mask

27th April 2020

It’s my first visit to the Oncology centre in Cheltenham General Hospital.
Around 20 minutes drive from home. It’s good to get out on the road during the lockdown

I’m being fitted with my mask, which will be used for all the radiotherapy sessions. Met in the reception by a very amiable and likeable chap – Liam. He explains the process to me.

And it’s amazing!..

Today’s session is purely mechanical and analytical. Preparing for the treatment. There’s a CAT scanner which today is just being used for measurement analysis (not diagnosis), a steel bed which is the same dimensions as used for the actual radio LINAC treatment and a very special perforated polymer sheet.

The polymer sheet is soaking in warm water and Liam positions me flat on my back, with between a headrest and what I’d describe as a bum stop. So that fixes my line.

The the pliable polymer sheet is places over my head and shoulders and still being pliable, is fixed by clips to the steel bed. So that will be my X and Y position for all future scans.

But now comes the magic – I have to lay perfectly still for around 15 minutes or so. In this time, as the polymer is cooling, it shrinks completely tight against my head and neck. A bit like vacuum forming, but without the vacuum suction.

Now the radiologist team can place marks on the mask, line it with lasers (these can be seen in the photo) so that I’m perfectly positioned and check against this reference scan, throughout the 30 sessions of radiology that I’ll have.

As the mask will be a companion of mine throughout and a close a copy as of me as anyone could see, it needed a name.

So please let me introduce…

Big Manny – the Mask

🙂