I went up to the fourth floor of the medical building, where the oncologists office is located. I signed in and waited to be escorted to the infusion room.... a room I was all too familiar with. The smell in that room still makes me physically sick, the chemicals, antiseptics, alcohol... etc.... just brings back so many memories... ports, saline solution, the red devil..... you name it. I can barely walk by that room without wanting to throw up.
But on this day I wasn't taken to that room, instead I was escorted back down the hall, into a smaller area where every patient had their own small room for their infusion. So this was it.... my last two experiences with metaplastic breast cancer I had been grouped with all the others, in the big room but I had graduated to my own special place. All alone. I am now a special case.
Don't get me wrong, I am eternally grateful (at this moment) to have been accepted into the PDL1 clinical trial (MEDI4736).
This drug is substantially the same drug that saw so much success with melanoma that it was fast tracked by the FDA. Seems great but the frustrating thing is that the medical definition of success is much lower than my own. There is still a better than 50% chance that this drug will have no affect on me at all. And, they are not offering me a cure, it's still just an extension of life. But I am chosing to see a miracle. Someone has to be the first miracle.... why not me?
So there I sat in my own little private room. While I appreciate the comfort of the privacy and attention all on me, I also recognize that this is the end.... the last room they have for me.
Just like my grandpa who went from his own home, to a small condo to a single room.... the world is getting smaller. For now the tiny room will do but here's to success and hoping that the little room does the trick and opens up the rest of the world to me again.