My Alzheimer's Journey
Part 57 - Infusion Day - 6 down and 30 to go
Yep, today was Infusion Day. A day that is only slightly better than MRI Day.
I only slept three hours last night. When my alarm started screaming at 6:30 this morning, I wanted to roll over and say F-you infusion. Big Bit sensed that I was thinking that - maybe I said it out loud. Either way, Big Bit wanted breakfast, and that meant her slave (me) had to get out of bed. A couple of face scratches and I bolted out of bed.
After feeding the cats, I drank a bottle of water and got ready for my infusion.
An Uber picked me up at 8:00. We rolled up to the Duke Cancer Center at 8:20.
My appointment with the needle was at 9:15. I was ahead of schedule. I fought the urge to get a biscuit.
After checking in, a nurse came to the waiting room and took me back to the large infusion room. First order of business was weighing me, so the pharmacy would know how much Lecanemab to prepare. Next, my blood pressure was taken. We had a problem. My blood pressure was much higher than it should be. After a few questions from the nurse, it was determined that my blood pressure problem did not seem to be due to something like a stroke or a heart attack. The consensus was stress related to the damn needle about to be shoved into my hand caused high blood pressure.
A glass of water and fifteen minutes of calm was ordered.
Soon, I was ready for the needle.
This nurse was super gentle. I barely felt anything. Well, truth be told, the “quick, sharp pinch” hurt like hell. Soon, my hand looked like this;
A bit later, the pharmacy brought the Lecanemab and the infusion began. At some point, I got cold, so I requested a warm blanket. These are the best blankets. In fact, if you asked the President of the United States to describe the blanket, I think he would say this -
"Duke has the best blanket. It's a tremendous blanket. Believe me. Nobody has ever seen a blanket like this, nobody. It's huge, it's beautiful, and it's so, so soft. We're talking about the softest blanket, maybe ever, in the history of blankets. I personally selected these blankets. Let’s call them Trump blankets.”
An hour after the infusion started, the bag was empty. Lecanemab was flowing through my body (hopefully headed to my brain). My recovery time has been reduced to thirty minutes, so before I knew it, my time to depart had arrived. A blood pressure check showed a nice decline. Not enough of a decline, but headed in the right direction.
I ordered an Uber and enjoyed the pianist playing holiday music in the expansive Cancer Center lobby while waiting for the car to arrive.
I immediately went to bed when I arrived at home. Remember, I slept three hours last night. Linda is visiting family in Maryland, so it is me and the cats at home for a few days. Two of the three cats joined me for a nap. Don’t ask about the third cat. It is a long story.
I woke up a few hours later, feeling very sick. I felt flushed, chilled, and nauseated. Thanks Lecanemab.
After consulting with Linda, checking my blood pressure, and considering a trip to the Duke ER, we decided I should try to sleep. That worked for the most part. I slept a few hours and woke up feeling much better.
When I woke up, I was confused and disoriented. I thought I was in an Airbnb on a work trip. I thought about going home to our South Carolina house. Eventually, I remembered that I was at home. Our new home in Chapel Hill.
This confusion has happened previously.
Confusion and disorientation is a symptom of the early stages of Alzheimer’s. This is a great list of the stages and symptoms of Alzheimer’s.
I ate dinner, and I am snuggling with the cats. I feel much better than I did six hours ago. Still not 100% back to normal, though. Do I even have a normal anymore?
I have a dish of banana pudding sitting beside me. I believe I will feel astonishingly great after I eat it.
As I searched for an appropriate image for this post, I found this one:
Can someone tell me where to sign up for a cash infusion?