Zach vs. Chemo: Rounds 4 & 5

Zelda: Round 4 was a tough one for Zach. Not that rounds 1, 2, or 3 were easy. They were draws at best, and he took a ruthless pounding in each one. But after his 2 big falls, we were more concerned with managing his pain than scoring the fight. We thought that if we could just get his pain under control, he’d be able to roll with the nausea, fatigue, chills, and other low blows chemo was throwing and he could punch his way out of this. 

We finally landed on the right mix of meds and got ahead of the pain. But Zach had no appetite and refused any food I offered. I didn’t want to nag, but I found myself pleading with him on a regular basis to at least take a sip of a protein shake. He was getting only a few hundred calories a day, and losing about 3 pounds a week. It was almost impossible to believe, but he was closing in on his high school wrestling weight. And when I hugged him, it was like squeezing a skeleton. He was all rib cage and shoulder blades with no padding around them. He literally seemed to be withering away before my eyes.

He also started showing signs of neuropathy in his hands and feet: burning in his heels, numbness, tingling, and discoloration along with ridges and blotches in his nail beds. He’d often say his hands or feet were cold, but they felt warm when I touched them. We tried vinegar soaks, massage, Argan oil, and lotion—tons of lotion. We kept the furnace set at 75 degrees during the day and had a space heater running in the bedroom at night. Nothing brought him comfort.

He had 3 weeks between each round, and we knew the first 12 days would be pure hell. We hoped he’d feel better during the last 9 days. But in round 4, he didn’t get much of a reprieve. I held off writing the date of his 5th infusion on the calendar until the last minute. I didn’t want him to see it and get discouraged.

As I made my daily entries in his chemo diary, I’d see the empty rows reserved for the next 4 rounds. We were only halfway through, and I couldn’t imagine filling out all those remaining rows. I didn’t tell Zach, but as his corner woman, I was ready to throw in the towel and stop the match then and there. His misery was more than I could bear.

The 5th round arrived much too soon, and as we headed to the infusion appointment, I reminded Zach that he was in control. No one was forcing him to go through with the treatment, and he could stop any time. And if it was me, I’d at least take a break. The 4th round had taken too much out of him. 

At the same time, I didn’t want to sow doubt and have him give up on treatment. Chemo was hopefully killing the cancer cells, which is what everyone wanted. And we were running out of therapies to try. I worried that stopping chemo early might limit his options, but I wasn’t convinced it made sense to keep going.

We met with the nurse practitioner, and she examined Zach’s hands and feet. She said it looked like neuropathy and suggested taking a “chemo holiday,” which sounded more pleasant and relaxing than it had a right to. But before we broke out the umbrella drinks, she wanted to check with Zach’s oncologist. She left for a few minutes, and when she returned, it was clear something had changed. 

“You’re not going on a chemo holiday after all,” she declared. “You’re done with Docetaxel. No more infusions. Time for you to recover and get healthy.”

Apparently, Zach is in the 20% of patients who develop a toxicity to Docetaxel. It might have been killing cancer cells, but it was also killing him. So his oncologist threw in the towel and stopped the fight. 

“He’s gotten everything he’s going to get out of this,” the doc told us. “Docetaxel is the best of the chemo drugs, but when it’s a bastard, it’s a real bastard. What it’s done to Zach is unforgivable.”

The doc prescribed rest and physical therapy, and Zach had his first PT session that afternoon. The therapist gave him a few balance-related exercises to work on while we figure out what’s next. 

So Zach vs. Chemo didn’t go the full 8 rounds that were scheduled. It ended with a technical knockout at the start of the 5th. 

One thing is certain: There will be no rematch. Zach is done with chemo.