What I called my Christmas Tree of Chemotherapy

I haven’t written anything for over a month because once I hit the Stanford Hospital, I didn’t feel much like writing and even had a hard time concentrating and seeing. So, except for a couple of articles previously that I had prepared, I added nothing. Maybe part of it could be seen in a recent USA Weekend article entitled, How a deadly gas became a lifesaver.

The word "chemotherapy" is inextricably linked to healing, although its origins derive from the deadly mustard gas used in World War I. Today, medical specialists all over the world use this powerful tool as part of cancer treatment. Now there are about 100 types of chemotherapy that are available for use—a huge accomplishment considering that it was only 60 years ago that the Food and Drug Administration approved the first chemotherapeutic agent.

During World War I, it was noted that many soldiers exposed to mustard gas developed declines in bone and lymph system function. Scientists theorized that such chemical power, if harnessed, might wreak havoc on cancer cells. In 1942, when an anonymous patient first received "Compound X," doctors hoped that the cancer would respond favorably, which it did, at least for a short period of time.

By 1949, enough positive studies were available to convince the FDA to approve nitrogen mustard for treatment. Since then, strides in chemotherapy have given cancer specialists more options. Although these drugs are harsh and can be dangerous, they are lifesavers. Considering the original chemical was developed as a tool of death, that's a pleasant irony. Tedd Mitchell, M.D., president and CEO of Dallas' Cooper Clinic, writes HealthSmart every week. So this is really what I encountered. I ended up taking chemotherapy that was up to ten times worse than I had been previously given. This gave me sores in my mouth and throat and several weeks of recovery were the least of the problems. The worst seemed to be the mental condition it put me in. It seemed to leave me disoriented. A nurse talked to me a couple of weeks later and told how I wanted to get out of the room, go outside and they had to restrain me. I don’t remember much of the evening except for the bad dreams I had that night. It was a terrible experience to have and I was finally happy when I was finished with two such doses of this heavy chemo. In addition, the medicines they pump into you makes one a little hazy in one’s thinking. One day a nurse suspected this with me and asked me a number of questions. One was, “Who is the president of the United States?” I said, “Osama bin Laden!” They rushed me off to ER! Koyce was quite a trouper to sit there and watch me in this condition until they finally encouraged her to go the place she was staying.