Many of our fellow warriors take their chemo PO, meaning Per Os, or taken orally, instead of intravenously. Those that are lucky to have done this and continue to do this, have the extreme pleasure of being schooled on the rules of treatment from the specialty pharma companies, and the very lengthy package inserts.
I can remember it like it was just yesterday. I am in a hotel outside of Boston waiting for one of my sales reps to pick me up for the day. Two of my other reps are arguing over texts. Do they not understand that I have to order my first round of poison? No clue that I needed at least thirty minutes to complete the order. Nor did I realize that you have to have the script ordered by your oncologist, and then you yourself have to go online to make sure it is an active prescription. Then you must dial into the pharmacy to discuss insurance, specify what type of medication you are getting, and the rules that go along with it. Next up, chat with a nurse who is the bearer of all the humor here. Once you get past her, they transfer you to a pharmacist for any questions. Then and only then, after running your insurance, can they authorize the prescription and have it sent. Pay as you go here, no other way. No free or low financing available.
The first few questions were standard. They ask your age. Then the fun starts. She asks me if my periods stopped voluntarily. Hmm, the chance to have some fun here- my response; “no I wrestled them to the ground, it was tough!” Silence! More silence! Ok, guess I’ll resume with the inquisition. Perhaps she has lost her humor from a bad day. I should not be rude. On the other hand, maybe she put herself on mute, so I would not hear her laughing. I will go with the latter. Next, up, she tells me not to take the chemo if I might be pregnant. Well, if I wrestled my period to the ground, there should be very little chance, almost an impossibility of being able to conceive again. But hey, I will just go with the recommendation for now.
She proceeds to make sure I completely understand that “YOU CAN’T SHARE YOUR CHEMO!” I had to give this one some thought. Why would someone share their chemo? Moreover, whom would you pick to share it with? Is there a dark part of the web that has cancer patients asking for donations? Trouble with insurance? Don’t particularly like the type of chemo you are taking so you search out a better drug recommended by fellow patients? Do I stalk people outside the cancer center and do a quick poll to see if they would actually like me to share my chemo? All good questions, I thought. The easy way would be to just share with my family and friends so they can see how horribly tired I am, and feel like a pole has impaled my body. They just might want to know how I feel. Right? Does every chemo work the same way? Is it like ordering a cappuccino or half and half no whip no foam extra shot, very hot? Can it be personalized? Is it how Garanimals children’s clothes used to be? Mix and match? Most importantly, I asked her, who would really tell you if they shared their chemo? Is it illegal? Can I go to jail? At approximately $900 per capsule, who would dare not take it all yourself? Ah, maybe there is a barter system in a third world country. Maybe an African nation with a huge diamond mine? I love jewelry. Perhaps I could swap twenty- one days’ worth for a four-carat rock. Getting the picture here? I think I lost her at cappuccino. She actually started to laugh. Poor thing should have known this was not going to be your typical “read her the script” directions and get the heck off the call. She regained her composure and stated that there are many side effects to chemo and each prescription needs to be patient-specific. I still had to know if anyone shared their meds and then ratted themselves out. That is a bigger issue of someone taking medication that is not intelligent enough to take it all and not pass it around. She said as long as she has been doing this, no one has told her they shared their meds. Hah, no benevolence in chemo I see. I always think of myself as a very generous but smart person. So I get it, YOU CAN’T SHARE YOUR CHEMO!
Next, she actually reminded me that pregnant people should not take chemo. So this goes back to don’t share your chemo, especially with pregnant women. Chemo can cause birth defects. Hmm. I think I missed that.
Lastly, she recommended that I read the package insert or the instructions for use in its entirety. Particularly the part about not handling the pills. Not breaking them open, or squirting it in your eyes! In addition, of course, no smoking. Really? Note to self- already did read it. That is an entirely different soon-to-be blog. I bet you cannot wait for that one. I am positive if everyone that had cancer actually bothered to read about all of the possible side effects, no one would ever consider taking this lovely poison.
Thank goodness, the interview was ending. Now onto the pharmacist to hopefully not repeat any of these absurdities. Can I just please just get the chemo sent? Turns out, prior to CVS allowing delivery to the pharmacy, one had to have it delivered to your home. You have to sign for it. I guess cancer patients do not work? It’s amazing to me that when both my parents were in hospice; the UPS guy just dumped their morphine on the porch with no signature required. But hey chemo, you need to sign! You see it all goes back to the same thing, sharing your chemo. Someone might actually find out they are delivering it, and swipe as if it were some joyful package from Amazon. But it wouldn’t be my fault then if it were borrowed or stolen off my porch, would it?
Thanks for tuning in. I look forward to hearing funny stories about ordering chemo, or humorous conversations you have had with nurses or pharmacists trying to get your meds. Until then, find something funny to talk about and share. We all need to have a daily laugh.
Best,
Cathy