Abstract
“See you Friday, doc,” said the well built 30-year-old man with bright eyes and a wry grin as he walked down the hall to his room early Monday morning. He was dressed in sweat pants, a Red Sox shirt, and cap and running shoes. He was starting 4 days of intensive chemotherapy for his sarcoma in the now mostly forgotten pre-ondansetron era. To control his vomiting, he was facing 4 days of sedation from a high-dose metoclopramide infusion with diphenhydramine and lorazepam. He would emerge at the end of the week bleary eyed, unshaven, and stale. Fortunately, his wife reported that he cleaned up nicely.
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