Low counts

I apologize for being so uncommunicative this week, but as you have surmised, I've been pretty wiped out, and everything is too much of an effort - even conversation. Things will start perking up in a day or so.

Jimmy's tests confirm that he continues to be in complete remission, and he looks and feels great. When I look back over the last three years, I shudder to think how differently things could have turned out, for both of us, and I'm overwhelmed at how truly blessed we have been.

Gastronomy and inertia

*** Our minimalist apartment kitchen ***

When I awakened from one of my naps Wednesday, Jimmy greeted me with, " I just watched the greatest little movie: Julie and Julia. Have you seen it? You'd LOVE it!" I told him that, unlike most of America, I hadn't seen it yet, but it's on my ever-increasing to-do list. My attention-span has rivaled that of a gnat lately, with an energy level low for a three-toed sloth, so this Dewar isn't getting much done. Chemoid inertia has highjacked my life.

Back to Julie and Julia: you must remember that Jimmy doesn't re-read books nor watch movies more that once (well, maybe Lawrence of Arabia or Out of Africa every ten years on general principles.) So it was perplexing when he wanted me to watch Julie and Julia NOW, which I did, and he watched it with me, mesmerized anew."Don't you love that movie? Doesn't it make you want to COOK?" "No. Not today." I just stared at him. Food makes me sick. The smell of food makes me sick. The last thing I want to do is use even more of my precious energy in the kitchen.

I think the boy must be hungry, and the sight of the fabulous meals these women were serving their husbands every night has overwhelmed him. I have promised him though, that when we get home, we'll take up cooking together. The truth is, I think HE wants to learn to cook, but wants me to help him get started.

The status quo works for now, although since he says I'm looking "frail", he has gained five pounds trying to fatten me up.

Double dip

Jimmy's regular 60-day tests were today, and I had blood tests, a doctor's appointment and got a Neulasta shot in my abdomen. We arrived at the clinic at 10 o'clock, and all we had done probably didn't take 30 minutes combined, but with the scheduling between appointments, and all the waiting, it consumed most of the day.

As usual, we'll get the results of Jimmy's tests next week, but we expect everything to be fine. My counts haven't started dropping much yet, so except for all the sitting around and waiting, I didn't have too bad a day.

By the way, Neulasta shots boost the white blood counts to help keep patients who are getting strong chemotherapy from contracting severe infections when the white count goes into the "cellar". They do cause bone pain though.

Andy to the rescue

The hospital let me go at about 5 o'clock yesterday afternoon, and I was SO ready to leave: I was hooked up to an IV the entire time, and got a lot of chemo, plus 2 units of blood and several bags of potassium. Nausea has been an issue, but it's manageable.

Jimmy brought ANDY back up to Atlanta with him, and having him here with us in the apartment will be a big morale booster for us both.

Round 3

William and Pam checked me into the hospital on Wednesday for Round 3, and check-in this time was easy. Everything is going well, although I had a bit of a rough morning with a bad headache and nausea, but meds improved the situation. All of this chemo they're giving me has a cumulative effect, and I'm getting a lot of Cytoxin this week, in addition to the Methatrexate spinal infusion and the Rituxin. More Cytoxin tomorrow, plus Vincristine then a 24 hour infusion of Doxorubicin. I may have had a good report, but they aren't easing up at all.

Jimmy is coming back tomorrow, and William and Pam are leaving : they have been wonderful - way above the call of duty - and I have thoroughly enjoyed them.

Fantastic news

We got some unbelievably good results from the PET scan I had last Friday: they could find no visible signs of cancerous activity, and the tumor has shrunk to 1.3 X 2.3 cm. And this is after only two rounds of chemotherapy.

As I said before, I have to continue on with the program, to go for the cure, and to make sure it's all gone and never comes back. But this is elating news.

Jimmy had to go back to Valdosta yesterday for a few days, and my precious brother and sister-in-law, William and Pam are babysitting me. We're having a wonderful time, but to have them here with me today for that report was icing on the cake.

Saturday update

Exhausted from spending most of yesterday at Emory, we consequently made up for it by resting and napping (and watching the Masters- go Phil!) all day today. This business of being sick is hard work.

All my counts are up, so no infusions were necessary, and I'm feeling much better. These few days before I have to go back into the hospital are by far the easiest of the treatment cycle.

We won't know the results of the PET scan until next week. The tumor has shrunk to where I can't feel it any more when I mash on my stomach. It would be so wonderful if they told me I was cured and to go home, but that won't happen; Dr. Lonial says I have to go through all eight treatments. And we're thankful they're being so careful.

Brunhilda

" If you aren't a vision," Jimmy laughed. "I've got to have a picture of this." I was feeling puny, and so had pulled on my stocking cap from Rite-Aid and crawled into bed.We've gotten a kick out of my wigs, assigning them names and personalities, but I confess that I wear the stocking cap a lot around the apartment. My head gets so cold. Stocking-head sleeps a lot, is quiet and just mopes around, and is named Brunhilda.

Platelets

Blood tests today showed that my RBC is up, WBC slightly up, but at 25, my platelets are still way too low, and I had to get an infusion. The blood I got Sunday has made me feel much better though.

Easter Sunday

We had to be at Emory this morning before 8AM for my blood counts to be checked: not exactly the type of sunrise service we're accustomed to on a gorgeous Easter morning. We were there until mid-afternoon.

Not surprisingly, I had to get two units of blood, a bag of platelets, and potassium. That explains the extreme fatigue I've experienced over the last couple of days. Maybe now I'll perk up a little. Everything is going the way it's supposed to be going, and none of this is unusual or unexpected.

white blood count: .5 (normal: 3.6-11.1)
red blood count: 2.63 (normal: 3.69-4.88)
hemoglobin: 8.2 (normal: 11.4-14.4)
hematocrit: 23.3 (normal: 37.7-46.5)
platelets: 20 (normal: 150-400)


It wasn't too busy today, so Jimmy got to nap and read in the chair next to mine.

Beth (more on Beth later) smiles about some Easter candy given to her by the nurses.

Friday

Jimmy made a quick foray into Whole Foods after my appointment at Emory this morning. I'm doing fine, but my counts are dropping, and a walk adross the room leaves me panting like I've climbed six flights of stairs. This type of fatigue is hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it - it's numbing and rest doesn't seem to help. I shouldn't complain, though, because so far, I've had hardly any of the bad stuff: nausea, mouth sores, fevers, etc.

We have to go back at 8 Sunday morning, just to make sure my counts haven't dropped too far.