Jimmy FINALLY got me admitted to the hospital yesterday afternoon - we had been packed and scheduled to go in Wednesday morning, but no rooms were available. Actually, I think Dr. Lonial might have been dragging his feet a little about admitting me so soon: my counts were still lower than they preferred, and they really popped up in just that 24 hours. My platelets jumped from 55 to a much more acceptable 97 (normal is 150-400).
After Jimmy got me checked in, he drove to Valdosta, where he spent last night, then went to Amelia today to be with the grandchildren for a few days. I am green with envy, but Jimmy badly need a break from all this 24/7 caregiving, and I am well cared for here at Emory. Plus, my children Jackie and Mary drove up last night after work ( got to Atlanta at 11) and are spending the weekend with me. We'll have some good long visits.
Since yesterday, I've had Rituxin, Decadron, a Methotrexate intrathecal injection, and am on my fourth round of Cytoxan. Treatment is underway in full force.
Oh yes - Tuesday's PET scan again showed no sign of active cancer, and the tumor has shrunk to 1.7 cm. It was initially the size of an elongated baseball, and with the second Pet scan down to 2.4 cm. I want it GONE. I did ask Dr. Lonial this morning, " You still say you're gonna cure me?" He answered with an unqualified, "Yep." A man of his word, he doesn't say things like that frivously.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Recovering
Jimmy waits patiently while I get my 4th infusion of blood products this week.I'm finally beginning to feel human again - this has been a really rough week, with my blood counts dropping so low, then staying there. I had to get MORE platelets yesterday, but everything is finally moving up.
When I wasn't at the cancer clinic, I was in bed, some days too weak to even turn on my computer, which speaks volumes. The only thing I wanted to eat was homemade oatmeal cookies with glasses of almond milk, but I got plenty of calories.
With this heavy chemotherapy I'm getting, and every round becomes tougher to tolerate. It's like with a prizefighter: the more you get knocked down, the harder it is to get up.
When I wasn't at the cancer clinic, I was in bed, some days too weak to even turn on my computer, which speaks volumes. The only thing I wanted to eat was homemade oatmeal cookies with glasses of almond milk, but I got plenty of calories.
With this heavy chemotherapy I'm getting, and every round becomes tougher to tolerate. It's like with a prizefighter: the more you get knocked down, the harder it is to get up.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Ugh
After I got a bag of platelets Friday, I thought maybe I'd feel better this weekend, but I didn't. I just felt worse and worse. This morning my nose was bleeding and my gums were bleeding and I felt terrible, so Jimmy took me back to the hospital for blood tests.We weren't surprised that everything had dropped even lower: platelets 9 (normal 150-400) WBC .3 (normal 3.6-11.1) Hematocrit 20.7 (normal 33.3-41.4). I got another bag of platelets and need 2 units of blood, which I'll get tomorrow. We were there until 6 tonight and I don't expect tomorrow to be much better. Until I get that blood in me, I'll feel like dirt. All of this makes me look at Dracula with a more sympathetic eye.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Weighty matters
"What are you doing?" I asked Jimmy as he pored over his computer. When he finally answered me, he sheepishly said, " Ordering a couple of pairs of no-iron comfort-waist pants from Land's End in a larger size."
Poor Jimmy. He has worked so hard at trying to keep MY weight up that he's put on five or six pounds himself. Between take-out at several nearby restaurants, and having Whole Foods next door, we eat healthily and well, and my weight has been stable. I often don't have much appetite though, and get a lot of coaxing from Jimmy, "MMMmmmmm. Try some of this: it is SOoooo GOOD!" and he ends up eating two bites for every one of mine.
We finished up Round 4 at the hospital last weekend: 4 down, 4 to go. My counts are falling again, and I'm dragging around, but we're in good spirits, and very pleased with how well things are going.
Poor Jimmy. He has worked so hard at trying to keep MY weight up that he's put on five or six pounds himself. Between take-out at several nearby restaurants, and having Whole Foods next door, we eat healthily and well, and my weight has been stable. I often don't have much appetite though, and get a lot of coaxing from Jimmy, "MMMmmmmm. Try some of this: it is SOoooo GOOD!" and he ends up eating two bites for every one of mine.
We finished up Round 4 at the hospital last weekend: 4 down, 4 to go. My counts are falling again, and I'm dragging around, but we're in good spirits, and very pleased with how well things are going.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Cinco de Mayo on 8E
Jimmy checked me into the hospital yesterday morning, and it's now almost midnight Thursday, and things have been going full-tilt ever since we got here. I've already had Rituxan, a 24-hour Methotrexate infusion, the dreaded intrathecal injection in my back, Methylprednisolone IV, and now we're waiting for the Cytarabine to get sent up from pharmacy. This place stays up all night, just like Las Vegas.
As I've mentioned before, our floor is 8E, where we spent about a year, fighting Jimmy's multiple myeloma, and despite the depressing circumstances, it's a wonderful place. The nurses and staff are so caring and upbeat, and try to do everything they can to make the atmosphere cheerful. It's great for the morale.
Since yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, the nurses station was all decorated for the occasion, and the nurses had on sombreros. (I missed getting pictures of the nurses in their headwear.)
You have to look closely, but balloons are on most of the doors for the patients who've just had transplants. I think I'm one of the few non-transplants on the floor, but my Hyper C-VAD status must qualify.
This is one of the banners over the nurses station; if you can't make out the writing on the left, it says no blood cancers.
The steroids gave me some energy today, and so I donned my favorite green print PJ's and my "Beth" wig and sashayed around the corridor with my IV pole in tow for 21 laps - one mile. I kept passing this sign on the wall that has been around a long time but I still like it.
It's 12:52 now, and the Cytarabine has arrived.
As I've mentioned before, our floor is 8E, where we spent about a year, fighting Jimmy's multiple myeloma, and despite the depressing circumstances, it's a wonderful place. The nurses and staff are so caring and upbeat, and try to do everything they can to make the atmosphere cheerful. It's great for the morale.
Since yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, the nurses station was all decorated for the occasion, and the nurses had on sombreros. (I missed getting pictures of the nurses in their headwear.)
You have to look closely, but balloons are on most of the doors for the patients who've just had transplants. I think I'm one of the few non-transplants on the floor, but my Hyper C-VAD status must qualify.
This is one of the banners over the nurses station; if you can't make out the writing on the left, it says no blood cancers.
The steroids gave me some energy today, and so I donned my favorite green print PJ's and my "Beth" wig and sashayed around the corridor with my IV pole in tow for 21 laps - one mile. I kept passing this sign on the wall that has been around a long time but I still like it.
It's 12:52 now, and the Cytarabine has arrived.Sunday, May 2, 2010
Old cars
Friday's infusion made me feel much better, so today Jimmy said, "We need to get you out of this apartment. We're going on an outing." There's a car exhibition at the High Museum, and although, unlike Jimmy, I'm not a car buff and my expectations were minimal, we decided to go.
It was beautiful. Forget the fact that it was just a lot of old cars: from the perspective of design and art, it was the best exhibit I've seen in quite a while. I can't decide which of the pictures I took to post, so I'm publishing them all.
It was beautiful. Forget the fact that it was just a lot of old cars: from the perspective of design and art, it was the best exhibit I've seen in quite a while. I can't decide which of the pictures I took to post, so I'm publishing them all.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
More infusions
We weren't very surprised when yesterday's blood tests showed that I needed infusions; I would have been MORE surprised if they'd said I didn't. Jimmy had a lunch date scheduled with his buddy Ed Jared, and I insisted that he go: those infusions take forever, and as it was, Jimmy still had a long wait when he got back.
This time I had a reaction to the blood products and started itching and breaking out in hives, so they had to give me an infusion of Benedryl, which made me feel all loosey goosey - a lot stronger than the effects of 25 mg in pill form, but it stopped the itching.
This time I had a reaction to the blood products and started itching and breaking out in hives, so they had to give me an infusion of Benedryl, which made me feel all loosey goosey - a lot stronger than the effects of 25 mg in pill form, but it stopped the itching.
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