It's the Knowing

BOX SCORE




Element

Current

Std. Range

Trend

Hemoglobin

10.5

13-17

v

Platelets

13

140-375

v

ANC

1030

1800-8300

v

Did you ever have something you were expecting to happen, but you didn't know when? Was it something you were really excited about? You know, like that trip to Hawaii you've always dreamed about.  Remember how hard it was to wait, especially not knowing exactly how it would look or when it would happen? Well, I learned in the past week that,  even if that something is NOT really exciting, and even if it is something you would just as soon not take on, waiting for it is difficult. 

Here's the skinny. Last Tuesday we met with Dr. Brow, my oncologist (See Surprise, surprise!). She told us that my leukemia has relapsed, that I need to go to the hospital again, and (here's the surprise) the tumor board is thinking maybe I could be a candidate for a bone marrow transplant. Okay, that's a lot to process, but the part that I'm concerned with here is the trip to the hospital. At the end of our conversation, Jill and I had the distinct impression that it was definitely going to happen. In fact, Dr. Brow told us it might happen by the end of last week. 

Now, this week, I had chemotherapy appointments on the books that had been scheduled several months ago, but they were cancelled, primarily because the particular chemo that I was receiving was no longer effective. The final word from Dr. Brow was, "I'll contact you as soon as I know something more." So, the past six days we have been waiting to hear "something more." We both felt pretty much at loose ends. We're used to knowing what is going to happen next in our AML journey and when it's going to happen. We didn't know exactly how to go about our routines. After all, it was "chemo week," but there was no chemo! It was kind of like waiting to hear that all the details of that Hawaii trip were planned and marked on the calendar. 

Now this ain't no trip to Maui, we're talking about. It's a one month stay at Sunnyside Hospital for medical treatment, aka chemotherapy. I'll grant you that, if you have followed this blog from the beginning, you may recall that the last time I was having hospital stays at Sunnyside, Jill and I dubbed the place Club Sunnyside. That's because the oncology staff was so wonderful. It was as if I were a king and they were my subjects waiting on me hand and foot...even if I didn't ask. It didn't hurt that my room had a huge picture window looking out over the city from four stories up, either. Still, given the choice, I would take the Hawaii trip. 

Today, we got a call from Suzanne, my case manager. She told us that Wednesday this week we are to report to Central Interstate Infusion Center in Portland, so that I can have another PICC line inserted (See Your PICC Line is Your Pal). That's going to give my veins a rest from all the needle sticks that I have had since the spring of this year, when my Venous Port had to be removed. The other part of Suzanne's message was that we are to check in at Sunnyside (Club Sunnyside to you) on Thursday morning, 8:00AM sharp. She mentioned that OHSU wanted to know that this was going to happen. (Could they be on board with the transplant idea?) So, the expectation is that I will be plugged in to my old friend Olive Oyl (See Unpronounceable Medicines and Olive Oyl) for five days, perhaps, as early as Thursday, that's December 14, 2023! 

Now if you are the astute observer I think you are and can count to 11, you will notice that 30 days in the hospital will mean celebrating Christmas at Club Sunnyside. (I hope Santa can find me!) And if you are one of my advanced students and can count to 18, you will also realize that I'll be watching the Rose Bowl at the Club as well. Suzanne was quite apologetic about these "inconveniences," until we told her that in 2021, we celebrated our wedding anniversary and my birthday there. A couple of holidays in the hospital? Yawn...been there,  done that. 

And so, in spite of the fact that we would prefer to be at home for the holidays, at least we have a plan and a timeline. Life is back to "normal." Whoa! That's weird. How many people consider knowing that they will be spending the holidays in the hospital to be "back to normal?" No, no, you've missed the point. It's the KNOWING what is coming that is the "normal" part, even if life with AML is no luau. On the other hand, you probably have some things in your life that you could do without. As I told Jill during this waiting period, "We're just living our lives like everybody else. In our case there just happens to be the added dimension of AML" overlaid on it. 

I hope you get to go to Hawaii some time. It really is a wonderland. I hope you never need to visit Club Sunnyside, but if you do, I can tell you that you will be treated like royalty. For right now, though, I recommend we all focus on the reason for the season, Jesus Christ. 

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6 KJV)

Wherever you are, and whatever your circumstances during Christmas and the new year, may you know His peace.

 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Anniversary

Today is our wedding anniversary. Jill has survived 21 years with me. Our marriage is old enough to drink!! In many ways, it seems like only a couple of years since our wedding day, and in other ways it seems as if we have always been us. This, I believe, is what is referred to in the fairy tales as "wedded bliss." Only, in our case, it isn't a fairy tale at all. It's just, well...wedded bliss. How I love that girl! A year ago today, I finished my induction chemotherapy at Club Sunnyside. Jill picked up German food at Gustav's, which is across the street from the hospital campus. She also picked up Bundt cakes from "Nothing Bundt Cake;" a little one for us and a big one for the oncology staff. It was as fine a celebration as we could muster under the circumstances, and one we will never forget.  Today we had a morning clinic visit. This time for Jill's blood pressure, which with the help of a new medication added to her regimen, is perfect, thank you...
Read more

A Dream Come True

Image
BOX SCORE Element Current Std. Range Trend Hemoglobin 11 13-17 ^ Platelets 89 140-375 v ANC 2810 1800-8300 ^ When I was a youngster, probably about 10 years old, my dad introduced me to model making. Mainly we built models from kits, but Dad also taught me how to make a stick and paper airplane from scratch. It actually flew, with the help of a rubber band motor. But one of my favorite plastic model kits was an MG-TD sports car. You may remember this car from your youth (if you are old, like me) or from old movies, or maybe from a car show. It was a little, English two-seater with long sweeping front fenders and a vertical grille. The windshield (well, windscreen, if you are Brit...
Read more

Don' be that guy!

Remember the Mighty Casey? In Ernest Lawrence Thayer's famous poem "Casey at the Bat," he was the pride of the Mudville baseball team. We join the story in the 9th inning:  The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. The crowd was in despair. Down two in the bottom of the ninth with two outs, they were beginning to leave the stadium. The next two batters were the bottom of the order and offered little hope, but Flynn hit a single, and Blake a double. Suddenly, there was hope for the Mudville nine, for the top of the order, none other than the mighty Casey, was coming to bat with two men in scoring position. Even a base hit would keep the game alive, and a home run, well that would end it in a glorious, ecstatic victory.  Now Casey, apparently, had embraced the hype about hi...
Read more