Starting the Second Half

You know how, when you're watching a football game (I picture a high-school game here in our little town,) the team  heads to the locker room at half time?  If they have a rough first half, I imagine the coach tells them to pull it together and talks to them about the best way to turn it around.

If the team is winning when halftime gets here, they head to the locker room and talk about their strengths, how well they're doing, and how to keep the momentum rolling.  Of course, I've never been in a locker room during half-time of a football game, but this is what I expect.

Today, I start my "second half."  My body played a first half until the last couple of downs.  I had it pretty easy, looking like the star quarterback as I went through my first three treatments.  For my fourth treatment, though, cancer's team introduced some new players.  Big dudes from out of town.

My whites took a beating, leaving me in the hospital for three days.  My reds hit bottom, causing me to need a unit of blood.  I could do nothing more than come home from work and go straight to bed for over a week.  If my family wanted/needed something, they knew to come to my room.  It was a very depressing time.  Back to my football analogy, I was taking a beating and starting to feel like there was no way I could finish this game.

My whites bounced back over the weekend, though, and I felt better yesterday after receiving that unit of blood.  It's halftime, and I'm getting ready to start the second half.  Today is my first infusion of Taxol.  Most people who have had the Adriamycin/Cytoxan combo, and then had Taxol say that Taxol is the easier of the two.  I'm counting on that.  The coach is telling me that I'll get through this half with no problems, coming out the victor.

No matter what, the bell signalling the end of the game will ring on September 20.  Sure, I'll probably still need radiation, but chemo, as well as the assault on my white blood cells, will be over.  It feels good to say I'm halfway done.  Queue up the marching band and you guys go hit the concession stand and get a hot dog and a soda.  It's time for me to take the field for the second half.

Staying Another Day? Picture Time!

Since I'm here for another day, we'll explore my little corner of this fine establishment. (click on any image to make it larger.)  The first thing I noticed was that the ceiling tile right in the middle of the room was painted.  Not painted with an uplifting message like your OB/GYN office.  Nope.  Not like that at all:

What the heck, you ask?  I have no idea, but those not-drawn-to-scale animals have been keeping me company.

That first night I was here, Monica came with Kevin when he brought me the necessities for my unplanned stay.  She looked at the wall and said, "Is this a Catholic hospital?"  I told her that it was, and asked what made her ask.  She said, "Because of that cross, and that looks like an old clock from a church."

They are neither centered on the wall, nor are they hanging straight.  And bless Monica's heart, I still don't see what is "Catholic" about that clock.

Another thing to consider, if you wonder what amazing things abound in this room, is this:

I have, at my disposal, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, a VCR!  Don't go hatin'.  You can't all be me.

This is my view, which reveals another section of this enormous hospital:

There is nothing wrong with this.  The problem is that pterodactyls keep flying by the window, scaring the CRAP out of me.  OK, maybe they're pigeons, but they look HUGE out of the corner of my eye.  One actually hit the window earlier, and I nearly soiled the bed.  TMI?  Too late.  You can't un-read something.

Finally, the giant gift bag that was dropped off by a mystery delivery lady yesterday.  Kevin stopped by after work and added to the bounty.  Even after I indulged in a bit of sweet/salty last night (potato chips and chocolate could join forces to rule the world,) all of this is still left:

It has been quite handy to have these items at my disposal, since a few of my meal choices have been questionable at best.  Mmmm.  Junk food.

OK, here's to going home tomorrow.  Here's to higher white cell counts.  Here's to a decent night's sleep.  Here's to potato chips and chocolate!  Oops.  How'd that one get in there?

A Change of Plans

I expected bone pain on Monday.  It's one of the joys of my chemo plan.  I get a Neulasta shot on the day after infusion, which helps my bones produce white cells more quickly.  The drawback is that I get bad bone pain (lower back, hips and legs) 3-4 days after the shot.  At least I can plan for it, which means that I knew Monday would be tough.

I made it until about 11 at work and decided to go home and try to get some work done from there.  On the way home, I started feeling overall yucky.  I wasn't even logged in to work before deciding that work wasn't going to happen just yet.  I needed a nap.  I felt like CRAP.  I told the girls that I was going to grab a nap, and went to bed around 1:30.

The next thing I remember, it was nearly 5 and Kevin was home from work.  I was chilling, had a splitting headache, and was overall miserable.  I took my temperature and it was 101.6.  We are to call the on-call doctor if it reaches 100.5, so I asked Kevin to call.  I could barely think, so I knew I wouldn't be able to make a coherent phone call.

She called in an antibiotic, which Kevin went to pick up for me.  She also told me to go in for blood work first thing this morning.  I woke with a temp under 100, so I figured I'd get blood drawn and then go in to work.  Wrong.

They drew blood from my port, drew blood from my arm, took a urine sample and took a chest X-ray.  I waited about an hour for the results, and knew they weren't good when my oncologist came in to deliver the news, instead of the nurse.  She told me that she doesn't like to see white counts under 2000, and mine were 700.  Paired with my fever the night before, she wanted to admit me.  *sigh*

A new problem developed when they found out that there were no beds at the hospital where I was.  I would have to go to the Kansas City location.  I called Kevin, who left work to come get me.  I was exhausted, still had a headache, and didn't feel up to the drive.   Plus, by this point, I was a little bit scared.  We finally headed out around noon, grabbed a bite to eat, and got to "the big hospital."  Seriously, one can easily get lost here.

By the time I was in a room, it was 2:00.  Kevin had to go home to get some necessities for me (I had no phone charger or computer or toothbrush, for heaven's sake!)  They accessed my port again, finally gave me some Tylenol for my headache, and I settled in.

From what they say, I'll be here a couple of days.  I have no fever, and my headache is down to a dull roar when on Tylenol.  I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in the hospital, so I'm not quite sure what to do here.  I guess I'll just do as they say, lie here, and build white blood cells.  Thank goodness for in-room internet.