Treatments and Platelets and Pumps, oh my!

Written by Wayne:

On my last treatment right after Christmas, the doctor was concerned my platelets were too low since they were at 93,000. He went ahead and authorized a treatment for that day, December 27. He told me if my platelets  were not improved by the time of my next visit I would have to skip a week. However he did reduce one of the drugs by 20%. That should help with the tingling in my fingers and lips and my  aversion to cold.

I received a call at 8:30 Sunday night, January 9, that my Monday morning treatment was cancelled. Snow and ice took care of that. Had I not got the call, I am hard headed enough I would have been on my way to Carrollton on Monday morning. I thought I might have a  call on Tuesday or Wednesday to come in. I was ready to go regardless of the conditions of the road.

On Thursday I went to breakfast with my accountability  partners. When I got home, the treatment center had just called asking if I could come in. My first concern was, "Do I have to wear the pump from Thursday to Monday?" No! Someone would meet me on Saturday to remove the pump. {more on the removal later}

By now you know the drill…co-pay, vital signs, blood work. My weight is steady. white cells are good, blood is 12.2 and the platelets were 112,000 - all good and positive signs. 

The treatment room was almost empty while I was there. I was the only patient that was to get a pump. I have a port in my chest which is not removable, except by surgery. I watch the people that have needles in their hands or arms and see how difficult it is for them to move around. They are taped pretty heavily but I have seen them pulled out. That created a bit of a stir.

Wearing the pump for 46 hours changes your life for that period of time. It comes with a belt you can wear around your waist or over your shoulder. In the evenings, I take the belt off, put on a robe and drop the pump in a pocket. At night, I stretch the hose out as far as it will go. I then put it under a pillow to muffle it so I can sleep. When the pump activates, it makes a clicking sound. When all is still and quiet, after a while, it seem someone is beating on a drum.

It's 1:00 pm on Saturday, January 15, and we meet the lady {nursing supervisor Sue} and she takes the pump off. Flushing the pump ,disconnecting from the port. putting a band-aid on the port, giving me a shot takes 7 to 8 minutes and we are gone.

Now more on the pump removal: We received a letter from the insurance company. I now have to pay a co-pay of $35.00 to have the pump removed. This is a 10 minute process tops, with no doctor present. If I had the energy I would get back on my soapbox, but it would change nothing. Thanks for your prayers and concern. 

Wayne

A little relief and some gratitude

Posted by Teri:

This Monday, which just happened to be Day One of Snowmageddon 2011, was a scheduled treatment day for my dad. He has taken four out of the required twelve, so we have eight more treatments to go. Last treatment, his white platelets were very low, which is a common side effect for chemo patients. Basically, the chemo is annihilating his immune system. His doctor is monitoring his levels, thankfully, and recommended waiting an extra week for the next chemo treatment if his platelets were still low. Well, Dad is hard headed and would have pushed for the treatment to happen regardless. So, a little relief came over me when I realized that with all the snow and ice (No kidding, tomorrow is our THIRD snow day. I'm telling you, it's Snowmageddon), he would not be receiving his next treatment on Monday.

Dad will always tell you that he is fine. Whenever anyone asks him how he feels, he busts out these compellingly believable answers: "Oh, I'm great!" or "I feel fine/good!" Let me ask you, have you ever met a chemo patient that felt great? That was a rhetorical question, so I will just answer it for you...NO, you have not. And when you talk to my dad, you're not talking to a chemo patient that feels great either. For the sake of argument though, just go with his answers and be encouraging. Believe me, Dad is more concerned about you than he is about his own health.

His treatments are getting worse though. I don't mean that the injections or the chemotherapy has changed or morphed into a more terrible poison (is that even possible?). I just mean that the way it effects him has changed. He tires very easily and just doesn't "bounce back" from each treatment as quickly as he did initially. The doctors warned us that this would happen, but it is not very fun to watch. Here's where my gratitude comes in...bet you thought I wouldn't get around to that referral in the title, huh?

I am grateful for the people who read this blog and pray for my Dad because they are helping to carry us through. I am not saying a mere "thank you" here, because it's more than that...it's serious gratitude for the people who care. There are people praying for Dad that have been friends with my parents longer than I have been alive. There are people who learned about blogging, simply so they could read this blog and stay connected with our cancer fight. There are people praying for him that have watched me grow up, and even kept me in line when the occasion called for it (It rarely happened, but we all get froggy every now and then, ok?) There are people who know only one member of our family, and they still pray. There are people who are my dearest friends, my church friends, my casual acquaintances...they all pray. The people I taught/teach with, the ones who know my Dad through school, church, or birthday parties, and even the people you think you're no longer friends with will all pray. What does that tell you?

It tells you that God is good. He has blessed our lives with amazing people. Thank you for being our prayer warriors, our sources of encouragement, our meals brought, our hugs given, and our shoulders to cry on. Thank you all for being our friends.