Celebrations

It feels like a celebration today! Dale is home and we think the final chemotherapy is now completed. Yippee. He has energy, feeling positive, and just glad to be out of the hospital. They are pretty nice, however, there is no place like home. We are relaxing, watching the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree, and enjoying a bit of "regular" night together. Sure, there are lots of medications, blood labs, and one day at a time, but it feels like a milestone for a celebration. Dale is hoping that his hair will begin to grow back, he can keep his weight down, and that his intellectual level rises. Good luck on each one of those hopes! I hope the cancer stays away.

Two pints of blood

I am so confused with Dale's blood levels. He had to wait two extra days before beginning the next round of chemo due to high blood levels. Today, he received two pints of blood because of low blood levels. Chemo is completed for this round, however, blood chemo level must be 0.05 before he can come home. I think he told me it was at 0.5 or 0.7, therefore, he has to drop several points before being released. How does he do that?

Dale was tired when I arrived with one pint of blood finishing up and by the time I left, he was more coherent and feeling better as the second pint began dripping into him. Each new pint of blood brings careful monitoring by the staff: vitals are taken each 15 minutes ensuring stability and watching for blood transfusion reactions.  I still say he is a science project continuously collecting data, adjusting, administering treatment, collecting data, adjusting, administering treatment, and so on and so on.

Research is important, and his data will be collected and added to the whole for the betterment of cancer treatment. Perhaps my research will be important somewhere to someone--once I get it going again. Fifteen minutes here, 1/2 hour there, makes for slow progress. But progress, indeed.

Immunization shots

Dale had a day of mostly rest. My visit to him interrupted his napping times or I was boring him with my daily reports because he kept falling asleep amidst my grand and exuberant storytelling of the day. Today I felt the burdens of cancer slightly lightened. Perhaps because this may be the final chemotherapy cycle. Each doctor is talking positively about Dale's progress. Appointments for bone marrow biopsy, colonoscopy, and PT scans are in the next couple of weeks to determine progress and when the next phase (bone marrow transplant) begins. We did not think this would happen until March or April, so this is very good information. However, not to get all excited yet, I will wait for the results of tests for higher levels of excitement. I will, though, relish in the possibility of less time in chemotherapy for Dale. If you know of, are, or knew of someone experiencing(ed) chemo, give them as much love, patience, hope, and comfort as you can muster together to do. It is a tough ride.

Once this whole treatment process is completed, Dale's immune system will be as it was 60 years ago--or in other words--he will have to get re-immunized for diseases like small pox, chicken pox, polio, whooping cough, measles, mumps, etc. I had not thought of that at all, but it makes sense. Kill the cancer that has killed the immune system, then rebuild the immune system. What will that be like? Reactions to immunizations for sure, but this should be better than getting the above diseases as an adult--I can only hope!

Dale's arm will be a pin-cushion from upcoming immunization shots

A friend and her daughters assisted me with house work the other day. Appreciation granted! We got it done in record time and it feels great.  It is better to clean when Dale is not around because of floating dust and breathing people (and company and direct help to me is nice).

Lots of hope

Dale is not feeling well today. Tired, weak, headache, swollen bloodshot eyes. Heart rate up,  two units of oxygen, and now nausea setting in. When I arrived Dale had a visitor, however, Dale said very little. That is an indication he feels lousy. He is usually cordial, complimentary, and friendly. He is maintaining the best he can. Hopefully, he will get a good night's sleep. Sleep always helps. Chemotherapy does not treat the recipient kindly.

I look forward to the day that we are greeted as Dale & Jan, not "how's Dale doing now?" I wrote another  blog about cancer consuming us, well, it does. There is more to us than cancer, it is just high on the consumption list at this time. For awhile, it was one moment at a time, now, it is now one 1/2 a day at a time, that means improvement.  We talk about what we will do after I also retire, and it sounds fun, so we had better get there--together! That means Dale is feeling he will make it through the cancer for a few more years.  There is hope. Lots of it.

Room 4514 & 3B

Dale's next round has begun. His voice indicated it was time to be there. As we walked into his room, nurses, physicians, and CNAs greeted him heartily with great cheer: "Dale! So good to see you!" One called him "Trouble" although said so with a smile as she told him she was her nurse for the day. He makes it as best he can while being cared for. That makes the experience go smoother. We both feel better about the treatments now the infection is gone. What a battle that was! He is scheduled for a few follow-up appointments to check out how the treatment is going and to determine how many more chemotherapy rounds and when to begin the bone marrow transplant process. It may be quicker than we thought! Yahoo!

Anxious to get going

Dale loves this side of the building

Gratitude

Thanksgiving Day brings a nation to memories, hope, and gratitude towards others. Take this day to reflect on gratitude, even if it is tough to do so.

• I am grateful that Dale is doing well enough that his physician delayed the next phase of chemotherapy until perhaps tomorrow
• I am grateful that his blood levels are high for a mantle cell patient, therefore the doctor felt it best to let blood levels drop further before chemotherapy knocks them down again
• I am grateful for flexibility, patience, and endurance
• I am grateful that I have a few extra hours today to work on my proposal due to change in Dale's schedule (travel and time at Huntsman Hospital), and delay of family dinner a few hours past original time
• I am grateful that I have no cooking assignments for said dinner with family (they are all much better chefs than I)
• I am grateful for the many friends, neighbors, co-workers, and family keeping us in their thoughts and prayers
• I am grateful to all who continuously want to give of their time and energy to serve us in any way the can
• I am grateful for gratitude; if gives one opportunity to put things into perspective and be glad

Smile

I listen to classical music 99% of the time when I listen to music. Friends make fun of me. There is a radio station advertisement on now that says something like "people think they have to have a PhD to understand classical music..." maybe so! As I listen, I create my own feelings, words if I want, and enjoy the harmony, richness, and depth of tunes played. Many instruments work in perfection and shape the melodies of a symphony that I find enjoyable and relaxing. What is there to make fun of? A few days ago on one of my trips to Huntsman center alone in my car, I enjoyed such music, but this time it included a discussion with a violinist and her newest CD. The title song, although not a classical orchestra tune Smile brought many good thoughts to me in my processing of another Huntsman trip. The tenderness of the lone violin playing Smile was gorgeous! I felt the words ring through me from childhood memories of Nat King Cole's singing.


Smile though your heart is aching 
Smile even though it's breaking 
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by 
If you smile through your fear and sorrow 
Smile and maybe tomorrow 
You'll see the sun come shining through for you 

Light up your face with gladness 
Hide every trace of sadness 
Although a tear may be ever so near 
That's the time you must keep on trying 
Smile, what's the use of crying? 
You'll find that life is still worthwhile 
If you just smile 

That's the time you must keep on trying 
Smile, what's the use of crying? 
You'll find that life is still worthwhile 
If you just smile


I needed that song in my processing moments and although it happened a few days ago, I feel it is appropriate to address. Smiles work. I need to do more. I actually giggled heartily today, felt good. There are many smile-worthy actions around me. Sometimes I forget to notice because I "wallow in my own sorrows."  Just smile. 


And by the way, Dale is doing just fine. One more day until 3B chemo. He is weak, but manages to spend his time talking to friends on his phone and making plans for the future. Good job, Dale!