It's been a while since I updated this blog - it's been a very busy time. So here's the latest:
Steve's doing really pretty well. He's recovering really well from the surgery and his incision (ugly as sin at the start) is healed so well that you might not realize it was there. What is a much slower process, however, is the recovery of his muscles and his strength. He is regaining some of that and he's walking more upright and starting to do some daily exercises to strengthen his abdominal muscles and his legs.
As expected, his appetite is unpredictable. Even when he's hungry, he doesn't eat so much. He's not losing weight, but he's also not putting it on. Tammy brought over a ton of food this weekend - along with Steve's former boss, Steve Caldwell. We had a really nice visit and a great meatloaf!
This round of chemo is higher dose than what he had before and the effects are more pronounced. He's had nausea, which he didn't have before, and some vomiting. He also has bouts of very severe and painful abdominal cramping. When we went to chemo today the nurse practitioner prescribed some anti-spasmodics to help mitigate that.
Because the effects of the chemo are unpredictable, I am going with Steve each week as he gets his juice. We went together for his first appointment, but they ended up sending him for an ultrasound and pushing the chemo off to the next day. So for the first two weeks he went by himself. But more and more I realized that no one should go through this alone - even if it's just someone to sit by your side in the chemo "suite" while the poison that's going to save your life flows. As crowded as that place is, it seems one of the loneliest places in the world.
Today, I was sitting by his chair watching the other patients: The young woman who goes every day probably for about a four or five hour stint. She spends most of her time in the chair chattering on the cell phone with girlfriends and family. Or the elderly couple - he with cancer, she by his side - fixing blankets, gently adjusting pillows, reaching out with an ancient touch. Or the tough-guy sitting next to us ... knitting. Some read, some sleep, some just look around. Occasionally, there's some conversation but for the most part it is quiet, strangely peaceful. I will be there each time with Steve because this journey is not one to take alone. Even if I am only there to fetch a blanket or stretch out my hand.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Chemo: Round 2
A new course of chemo started on Thursday. It was supposed to be Wednesday, but when we met with the oncologist (Stephenson) he sent Steve to the hospital for an ultrasound of his leg to rule out that he might have a DVT (deep vein thrombosis). He's been having a lot of pain in his leg, which has concerned us. But fortunately there doesn't appear to be any clot.
Because that took the better part of the day on Wednesday, they pushed Steve's chemo day to Thursday.
Going to the oncologist is kind of like airline travel. You have a 9:30 appointment and they appear to take you on time but then you sit in the examination room for more than an hour waiting for the actual doctor to appear. It's like the flight being considered to be on time because they pushed away from the gate - and then sat for hours on the runway! But, always being prepared, I had a deck of cards with me. So Steve and I played several "shoes" of blackjack before the doc came in. Then he played two hands (losing). He's actually a pretty cool guy and we both feel very comfortable with him. But unfortunately it's a very busy practice. We never go to the cancer center that it is not teeming with people in the waiting rooms, in the chemo suites, in radiation. It is always a depressing start to the day - at least for me.
The chemo suite is much like you've seen on TV - big lounge chairs for the patients, hard uncomfortable chairs for the care givers (there are some more comfortable ones but you've got to get there early to snag one). His first round of chemo was an infusion pump that he got hooked up with on Monday, wore all week and then turned in on Friday. This round is the traditional sit-in-the-chair-and-get-juiced. Some people get 4-5 hours of chemo and may go several times a week. Steve's treatments are two bags that take a little more than two hours to drip in... he also gets an additional drug that is injected during the treatment - Leukovin - that enhances the effectiveness of the 5-FU (that's the chemo drug name). The info they gave us on that also says it may heighten the side effects.
Side effect wise, the first and almost immediate impact was the return of "metal mouth". Apparently, almost all chemo patients experience this, which is when almost everything you eat or drink has a nasty metallic taste to it. This makes eating a less than enjoyable experience and, in Steve's case where he needs to put on some weight to be stronger to handle the treatments, it's a double challenge.
He's had one small bout of nausea and I'm hoping that it was unrelated to the chemo. Won't really know about that until we see if there's more of that to come. I pray not.
That's about it for now. More later this week.
Because that took the better part of the day on Wednesday, they pushed Steve's chemo day to Thursday.
Going to the oncologist is kind of like airline travel. You have a 9:30 appointment and they appear to take you on time but then you sit in the examination room for more than an hour waiting for the actual doctor to appear. It's like the flight being considered to be on time because they pushed away from the gate - and then sat for hours on the runway! But, always being prepared, I had a deck of cards with me. So Steve and I played several "shoes" of blackjack before the doc came in. Then he played two hands (losing). He's actually a pretty cool guy and we both feel very comfortable with him. But unfortunately it's a very busy practice. We never go to the cancer center that it is not teeming with people in the waiting rooms, in the chemo suites, in radiation. It is always a depressing start to the day - at least for me.
The chemo suite is much like you've seen on TV - big lounge chairs for the patients, hard uncomfortable chairs for the care givers (there are some more comfortable ones but you've got to get there early to snag one). His first round of chemo was an infusion pump that he got hooked up with on Monday, wore all week and then turned in on Friday. This round is the traditional sit-in-the-chair-and-get-juiced. Some people get 4-5 hours of chemo and may go several times a week. Steve's treatments are two bags that take a little more than two hours to drip in... he also gets an additional drug that is injected during the treatment - Leukovin - that enhances the effectiveness of the 5-FU (that's the chemo drug name). The info they gave us on that also says it may heighten the side effects.
Side effect wise, the first and almost immediate impact was the return of "metal mouth". Apparently, almost all chemo patients experience this, which is when almost everything you eat or drink has a nasty metallic taste to it. This makes eating a less than enjoyable experience and, in Steve's case where he needs to put on some weight to be stronger to handle the treatments, it's a double challenge.
He's had one small bout of nausea and I'm hoping that it was unrelated to the chemo. Won't really know about that until we see if there's more of that to come. I pray not.
That's about it for now. More later this week.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Medical Update
We saw the surgeon for a follow up on Friday and all the news was good. Dr. Trocha removed the stitches in Steve's backside, which has alleviated a lot of the pressure he'd been feeling. That's making it a lot easier to sit. It was, however, pretty painful for Steve - especially that last stitch that was pretty deep and took several efforts (and a second set of bigger snippers!) to accomplish.
The remaining steri strips were removed and we got a good look at the incision. I was shocked! Shocked at how good it looked. Honestly, it has healed beautifully and after only four weeks, you can barely see it. Amazing.
We've both had trouble sleeping lately, so Dr. Trocha gave us a prescription - both of us - for meds, which are helping. You can't underestimate the value of a good night's sleep - or the negative effect of not getting one.
Steve got the OK to drive and to do more exercising, incuding some more lifting. Exercise is going to be critical to him putting on some weight. As you see in this photo - taken Saturday - he's a little thin. He's down to about 132 lbs and even though he's eating fairly well, his metabolism is so high that he just can't put on any weight. The only thing that's going to bulk him up is muscle mass. Fortunately - again - it's always been easy for him to buff up once he commits to it.
A new round of chemo begins on Wednesday. I'll update the blog Wednesday night with info on how that goes. I hope it will not be too tough on him. He's been through so much already.
This is one more step down the last leg of our journey. It is amazing to me the impact cancer has on your life. Since his diagnosis, it has become the single, central gear around which our lives revolved. It's almost as if weverything else in our lives stopped and only the cancer moved -- first advancing, then retreating, but always there. It has seemed at times that this has gone on for years. And at other times, I am amazed how quickly time has flown.
Nonetheless, I will be happy to see 2007 slip away. With it will go the cancer, the surgeries, the weakness, the sleeplessness and the fear. Life will be changed, but life will go on. That is something to be very thankful for -- whatever the road we had to travel to get here.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Steps down the road
The past week has been pretty uneventful, but under the circumstances, I think that's a good thing. Steve's backside is a lot better, which means he's been able to sit up a lot more. That really helps his overall attitude; lying down all day and unable to do anything but watch TV was making him feel really miserable.
He's feeling well enough to be really bored, now. There's not much he can do -- short walks are good for him and last week a physical therapist came to the house and gave him an exercise routine to help strengthen his abdominal and leg muscles.
A couple of days a week, Gerry and Kevin come over and they play cards and kill a few hours. That's been a huge boost for Steve and something he looks forward to.
We have an appointment with an endocronologist tomorrow and see the surgeon on Friday. Steve should get the stitches out of his butt then and an evaluation of his recovery. He might get the OK to drive, which would at least give him some mobility. I will update the blog with news from that appointment.
The weather here has been beautiful and we are both missing Sunday's on the golf course. The other day, Steve told me I should go ahead and play golf without him. "I couldn't do that," I protested. "It wouldn't be right to run out on you and go play golf while you were stuck here." Besides, I said, you wouldn't do that if the situation was reversed. "Honestly," he said, "I might."
He's feeling well enough to be really bored, now. There's not much he can do -- short walks are good for him and last week a physical therapist came to the house and gave him an exercise routine to help strengthen his abdominal and leg muscles.
A couple of days a week, Gerry and Kevin come over and they play cards and kill a few hours. That's been a huge boost for Steve and something he looks forward to.
We have an appointment with an endocronologist tomorrow and see the surgeon on Friday. Steve should get the stitches out of his butt then and an evaluation of his recovery. He might get the OK to drive, which would at least give him some mobility. I will update the blog with news from that appointment.
The weather here has been beautiful and we are both missing Sunday's on the golf course. The other day, Steve told me I should go ahead and play golf without him. "I couldn't do that," I protested. "It wouldn't be right to run out on you and go play golf while you were stuck here." Besides, I said, you wouldn't do that if the situation was reversed. "Honestly," he said, "I might."
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