A Hurdle

August 6 2:23 pm

I’m waiting for Pat to return from UCI. All is well, in spite of some difficult, but fortunately not dangerous, days. To fill out the picture, let’s flash back to last Monday - 7 days after the last chemo session. Characteristically, this is one of the toughest days. That Monday was no exception. Only this time it was the culmination of progressively more debilitating 7^th days. Pat stayed in bed most of the day and was bothered by flue like symptoms. The days had all been marked by a sore mouth and the very limited diet that her mouth could tolerate. Most of her calories came from cottage cheese, sour cream, noodles and baked potatoes or some variant thereof. While Tuesday was marked by some abatement of symptoms, there was not much gas in the tank and Wednesday was much the same. We had arranged to go to a Jazz concert at the Laguna Beach Hotel and Pat husbanded her energy all day so as not to have to cancel the outing. During the day Pat called her doc re getting blood on Thursday. Blood testing at the beginning of the day would determine the appropriate course of action. She did make it to the concert, summoning as much willpower as strength to get her through the evening. In the cool of the evening Pat experienced a lot of tingling in her fingertips, one of the common chemo symptoms.

Thursday Morning proved a minor variant of the chemo day schedules. We were in for blood testing at 7:30 and then off to Starbucks for breakfast. This time we went there by car rather than walking for obvious reasons. When we got back the results were there – no question about what to do - her hemoglobin had dropped to under 7 - the nurse said that she was surprised that Pat could even stand. She was scheduled for 3 units of blood, 2 on Thursday and a third today. Because of the swelling that Pat had experienced with her prior transfusion, the blood was administered slowly – almost 4 hours per bag. Sitting there, reading, I observed the metamorphosis; expression returning to her face and strength to her voice. I had to help her into the hospital on my arm - she left in full stride, on her own 2 feet – declining my proffered arm. . On the way out we couldn’t help but think that we should have listened to the nurse who was pushing for Pat to get the blood when she was in for the chemo. This morning we were both completely comfortable with her driving to the hospital alone.

It’s now almost 5:00 pm. Pat has returned from the hospital, having she stopped at Costco to replenish the food supply that had all but disappeared when she didn’t have the mojo to shop. When she pulled into the garage she called to me to the stuff put away, and headed of to bed. I’m betting that we’re back to the careful parceling out of energy with frequent recovery sessions. The recovery sessions will become shorter and less frequent. On Monday I’ll pick up Lauren and the twins at the Long Beach airport. Now we’re ready. Bring them on.