Day Two - The Doing

 

The only way out is through, apparently

In a very short time here, David and I have both come to the realization that saying and doing are two completely different entities. It's not that we didn't know this already, but the ah-ha moment was in the self-awareness of watching it happen in life right before our eyes. There's no looking away from this, as it's literally under our nose. Saying the words that we are going to move through cancer treatments vs actually going through the physical motions of cancer treatments is our newest transition. Talking is always easier than doing. That's why humans tend to not realize their dreams They talk about their dreams. It's easier to talk about our dreams, and that in itself can be fulfilling. Realizing our dreams....that's another story which does not include hitting the big red Easy button. 

This concept is in full motion for us right now. We are going from talking to doing. No, it's not a dream of ours to be here doing this, but nonetheless it's life unfolding. And the only way out is through it.

Don't look back, you're not going that way

Day Two's line up included: Labs, Radiation, then Chemo. Getting labs at MDA is like being in the drive thru at Chick-fi-la. It's a symphony of people working in unison in an effort to provide a service, all while minimizing wait time. Genius - and particularly in heath care, much appreciated. 

David had his labs drawn and results are provided not long after that. Once again, this process could be a musical titled, 'The Wizard of MDA' or "Little Shop of Labs' or 'My Fair Cancer'. Okay, I'll stop. 

David's kidney lab value's will be watched as his body begins to process toxins intentionally dripped into his veins. Liver enzymes monitored. Hemoglobin and hematocrit observed for anemia, among other values that will be tracked over time. His chemo will be held if his ANC is less than 1.5, or his platelets are less than 150 or his hemoglobin less than 9. If his creatinine increases by .05 over baseline, it's a yellow flag or if it's greater than 2 the flag goes up again for an alert. Labs will be collected before each chemo day, but not as closely watched for his radiation. 

Another important lab value for David is his blood sugar. Since he's diabetic this will be a challenge. Stress, diet changes, and eating of ones feelings (usually sugar) all contribute to an increased glucose level. I know David probably feels like a 7 year old boy arriving home with his report card when he walks through the door with his lab results. I'm at the door with my arm and hand extended, glasses on the end of my nose ready to inspect. I never said marrying a nurse would be easy, but it's times like these he'd rather sneak in and throw his report card, I mean, labs results in the trash. 

Since his glucose level came back at high, we knew we needed to take action early on. Yes, he had a pop tart for breakfast and as a diabetic, that's okay only here and there. But right now is the time to cut sugars, decrease stress as much as possible and gear towards healthy eating. I'm thinking once he can't taste/smell (pretty soon we are told) I'll be able to tempt him with foods that he ordinarily might not prefer. A girl can hope.

Every.Single.Day

Labs completed and David is heading to his home away from home away from home the Radiation Dept. This time, he knows what's coming. He heads to his cubby, just kidding, it's not kindergarten, but the process is similar. He pops his mouthguard in (I'm making it sound easy wink wink it's not), then the technician puts his mask on (watching his eyes) quickity quick. The symphony continues even in the radiation department with a technician on each side of him saying 'move up' 'more' 'that's good there' 'now find the spot on the ceiling' and so on and so on. They have no spare time, and will spend the majority of the time just setting up patients for the 15 minutes of radiation. All while David is staring straight up at the ceiling, gently of course, and trying not to choke on his spit with his mouth and tongue strictly positioned by hard plastic. 

The schedule for David, anyway, is radiation every day Monday through Friday unless it's a holiday. Holidays mean you get to skip that day, but have to make it up the following day with 2 radiation treatments - morning and then again in the afternoon. So a holiday is like a snow day in elementary school. It's great on the day of, but going back the next day just means more work. 

David is learning the tricks of the trade up there and it's only Day Two. There will be more to learn, but he's off to a good start. He said yesterday was like the first day going to junior high, and today was more like the first day of high school. You have more of your $hit together and care a little less about getting lost. He knows now to carry his Check-In Card which all patients use to scan at the kiosk upon entrance to the department, and it tells the nurses and technicians you are there and ready. 

He's also realizing what his forehead looks like as he makes his getaway from the mask and mouthpiece after his radiation treatment.

It's a combination of looking like SpiderMan and a honey baked ham all at the same time.   

Chemo Day

Each week, to add a little extra torture to it all, David has chemotherapy. Typically, it will be each Tuesday after his radiation. His labs are evaluated closely to see if he can have his chemo that day, and then he's off to his fancy-pants chemo infusion room. **A side note I wish to interject here is that when I've had treatments at Texas Oncology, the Infusion Room is nothing like at MDA. Rude.

David usually texts me during his time while at his appointments at MDA, and it's insightful to hear and see the flow of it all. It's also the only way family can support each other since only patients are allowed inside. It's our way of staying connected during the unknown of it all, and provide him support while he's there. 

His chemo of choice is Carboplatin. Well, not his choice, but someones choice and that someone is a very educated and well respected chemotherapy oncologist by the name of Dr Lu. After at least 5 passes at checking, double checking and triple checking the IV medications to be administered, IV in and ready to go, it's time to start the 3 course meal via IV. First course, Zofran 8 mg which today, he only gets 1 dose, This is his anti-emetic to keep the nausea at bay. Second course, Decadron 10 mg as the steroid used for inflammation. Thirdly, the main course of Carboplatin. Caution documentation tells us this is a hazardous drug and a vascular irritant. I think that's a given, don't you. They've named this 3 course meal Cycle 1. David will have Cycle 1 for awhile, until he moves to Cycle 2 around mid Feb. Not sure what the courses are for Cycle 2, but that's for another time. 

Back home jiggity jig 

With Day Two under his belt, David made his way home. As the evening went on, he begin noticing small changes creeping up. The congestion that they said would start accumulating in his nose, the crusting that develops in the nose, and a higher alert of his self-awareness with his body. We talked about our day, ordered food (to be delivered - thank you, Dr Waheed for that!) which we've never done since Pizza Hut in college. Then, we decided to watch the Pixar's movie, Soul. 

Have you seen Soul? So many relatable quotes from that movie, right? I loved the quote: "A spark isn't a soul's purpose". What? Did they read Eckhard Tolle's book, A New Earth? Didn't we just have this conversation in the last blog post that our roles are not our purpose. The irony gave me chills. And the quote in particular that made me laugh (there were many) was: "Can't crush a soul here, that's what life on earth is for" as 22 says that to Joe. Mic drop.

Here at the apartment, we have TV that has Disney, Hulu, HBO, real tv channels and so many others that I don't have room to list them all. This is a haven for David. It's going to be a wonderful place to recover all while watching just about anything your heart desires. I know it makes his heart happy. 

Date night 

So while David has his taste and smell, we are having a date night tomorrow night to celebrate life. Well, and celebrate his birthday early, too. On Jan 19th, David turns 63 year young. We will be going to Tiny Boxwoods (Thank you, Dr P and Danielle!) for a delicious 3 course meal that does not include having an IV. We will once again say a pray for peace, healing and patience. It's our 3 course prayer. God has a plan, and we need to be patient and listen. Silent, so we can hear what is being spoken in our hearts. Silent and listen. Different words using the same letters. Both of which take the greatest discipline to do. 

Vibrant love to you all,

Cyndi

P.S Shout out to Dr Pahlavan and Danielle for the treat to Tiny Boxwoods. I hope the nursery next door isn’t too loud 😉