Finally, Results!

I spent the entire day yesterday waiting for results from Thursday's bone marrow biopsy. I did see my oncologist briefly yesterday afteroon at which point all she could tell me was that the results were inconclusive until a "count" of the circulating blast cells had been done. As of about 1:30 yesterday afternoon, she anticipated that taking a couple of hours.


Well, around 2:00 this afternoon, I got the results. There are still 20% ciruclating blasts in my marrow. That percentage needs to be less that 5% to be considered in remission and to move to the consolodation phase of chemotherapy. So . . . we start all over with induction chemo.


First, I have to have a heart function xray to determine whether or not the first round of induction chemo did any heart damage. If it did, a different treatment regime will be used. If not, we will repeat the 24/7 of the ARA-C with Idirubicin included during the first three days.


Regardless, it means at least another three weeks in the hospital and the potential for lots more transfusions than I've needed thus far.

While this wasn't the news I had hoped for, it is what it is. So, we go again and this time, I'm not playing around!

Emergency Sirens on Drugs

Vicodin, oxycoden, demerol, tylenol with coedine . . . any of these words just make me fall immediately into a deep, drug-induced slumber. Combine demerol with a new drug designed to make a patient forget any unpleasant procedure, and I might not wake up for a week. That is unless the emergency warning sirens go off.



The scene: me laying peacefully in my cozy hospital bed in a drug induced stupor, hooked up by electrodes to a portable heart cart, oxgen cannula up my nose, oximeter clamp on one finger, blood pressure cuff around one elbow, and an IV line in a pic in the other elbow. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my semi-conciousness, I hear sirens. Thinking I'm dreaming, I decide to dream that I'm calling my daughter to see if the sirens are really going off. She confirms my dream . . . tornado 11 miles south moving toward Cheyenne.



Now, remember, I'm in the penthouse on the eighth floor, corner room, huge window on the east, identical huge window on the south. So, I'm thinking, "Wow, I'm going to have a great view of this tornado if I can just get out of this bed." While I'm sitting there debating about whether or not I can start unplugging myself from all of this equipment, a nurse rushes in and starts unhooking me, throws a mask on my face, and herds me out to the hallway with the rest of the patients. Of course, I can't stay out there with all of them because of my isolation status, so I get the priviledge of haning out in the nurses break room where I got to watch the breaking news reports on tv.

All in all, the excitement was a welcome diversion, but it sure did ruin a good nap.

Tests You Just Can't Study For

I never thought I would see the day that I would lose sleep from being excited about taking a test ---- especially one involving very long needles. Even though I now know what a bone marrow biopsy involves, I can't wait for my beautiful Brazilian oncologist to worm and work her needles into my hip bone. Because until we pass this hurdle, I won't know what the next few weeks will bring. The test is scheduled for this afternoon and I am supposed to know the results tomorrow.

But, let me tell you about my oncologist. She is absolutely gorgeous! She is tall, perfect figure, long black perfect hair, wonderful accent, and the one thing others in the profession say about her is she is smart. What I like best is her sense of fashion. The woman wears the most wonderful shoes! And they are always high heels or high wedges. Even the day she did my first bone marrow biopsy, she did it in 3 inch heels. Could there be anything NOT to trust when you have someone like this providing your care? I think not.

I guess I'll go look for my breakfast tray. They leave it outside the door and if I don't go get it, it sits out there until one of the CNAs decides to bring it in the room. Sort of makes me feel like a caged animal. Oh, that's right . . . I am a caged animal. Hopefully not for much longer.

Good Days, Bad Days

Overall, I think I am doing very well. Saturday was a rough day as an infection settled in and I started running a fever. IV antibiotics seem to be working to control it. Saturday was also my first episode of nausea. While that was short-lived, my appetite did leave me for a few days. I tried to escape from this 8th floor room to go look for it, but couldn't get my IV pole past the front desk.

My blood counts bottomed out yesterday, so last night I received my first blood transfusion and this morning I received platelets. For the first time in three days, I wasn't tempted once to curl up in a blanket and drift in and out of conciousness. In fact, I even called the office a couple of times, but there weren't any real crises, so I tried to focus on some WACO work.

For the next two days, my mission is to hang out, not spike a fever, eat as much of whatever food is put in front of me as possible and await Thursday's bone marrow biopsy. From what I've been told, the results of that will determine what will happen in the coming few weeks. I appreciate so very much everyone's prayers and positive thoughts as the end of the week approaches.

Fat Feet to Leukemia

So, how do you go from swollen feet and ankles to AML? You are very, very lucky. I have not had a regular physican for a number of years. In fact, I am the last to seek medical attention even for bronchitis, pneumonia, etc. But I had promised, so the following Thursday I picked up the phone and called a local family care office where both of my married children take their children.

A wonderful young Dr. listened to my complaints and patiently spoke to me about "elderly edema" and prescribed a diuretic and ordered routine bloodwork to get a base line on the potassiam. Twelve days later I had my first bone marrow biopsy --- one week after that, initial diagnosis --- four days later diagnoses confirmed in Denver ----- and three days later (6/14/07) admitted to the hospital.

A week has now passed and I am amazed. This morning I just finished a round of chemotherapy that ran 24/7 since check in. I have had no nausea, no pain, still have my hair (oh, yeah, still thin and ugly, but MINE). I feel a little tired from time to time, but I still feel like I could and should be at the office finishing up the budget, at home mowing the lawn, and helping care for my grandchildren.

For me things have been going better than expected, but not so for my youngest son. From 1000 miles away, I had to tell him about my illness over the phone. It tore me apart not to be able to put my arms around him and assure him things would be fne. Three days later his less than a year old laptop was stolen while he was at work using it! For a 20 year old that was like having your entire connection to the outside world taken away. But . . . it got worse for him.

Three days later some of his best friends from Cheyenne made it to Minneapolis at a time when he needed them most. The plan was that their band would play with some of the better local talent. They were all pumped only to be devasted a few hours before they were to play when they discovered their vehicle and all their instruments had been stolen.

Fortunately, their encounter had to be with some of Minneapolis's dumbest criminals who did not take the Wyoming plates off the vehicle, so it was recovered on Saturday. The instruments were not with the vehicle, but the thieves still were --- eating at a White Castle less than a dozen blocks from where they took the vehicle. The instruments have been recovered and now we await how to reunite them with my favorite muscial sons from Cheyenne.

Bad enough, so far? Well . . . not done yet! His friends took off to return to Cheyenne last Saturday and he was lonely, but I didn't think alone because I know he has friends there. The question in my mind was where were they this past Monday? Dylan parked his car too close to a fire hydrant and was towed to an impound lot several miles from his apartment. He tried to find someone to drive him to the lot or ride the bus with him to the lot, but noone could or would. I know he didn't want to dump on me, but I'm glad he did. He took a taxi and got the car back.

In two weeks his summer class will be done and he can come home for a few weeks. And I expect to have at least one backyard cook out with me doing the eating . . . 7 bags of chemo, and I still don't cook. There are just some things I hope don't change.

Strep Throat

On May 9th, I was to travel to Minneapolis with my oldest son, Jake, to move my youngest son, Dylan, from an apartment on his college campus (Minneapolis College of Art and Design) to an apartment closer to downtown.

The weekend before, I came down with a vicious case of burning throat which was bad enough to make me WANT to seek medical attention. So, on Monday I trotted myself down to the emergent care center and was diagnosed with strep throat. I ended up missing work on Monday and Teusday , but I made the plane on Wednesday and proceeded to spend the next three days packing, cleaning, and hauling belongings between a garden apartment and a second story apartment; and in my own eyes, at least, I never faultered.

I returned to Cheyenne on Mother's Day to join my husband's family for dinner at his sister Gwen's. Now , Gwen is one of God's best creations and has a medical background to boot, so when she and my mother-in-law, Wilma, noticed my swollen feet and legs and told me to get to a doctor, I did.

My next post will tell of how I went from fat feet to acute meyloid leukemia in under a month.

And so it began . . .

This is going to be my first attempt to put into words the happenings of the past couple of months and how I ended up as a guest of the largest regional medical center in the state of Wyoming.

From here on out, I hope this will provide a means for friends, family, and co-workers to get some regular updates on my progress.