I suppose if you wait long enough things do change. In our case, Phil's blood sugars came down, he was transfused with platelets and RBCs and we both got some much needed sleep. My migraine finally subsided and my hacking cough has settled down a bit. I hesitate to say that we both feel more like ourselves again. He certainly is looking more like himself than he has in about three weeks.
The first wave of the Cavalry (Tricia) left only to be reinforced by my sister Anita who drove down from Pasadena yesterday at rush hour - God bless her through and through. I arrived at the hospital to bring him home today to find him dozing off for a quick nap after breakfast. There's no hurry to get home other than the obvious desire to get outta here so I'm letting him catch some Zzzz's before the nurses come in and do their discharge song and dance. Then we'll be on our way home to rest up until Monday's appointment with Dr. Kossman for the next round of chemo.
Yep. The next round. It will be smaller than previously thought due to the infusion reaction and the chances of having another just like it. Phil does have the option of stopping the Campath and will have the weekend to consider this option. He know's it's his last best option for a chance at remission. He also knows there is the continued possibility of an infusion reaction with the next dose or two and the need for steroids should that happen. However, the literature suggests some people never have another reaction and that is what we are praying for. There is just no way of knowing.
His endocrinologist is concerned that there may be some other underlying metabolic issues at play with his blood sugar control. He did a cortisol suppression test to look at Phil's adrenal gland function while he was here in the hospital. Prior to the Campath and the high blood sugars Phil was having incredibly LOW blood sugars in the morning and I was having difficulty rousing him from sleep. His diabetes has been a very difficult disease to manage given the backdrop of lymphoma and the metabolic disturbances it creates. I do not know the outcome of the suppression test yet but know that Phil's clinical picture continues to be confusing and very challenging to manage. The road ahead narrows and his options lessen daily. Nothing is easy or clear cut anymore. I believe Monday will tell us a lot about the direction things will go from here.
Until then we will enjoy Phil feeling better and having energy. Olivia's 7th birthday will be celebrated with her friends at the bowling alley and we will praise God for the blessing and delight she is. There will be joy in our home, laughter and respite from the troubles of the last few weeks. We will enjoy this temporary peace. We will rest. We will be together. Blessed be His name!
Showing posts with label Team Conrad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Team Conrad. Show all posts
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The Results Are In
Our Wednesday morning came and went with little fanfare. It was a very quiet day around the oncology office. Sort of strange for midweek but peaceful and restful none the less. Phil had his second dose of chemotherapy and spent the morning dozing with the other patients in the "chemo-lounge", chilling in a wanna-be Lazy Boy with a crocheted blanket draped over his legs for comfort. The hours pass slowly so he usually reads or dinks around on my iPad, checking emails or looking at "bike porn" as I refer to his habit of looking at either motorcycles or bicycles on the web. Wednesday he mostly sat around awaiting for the results of his thorocentesis cytology to come back.
When Dr. Steven Kossman shared the results with him it was in hushed tones. There were lymphoma cells in the flow cytometry. Not a lot maybe, but they were there. This isn't the news we were hoping for but certainly what we knew was probable. It was disheartening to say the least. And confusing. We still don't entirely understand why Phil continues to get these effusions or know if they are an impediment to his BMT future. When I picked him up from his session, Phil was tired, slightly nauseated and bummed, but being Phil, he was trying to put his game face on. As soon as he got home he was on the phone to his contact at UCSD, calling to get answers about what this means for his situation with the BMT.
What he learned for now is that BMTs are best when patients are in full remission but they are performed for patients who are not in remission. We are still moving ahead with our process and have been asked to come in on Tuesday to meet with their social workers to discuss the whole process and learn more extensively about the demands on me, the care giver, the family, Phil himself, etc. The results from his brother's David and Jamie's HLA match testing should come in at the end and middle of this and next week, respectively. In the meantime, Dr. S. Kossman will confer with Dr. Ball on the next appropriate course of action regarding chemotherapy (if any changes need to be made) and Phil will follow up on Friday to continue with the last treatment.
Our seemingly forever process moves forward and the roller coaster keeps rolling. Stay on your knees.
When Dr. Steven Kossman shared the results with him it was in hushed tones. There were lymphoma cells in the flow cytometry. Not a lot maybe, but they were there. This isn't the news we were hoping for but certainly what we knew was probable. It was disheartening to say the least. And confusing. We still don't entirely understand why Phil continues to get these effusions or know if they are an impediment to his BMT future. When I picked him up from his session, Phil was tired, slightly nauseated and bummed, but being Phil, he was trying to put his game face on. As soon as he got home he was on the phone to his contact at UCSD, calling to get answers about what this means for his situation with the BMT.
What he learned for now is that BMTs are best when patients are in full remission but they are performed for patients who are not in remission. We are still moving ahead with our process and have been asked to come in on Tuesday to meet with their social workers to discuss the whole process and learn more extensively about the demands on me, the care giver, the family, Phil himself, etc. The results from his brother's David and Jamie's HLA match testing should come in at the end and middle of this and next week, respectively. In the meantime, Dr. S. Kossman will confer with Dr. Ball on the next appropriate course of action regarding chemotherapy (if any changes need to be made) and Phil will follow up on Friday to continue with the last treatment.
Our seemingly forever process moves forward and the roller coaster keeps rolling. Stay on your knees.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Again with the effusion?
We're back in the office again, seeing Dr. Steven Kossman this time around since his old man Charles is on photo safari in Botswana. (I just gotta say I totally dig Chuck's choice of vacation spot, by the way.) Anyway, Phil is due to start another round of chemotherapy today but he's been feeling really crappy this week. His energy has been poor and he continues to have left sided chest discomfort and a weak cough.
A chest xray was done last week which showed a small infiltrate (a haziness) in his left lung but NOT an effusion so he was started on an antibiotic to treat a possible infection. So here we are and he still feels fairly rough around the edges though he's had no fever or sweats, no chills or other signs of worsening infection. According to Phil, this deal in his chest feels just like the other two effusions he's had prior to this, one on his right side and one on his left side. As of about a month ago, his PET/CT scans and bone marrow biopsy were really good so we are a bit confused as to what might be causing this again, if indeed it is another effusion.
His blood counts and lung field exams today were mostly normal. There was some dullness on the left but not enough to stop him from receiving his treatment. The plan was to get the chemotherapy this morning then go over to the hospital for an ultrasound of the lung and tap it if it is an effusion. Otherwise, it's full steam ahead. Keep on beating on this sucker with chemo until it's fully gone.
Phil's ultrasound showed he definitely had a large left-sided pleural effusion. The radiology techs drained off more than 1 liter of fluid and Phil is much more comfortable. The fluid will be sent off again for all the usual studies, including ruling out further lymphoma involvement/advancement. It is a "paranoid" time per Phil. To be on the brink of the BMT and to have this spring up again is very frustrating and disheartening. Especially because it was the tap of his left lung that came back positive for recurrence before. Phil said today that he realizes this is a bit like a "wrestling match" and that no sooner does he get one thing pinned down then he's got another situation popping up somewhere else. There is always a new opponent it seems.
He is scheduled to fly to Atlanta late next week to spend time with his best friends and his hopeful prayer is that he is well enough to do that. Of course, wisdom and discernment about the best choice for his ultimate health is our ultimate prayer request. With the BMT option on the horizon, each decision from here on out bears very thoughtful scrutiny.
Phil is very physically tired from the successive and cumulative toll of 3 (and now a 4th round) of chemotherapy. He is run down emotionally and psychologically after more than a year of chemo/surgery and complications and now, from confronting the daunting list of things that will be required of him for the BMT. Your faithfulness, your cards, wall posts, emails and prayers are keeping us all afloat as we walk through this most difficult of journeys. We continue to rely on you more than you will adequately know. You, the unseen team we look to for strength and determination when we feel depleted. I personally have felt revitalized this week and covet the prayers said in my stead. Thanks Team~
A chest xray was done last week which showed a small infiltrate (a haziness) in his left lung but NOT an effusion so he was started on an antibiotic to treat a possible infection. So here we are and he still feels fairly rough around the edges though he's had no fever or sweats, no chills or other signs of worsening infection. According to Phil, this deal in his chest feels just like the other two effusions he's had prior to this, one on his right side and one on his left side. As of about a month ago, his PET/CT scans and bone marrow biopsy were really good so we are a bit confused as to what might be causing this again, if indeed it is another effusion.
His blood counts and lung field exams today were mostly normal. There was some dullness on the left but not enough to stop him from receiving his treatment. The plan was to get the chemotherapy this morning then go over to the hospital for an ultrasound of the lung and tap it if it is an effusion. Otherwise, it's full steam ahead. Keep on beating on this sucker with chemo until it's fully gone.
Phil's ultrasound showed he definitely had a large left-sided pleural effusion. The radiology techs drained off more than 1 liter of fluid and Phil is much more comfortable. The fluid will be sent off again for all the usual studies, including ruling out further lymphoma involvement/advancement. It is a "paranoid" time per Phil. To be on the brink of the BMT and to have this spring up again is very frustrating and disheartening. Especially because it was the tap of his left lung that came back positive for recurrence before. Phil said today that he realizes this is a bit like a "wrestling match" and that no sooner does he get one thing pinned down then he's got another situation popping up somewhere else. There is always a new opponent it seems.
He is scheduled to fly to Atlanta late next week to spend time with his best friends and his hopeful prayer is that he is well enough to do that. Of course, wisdom and discernment about the best choice for his ultimate health is our ultimate prayer request. With the BMT option on the horizon, each decision from here on out bears very thoughtful scrutiny.
Phil is very physically tired from the successive and cumulative toll of 3 (and now a 4th round) of chemotherapy. He is run down emotionally and psychologically after more than a year of chemo/surgery and complications and now, from confronting the daunting list of things that will be required of him for the BMT. Your faithfulness, your cards, wall posts, emails and prayers are keeping us all afloat as we walk through this most difficult of journeys. We continue to rely on you more than you will adequately know. You, the unseen team we look to for strength and determination when we feel depleted. I personally have felt revitalized this week and covet the prayers said in my stead. Thanks Team~
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Phil's Latest
While I was in WA, Phil finished a second round of chemo. His mother and brother David stayed with him and saw him through the down days. He had no complications, thank you Jesus, and managed to go on some sightseeing outings with his Mom toward the end of the cycle. He is scheduled to start a third round with the nelardapine this Wednesday/Friday/Monday.
Phil had a bone marrow biopsy yesterday and it was quite the painful experience. That is actually a good thing in his case. It suggests that he has nice hard bones and not diseased lymphoma growing in there. Dr. Kossman said as much and confirmed this when he was finished with the procedure - having had to take two, not one, core sample from Phil's pelvis. OUCH. OUCH. The final pathology results will take a few days to return but from the sample Dr. Kossman took the tissue looked fine and felt like cortical bone (synonymous with compact bone, it supports the whole body, protects the organs, stores and releases chemical elements such as calcium, etc). This is exactly what we wanted to hear!!
Today Phil will be having a PET/CT scan to re-stage his cancer. The PET scan images the biology of disorders at the molecular level while the CT scan provides a detailed picture of the body's internal anatomy. Together they give pinpoint information about the cancer's activity and guide decisions regarding treatment. We want to hear that all is clear and Phil is in remission again. He will complete this third round of chemo and then...
We'll be having a conference with Kossman on that soon. Everything has changed since he relapsed and with this new chemotherapy. Once we know where he stands with the new cancer staging we'll know what comes next, what to expect for the longer term picture. Stay tuned Team Conrad and thanks for being with us this far!
Phil had a bone marrow biopsy yesterday and it was quite the painful experience. That is actually a good thing in his case. It suggests that he has nice hard bones and not diseased lymphoma growing in there. Dr. Kossman said as much and confirmed this when he was finished with the procedure - having had to take two, not one, core sample from Phil's pelvis. OUCH. OUCH. The final pathology results will take a few days to return but from the sample Dr. Kossman took the tissue looked fine and felt like cortical bone (synonymous with compact bone, it supports the whole body, protects the organs, stores and releases chemical elements such as calcium, etc). This is exactly what we wanted to hear!!
Today Phil will be having a PET/CT scan to re-stage his cancer. The PET scan images the biology of disorders at the molecular level while the CT scan provides a detailed picture of the body's internal anatomy. Together they give pinpoint information about the cancer's activity and guide decisions regarding treatment. We want to hear that all is clear and Phil is in remission again. He will complete this third round of chemo and then...
We'll be having a conference with Kossman on that soon. Everything has changed since he relapsed and with this new chemotherapy. Once we know where he stands with the new cancer staging we'll know what comes next, what to expect for the longer term picture. Stay tuned Team Conrad and thanks for being with us this far!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
A Way to Live
We're at the end of a long week of chemotherapy now, having awoken bright and early every other morning to get to the hospital for morning rounds (7 a.m.) for the medication we're pinning our hopes on. At first I kinda liked this new way of doing chemotherapy. I falsely thought it would end up being a lot easier on me. Trick!!
On the face of it, it sounded pretty good- no more 4 day stays in the hospital for Phil with the horrible food, the long absences away from the kids, the long stints of my single parenting. I really don't know what the heck I was thinking. I mean, the man is doing chemotherapy still and is a hurting unit. And this business of getting up at o' dark thirty to be at the hospital by 7 a.m., driving there in morning traffic? I am a Lehmann for God's sake. We don't DO o' dark thirty, at least not well, and certainly not arrhythmically every other day for crying out loud. That is a one way ticket to a migraine or at least, major connective tissue pain. My sibs ~ Anita, Terry, Cherie, Peter and Stephen ~ can I get an Amen? You may not have to be a Lehmann to be shanked by this schedule but I can testify that it sucks big time. I do think it is better than having Phil inpatient for 4 days for sure, but on my end, it has been pretty ugly. Just ask my kids - they'll set you real straight. I haven't been the Mommy I want them to remember when they look back.
Perhaps it's the mild heat wave, perhaps it's that I'm still unpacking and trying to find a place for everything and I don't like the level of chaos around me. Perhaps it's that our house is a bit of a jalopy and keeps presenting me with opportunities to breathe deeply. Perhaps it's that Phil and I are coming up on our 16th wedding anniversary a mere week prior to the one year anniversary of his diagnosis and both feel so deeply depleted that celebrating isn't precisely on our radar. One things for dang sure, I am losing my ability to let things roll off my back. Nope, things have been piling right up.
And then, Saturday night a compassionate group of loving, generous friends and childhood neighbors, led by the amazing Kathi Taymans McShane, came together in Pittsburgh for an auction and raised nearly $10,000 on our behalf - because of Phil and who he is to them, who he was as a kid in Edgewood. Because of cancer and the scourge it is and the way it has touched and hurt many. Yet again, as I reflected on how sick and tired I was of being sick and tired, someone in the body of Christ came alongside to do what I could not. Kathi showed me when I could not see or recall it to mind that God is at work through His people, surrounding us with many shoulders to carry this burden - prayerfully and financially. Through people to love on my kids when I'm not Mommy of the year and friends who call or drop me a note to remind me I'm not living in isolation.
Phil is in the recovery phase of his chemotherapy now. Tired, tired, tired. And me? I am in crisis stage again, I just didn't recognize it for what it was until now. I am tired, tired, tired. I do not know what will happen for my husband or for my family. I'll hope to know more in about three weeks. Then there will be another decision tree and yet another path on this road. This really isn't any way to live. But hey, it really is.
On the face of it, it sounded pretty good- no more 4 day stays in the hospital for Phil with the horrible food, the long absences away from the kids, the long stints of my single parenting. I really don't know what the heck I was thinking. I mean, the man is doing chemotherapy still and is a hurting unit. And this business of getting up at o' dark thirty to be at the hospital by 7 a.m., driving there in morning traffic? I am a Lehmann for God's sake. We don't DO o' dark thirty, at least not well, and certainly not arrhythmically every other day for crying out loud. That is a one way ticket to a migraine or at least, major connective tissue pain. My sibs ~ Anita, Terry, Cherie, Peter and Stephen ~ can I get an Amen? You may not have to be a Lehmann to be shanked by this schedule but I can testify that it sucks big time. I do think it is better than having Phil inpatient for 4 days for sure, but on my end, it has been pretty ugly. Just ask my kids - they'll set you real straight. I haven't been the Mommy I want them to remember when they look back.
Perhaps it's the mild heat wave, perhaps it's that I'm still unpacking and trying to find a place for everything and I don't like the level of chaos around me. Perhaps it's that our house is a bit of a jalopy and keeps presenting me with opportunities to breathe deeply. Perhaps it's that Phil and I are coming up on our 16th wedding anniversary a mere week prior to the one year anniversary of his diagnosis and both feel so deeply depleted that celebrating isn't precisely on our radar. One things for dang sure, I am losing my ability to let things roll off my back. Nope, things have been piling right up.
And then, Saturday night a compassionate group of loving, generous friends and childhood neighbors, led by the amazing Kathi Taymans McShane, came together in Pittsburgh for an auction and raised nearly $10,000 on our behalf - because of Phil and who he is to them, who he was as a kid in Edgewood. Because of cancer and the scourge it is and the way it has touched and hurt many. Yet again, as I reflected on how sick and tired I was of being sick and tired, someone in the body of Christ came alongside to do what I could not. Kathi showed me when I could not see or recall it to mind that God is at work through His people, surrounding us with many shoulders to carry this burden - prayerfully and financially. Through people to love on my kids when I'm not Mommy of the year and friends who call or drop me a note to remind me I'm not living in isolation.
Phil is in the recovery phase of his chemotherapy now. Tired, tired, tired. And me? I am in crisis stage again, I just didn't recognize it for what it was until now. I am tired, tired, tired. I do not know what will happen for my husband or for my family. I'll hope to know more in about three weeks. Then there will be another decision tree and yet another path on this road. This really isn't any way to live. But hey, it really is.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Power of Prayer
My sister Terry is currently in Israel in conjunction with her work as a mammography technologist and educator working for the Department of Defense at Naval Medical Center here in San Diego. In addition to lecturing and educating the local professionals, she is sharing her travels with her son Josh, my nephew, whom you've heard plenty about and he is enjoying some well-deserved R and R.
As Terry said before she left, it feels weird for our families to be apart. They have been on the frontline during this siege from day one and have been there for every single episode in the saga. They are on speed dial, know where everything is in our house, know the kids routines for bedtime, and have our backs for everything and anything. There is nothing they haven't done for us or won't do. It's just an understanding and it is priceless.
Having said all that we are so happy for Josh's opportunity to go with Terry on this trip, to see the wider world and take a break from being amazing for awhile. For him to just be a 27 year old guy and live for himself a while. We'll be here when he gets back, believe me. And Terry, well, Mother Teresa she will always be. But for the next 10 days or so she can ponder the mysteries of the Holy Lands, refresh her soul, deepen her faith and capture the beauty of it all in her camera lens.
No matter what, they are ceaseless in their efforts on our behalf, and they continue their prayer efforts half way around the world. We are blessed to have them as family.
As Terry said before she left, it feels weird for our families to be apart. They have been on the frontline during this siege from day one and have been there for every single episode in the saga. They are on speed dial, know where everything is in our house, know the kids routines for bedtime, and have our backs for everything and anything. There is nothing they haven't done for us or won't do. It's just an understanding and it is priceless.
Having said all that we are so happy for Josh's opportunity to go with Terry on this trip, to see the wider world and take a break from being amazing for awhile. For him to just be a 27 year old guy and live for himself a while. We'll be here when he gets back, believe me. And Terry, well, Mother Teresa she will always be. But for the next 10 days or so she can ponder the mysteries of the Holy Lands, refresh her soul, deepen her faith and capture the beauty of it all in her camera lens.
No matter what, they are ceaseless in their efforts on our behalf, and they continue their prayer efforts half way around the world. We are blessed to have them as family.
Josh praying at Christ's Tomb
Candles at The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Recognizing Cancer
I've been spending time lately surfing the web, checking out other cancer and lymphoma blogs. I've found many, many excellent writers, be they family members, significant others, or most inspiring and enlightening to me, the cancer patients themselves. Wow. There are so many people writing about cancer. And yet these are just a few of the thousands with cancer who choose to blog about it. They are the minority - most folks are going through their treatment and staying out of the public eye so to speak. Despite the traditional and stereotypical effects of chemotherapy not everyone looses hair, looses weight or looks emaciated; we might walk right by them and not even know they have cancer. Besides, what does a typical cancer patient look like? There are some generalities yes, but believe me, everyone I've met and seen is different and our trip hasn't been at all to specifications.
One thing I've learned for sure is that I (we) never saw it coming. And by IT, I mean the end of our life as we knew it. It makes me wonder, will you see it when it comes your way or the way of someone you love? I'm not suggesting that Phil and I, more than anyone else, should have necessarily recognized cancer in the medical sense when it landed on our doorstep. (Heaven knows we worked this baby up as best we could before he was finally diagnosed). No, I'm talking recognize in the way our lives changed radically and forever in an instant kind of way. Will you recognize that your road is forking and there is no stopping it? See that you are turning in a new direction, are at a cusp, a crossroads, a zero hour where-after you and yours will never be the same. And know that how you handle it from there will make all the difference in the rest of your lives and the lives of those around you? And it is going to happen to some of you. Statistically, probably many of you. And I'm sorry.
For me, one gift in all of this load of crapola is sharing myself and my struggles, my insights and my aspirations ~ what I am learning through it all. Perhaps so that you will not be caught unaware. So you will not be (too) unprepared. Every journey is personal and not one is the same but there are similar Truths in the human experience. Everyone suffers, everyone bleeds and everyone requires a lot of grace, love and compassion along the way. I have the privilege of living in relationship with some pretty wonderful friends and family and between Facebook, letters and the blog I feel connected despite the miles and the separation. This has been an intense and lonely road for me. For all of us. But God has continued to show up and so have you. Thank you, each one, for reading along and for praying, for commenting and for seeing us through. For being with us in our zero hour and our new life.
"If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere."
Frank A. Clark
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Thank You Team Conrad
Today I think I might finally be feeling the fatigue. In my folly I saved writing this post until late and my brain is competing with the XBOX in the background for my attention to detail. Truth be told, I also just polished off a big dish of frozen yogurt with chocolate chips and am primed for a food coma to set in. Reader beware, just saying.
Seriously, any thoughts I had of skipping out of posting tonight were quickly extinguished when I saw how many new followers the blog has received since yesterday. The outpouring of emails, comments and FB posts has been more than amazing and there really aren't words for how loved and supported we feel. THAT is where my energy comes from tonight. From you, Team Conrad.
Many of you have written how much the blog has helped you. What started for me as a simple journal and a way to keep friends and family informed has become a source of tremendous energy and support for me as well. I love to write knowing that it is giving you information, hope,and inspiration and I feel renewed and connected to our team when I am finished. So, thanks for being there and for inspiring me.
As for todays news: The initial spinal tap was read as...NEGATIVE! Praise Jesus. We will hear the final results tomorrow but we are very excited. If the spinal tap is negative then Phil will only need the intrathecal chemo 3-4 more times and he will NOT need a reservoir (plug!) in his head. Hallelujah!! Finally some good news after a landslide of crap-o-la! Stay tuned for the final results.
Tomorrow brings the last 2 chemo agents for this cycle, vincristine and adriamycin. They are unknowns to us and we will learn what side effects they have to offer over the next 24 hours. We'll see how they work and hope for the best. After that, he's coming home to rest at "the big house" (subject of a future post) on Saturday.
Take heart Team Conrad, Phil's been kicking butt and taking names and is buoyed by your love love love.
Seriously, any thoughts I had of skipping out of posting tonight were quickly extinguished when I saw how many new followers the blog has received since yesterday. The outpouring of emails, comments and FB posts has been more than amazing and there really aren't words for how loved and supported we feel. THAT is where my energy comes from tonight. From you, Team Conrad.
Many of you have written how much the blog has helped you. What started for me as a simple journal and a way to keep friends and family informed has become a source of tremendous energy and support for me as well. I love to write knowing that it is giving you information, hope,and inspiration and I feel renewed and connected to our team when I am finished. So, thanks for being there and for inspiring me.
As for todays news: The initial spinal tap was read as...NEGATIVE! Praise Jesus. We will hear the final results tomorrow but we are very excited. If the spinal tap is negative then Phil will only need the intrathecal chemo 3-4 more times and he will NOT need a reservoir (plug!) in his head. Hallelujah!! Finally some good news after a landslide of crap-o-la! Stay tuned for the final results.
Tomorrow brings the last 2 chemo agents for this cycle, vincristine and adriamycin. They are unknowns to us and we will learn what side effects they have to offer over the next 24 hours. We'll see how they work and hope for the best. After that, he's coming home to rest at "the big house" (subject of a future post) on Saturday.
Take heart Team Conrad, Phil's been kicking butt and taking names and is buoyed by your love love love.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Hello Mr. Anderson
If the title of this blog eludes you, then you'll have to take it up with Phil. His sense of humor these days seems to revolve around many of his favorite movies. It has been good to hear him joking around again after so many days of both of us being Debbie Downers (sorry all you Debbie's out there!) For instance, in the midst of recounting the whirlwind of bad news he can often be heard quoting Bill Paxton from the original Aliens movie "this can't be happening man!"
Yesterday he had a port put into his chest to deliver his chemotherapy. Basically, the port is a catheter that is surgically implanted under the skin then tucked up under the rib and inserted into the superior vena cava so the medication can go directly into his circulation. When I dropped him off to the surgery center he said he was going to be "Matrix-ized". He will wear the port throughout his entire chemo regimen and let me tell ya - if it could teach Phil that cool martial arts stuff he'd do it!!
Prior to his surgery he had to be NPO which means nothing by mouth after 6 a.m. His procedure wasn't until 2:30 (and didn't actually happen until 3:15) and for a guy, let alone a diabetic, that is a long time to go without! When I joined him in the recovery room around 5:30 he was asking the nurses for margaritas and chips and asking when he could go dancing!! Classic Phil.
The recovery room nurses told me he'd charmed the surgical staff and he'd even had time to counsel a young volunteer on her career path. Even though the surgeon was running behind, his counseling session and the smoking and joking he was doing in pre-op made him so popular they didn't want to let him go. The feisty Latina nurse and he were flirting over the sexy tight white compression hose he gets to wear every time he has surgery too. So all things considered he could be doing much worse.
This is serious business, no doubt. But I don't want to paint a picture of utter despair and hopelessness here. Any of you who've seen Phil do a commando roll know he's got some surprise moves on him and the man has fought through some serious shit and won. This is Team Conrad we're talking about after all and the sun does rise again. We just needed a minute to catch our breath.
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