Many Happy Returns?

Just a quick one, owing to the fact that I'm completely pooped. But not for any particular reason, as the day’s medical stuff went well. Granted, that’s with air quotes around “well,” but you get the idea.

Kathy’s blood numbers were very good - her platelet count has tripled in a week, which is great. Other numbers are moving in the right direction.

So this more or less spells success for the “induction” phase of leukemia treatment when they throw everything at a patient to keep them (mostly) alive. Next will be the “consolidation” phase, in which they try to clean up any straggler cancer cells in her body. 

The process will continue to be challenging: she’ll check into the hospital a week from now and be given chemo for 3 days instead of the 5 days she got last time. Then, rather than spend 3 weeks in the hospital trying to recover, she’ll be sent HOME and try to recover while I monitor her vitals and generally have a panic-stricken look on my face. Twice a week, I’ll also take her to the hospital for blood tests which will tell us if she needs a blood transfusion, platelets, or other treatment she can't get at home (in other words, anything other than an ice bag). And every 4-6 weeks, we’ll repeat the whole cycle - over and over - until such time as we may be eligible for a stem cell transplant, which is not a non-risky procedure. 

In the interim, her immune system is somewhat less than half of what it would normally be, and all of her vaccinations and natural immunities have been wiped clean. She'll need to start from scratch after that transplant, and in the meanwhile obsessive hygiene will be the rule in the Jarlsberg household.

We continue to take one step at a time and the path we’re on - however challenging - is the only path that can potentially lead to a good long-term outcome. So all in all, this was a good day and one I wanted to share with you.

And I also want to share that with Halloween right around the corner, Kathy dressed in black for her appointment today - including a t-shirt which created the illusion of her having a skeletal rib cage enclosing a hot pink heart. A bold choice to wear to a crowded oncology clinic, but that's one of many reasons that I love her.

Meanwhile On The Home Front

As landmarks go, being home from the hospital for a full week may not sound like much, but it's cause for celebration here in the Jarlsberg household. Because that's how long it's been since Kathy was discharged and put into the care of a very, very nervous guy.

Happily, things have been running pretty smoothly. As of today, Kathy has completely given up use of her walker for getting around, though still has to pace herself as she continues to rebuild muscle, energy, and blood cells. Her hair is thinning, but she's not worried about it - perhaps because I've made being bald look so good over the years. Or not.

The elephant in the room, of course, is figuring out just where we are in all of this and what comes next? Theoretically, we'll find out a bit more on Tuesday when there will be a fresh blood draw and analysis, followed by what will hopefully be an enlightening discussion with the experts.

In the meanwhile, I've recently taken receipt of every relevant publication from the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (available free, for which I'm greatly appreciative) and so have plenty of anxiety-producing and hope-inspiring reading material to work through. I'll note, though, that all of the many booklets are a bit on the dry side and could really benefit from a little humor...

If anyone from the LLS happens to be reading this, I'm ready to provide services free of charge! Or to write you a personal letter of apology!

Seriously, we're grateful for each normal-ish day and hope to enjoy many, many more. And we're also grateful for the support, insight, positive thoughts, and prayers we've been getting from family, friends, and YOU. They make a real difference, so please keep them up!

There's No Place Like Home, There's No Place Like Home...

You DO read Johnny Optimism, right...?

I'm delighted to say that Kathy has returned home! It turned out that all she needed to do was click her ruby IV bags together and, oh yeah, be put through weeks of Technicolor hell.

But after a month in the hospital being treated for Acute Myeloid Leukemia, she was allowed to come back home where, rather than being treated by a team of medical experts 24/7, she is being treated by a sleep-deprived idiot who may not be altogether sober after 5 o'clock.

The very idea of taking on this responsibility terrified me, because it's not like Kathy had suddenly achieved robust good health and a penchant for doing Olympic-level calisthenics. A point best illustrated by the following interactive experiment...

Right now, wherever you are, clench your butt cheeks together. Do it good and hard, like you're trying to crack a walnut in there. Hold for a count of five.

Did you do it? Surprise - you just killed yourself!

At least, that was Kathy's situation three days before her release. Her platelets (which clot blood) were so low that she wasn't even allowed to do the few exercises in bed which she'd previously been assigned. Including clenching her butt for five seconds - because it could cause her to bleed to death.

Since that time, she's received multiple bags of blood and platelets (thanks, nameless blood donors!) and so should be fine until her next doctor appointment in a week. And at that visit we'll hopefully learn where we are and what comes next. The greatest likelihood is a repeating cycle of in-patient chemo for a few days, followed by several weeks off.

Or not. Of the many things leukemia is, "predictable" is not one of them.

But Kathy is home and coping well with the indignities of using a walker and (at night) a bedside commode. It's my job to clean the thundermug, but it turns out to be less offensive than watching the news, so I'm doing fine.

We literally don't know what tomorrow will bring so we're appreciative of days like today which were relatively normal. Well, our new normal.

And as always, I'm at a loss for words for how much your ongoing support, comments, good wishes and prayers mean to us. Whatever you've been doing, you have my very sincere thanks - and please, keep it up!