Day By Day

Yes, that's the Southpark version of the Jarlsberg family

I'm overdue in sharing an update, mostly because of my new habit of falling into a coma about an hour after coming home from the hospital every day.  So I've given myself seven minutes (really) to write what I can.

Progress continues in the right direction, which isn't necessarily the same as an easy direction. Kathy completed her first week of chemo, then a week of recovery (trust me, it's no spa vacation - it's still pretty bad), then on Monday had an all-important bone marrow biopsy to measure progress.

Taking a bone marrow sample is insanely painful, which is why they sedate the patient whenever possible. When you're in the hospital recovering from chemo and leukemia, that sedation isn't possible. Instead, you're told to take two deep breaths immediately before experiencing pain that makes you see colors with no names. Kathy came through this quite well (albeit understandably shaken for a while) but is in no hurry to repeat the process.

The results will likely be ready on Thursday, Oct 7. In a perfect world, we'll be told that she's in remission and can start a new drug regimen to start rebuilding her bone marrow and immune system. In a slightly less perfect world, her system won't be ready for the drug "jump start" of things, and she'll need to add another week or so to her expected stay so that her systems can do some recovering on their own. And the third possibility is that we've made progress...but not enough yet, and will have to start a new round of differently-targeted chemo.

Waiting for those results isn't easy; Kathy has been fighting fevers for the past few days. Which really isn't what you want when your immune system is in the dumper. But she's getting IV antibiotics and medicines galore, and she's being well looked after. Although she was inflicted with a too-nervous husband today who added an unneeded note of panic to the medical goings-on. Just doing my job, folks.

To help make sure that I'm not personally a disease vector, Wednesday afternoon I'm visiting a drive-thru Covid testing place to see if they can touch the back of my skull (from the inside) with a Q-tip. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I'm sure not going to complain about it to a brave woman who just had bone marrow sucked out of her with a massive syringe.

The ongoing support we've gotten from all of you means more than I can say - especially now that I've more than filled that 7 minutes I was going to devote to this update. But please know it all counts.

Since Thursday is likely going to be important, I ask that if you're so inclined you double-down on your good wishes, positive thoughts, and prayers for Kathy's test results. And I thank you from the bottom of my exhausted heart.    -Stilton

What's Update

 Hello everyone,

This will be a short one as I’m beyond exhausted. Happily, the medical news (Thursday night as I write this) is pretty good - Kathy’s various indicators are all indicating what they’re supposed to, although she has some detectable bacteria in her blood (not what you want with no immune system) and so she’s being pumped with a lot of antibiotics to prevent any infections. She has no fever, which is a good and important sign.

Her energy was a bit less today, and her mood a bit down - both attributable to the long hospital stay, the constant interruptions, the inability to sleep, and more. She isn’t really hungry but has continued eating, and she has none of the chemo side effects one might expect like nausea, vomiting, or hair loss. So all of THAT goes on our gratitude list for today.

Upbeat letters and anecdotes about pretty much anything can help provide a good distraction for Kathy, as I’m running desperately low on conversational fodder. She’s really not into movies, books, or other such distractions right now, and the idea of Alexa-assisted karaoke even seems dumb to ME now, and that's saying something.

And on that note, I have some chores to do before an early (I hope) bedtime - then back to the hospital tomorrow to hopefully find Kathy having a better day.

As always, your prayers and good wishes mean a lot to all of us!

-Stilton

Let Me Sleep Into Something More Comfortable

My good friends- This is just an update on the ongoing health situation with my beloved wife, Kathy. She's doing well, and has already completed her first week of chemo without any major bad side effects. Which isn't to say that it was fun, but she still has a full head of hair and a nearly intact sense of humor. She also has virtually no white blood cells, which is both exactly what we want and, oh yeah, terrifying.

This is a "rest week" to let her body recover from the inital chemo beating, then early next week she'll get another bone marrow test to see where we go from here. Also today, I was given a big notebook with information about bone marrow transplants, but I'll be damned if I'm reading it tonight. I'm exhausted and am targeting 9 pm as my bedtime. Way early for me usually, but a tough goal to reach tonight. 

So as not to exaggerate things, I actually only get to spend about 6 hours with Mrs. J in the hospital, and another two (or hopefully less) cursing at other drivers here in Texas. The time I'm physically with her is pretty much the only time of day that I'm not sick to my stomach from worry. Her comforting presence also brings my blood pressure and heart rate down to levels which my cardiologist considers survivable, after a brief dalliance with an EKG and a new prescription .

And it turns out that I really, really don't like hospitals even though I'm insanely grateful that they exist and are doing everything they can for Kathy. It's all so surreal: odd machines, tubes, wires, dripping things, people invading the room at all hours, bags of fluids to swell a body up, and other meds to make you pee like crazy to try to get rid of those same fluids. 

"Doctor's rounds" consist of a daily 3-minute visit from the doctor, and if he seems reasonably happy then we're happy. Well, happy-ish. We've adopted a day-by-day attitude which means we're focused only on what's happening right now, and not asking detailed questions about what's next. Although a few pleasant surprises would certainly be welcome about now.

Bottom line: "So far, so good" - so whatever you've been doing on our behalf, please keep doing it.

Meanwhile, I only hear jots and tittles of news here and there, and it sure sounds like the whole shooting match has gone completely to hell. Racist horses? No one caring about Hunter & Joe Biden's corruption? Generals calling Biden a liar for claiming that they unanimously told him to surrender to the Taliban and run like a scalded dog? Continuing confusion and misinformation about Covid ("The Best World-Altering Plague Your Tax Money Could Buy!"). An attempt to defund support for Israel's "Iron Dome" defense while spending trillions on every frigging wet dream the Progressive Marxist Lunatics can come up with? Entitlements for the upper middle class? A possible re-design of the American flag? And so much more.

Only a real asshole would steal powerful and addictive opioids from his wife during a health crisis, right? Right...? Well then, Clan MacGregor and I will just have to continue to fight the world on our own. But seriously, is it just my admittedly slapped-silly perspective or has everything hit the fan at once?

And that's all the steam I have at the moment. I'm going to stumble 6 feet to my trusty recliner and knock off for the night. Thank you so much for your friendship, your support, and your prayers. They all count and are all more appreciated than you can possibly know!

-Stilton