The “C” Word – Day 88 2nd Oncology follow up

Today we saw Dr. Sheh again with CBC lab work prior to going upstairs for the appointment.  Three points to cover today include appetite, breathing and sleep issues.

Upon weigh in I note that George has lost 8 pounds since Friday.  He keeps attributing it to the Lasix which causes water loss, however 20 pounds lost in two weeks is more than just water at this point.  The doctor is a little concerned about the excessive weight loss. 

We talk to the doctor about the issues bothering George right now.  We take a look at the x-ray and, indeed, it shows some fluid around the lower portion of the right lung.  A thoracentesis will need to be done.

George describes the problem with his appetite (or lack thereof) and how the meds prescribed last week did not really help so we stopped taking them as of yesterday.  Between that, the weight loss and lack of energy, he prescribes a steroid to try out.

We talk about the problem sleeping and that we are trying a low dose (half a pill) of the Ativan that had been prescribed.  Because this drug is habit forming, the doctor prescribes Ambien in place of that. 

The lab results show high white blood cell count and George reminds him that he does not have a spleen anymore.  We realize that we will have to remind every doctor about this from now on because, even though they sort of remember the problem they forget!  The blood tests also show an extremely high platelet count so he has us re-do the labs before going home. 

All points covered that we need to address.  On the way out we start the process for the thoracentesis but it looks like it will not take place until at least Thursday because it requires authorization from our insurance and additional lab work and write up from the doctor office.  The additional lab work is added to the one we need to re-take on the way out. 

The doctor phoned George this afternoon and said that the repeated lab work still came out with high platelet counts. He says that this is sometimes indicative of a blood clot trying to form.  Normally he would say to take an aspirin or a half an aspirin every day but because we need to have the thoracentesis done we cannot do that just yet.  He says he will explore the issue further and call back. 

So we go to bed tonight with half of the problems being addressed via medication over the next twelve hours – but the worst one, the breathing, has to wait a bit longer.  At least the solution is on the horizon and we can hopefully see it coming. 

On hold is the fact that George’s sister has offered to spend a night at the house watching Grandma and George so that I can get away and go visit the grandkids in Roseville.  I haven’t mentioned it to George yet – nor have I committed to it just yet.  I have only told my daughter that it is a possibility.  I don’t know what the end of the week holds yet so I hesitate to commit.  I am afraid of being disappointed that the plans won’t go through because that has been the case for the past few months and the let-downs are hard to deal with.  Life in limbo – life on hold.  That has been the trend since August and it can become quite weary after a while.  While I keep telling George he had better improve enough to take me to dinner on my birthday, I am holding my breath because there is still the possibility that won’t happen.  I still hope – I still hope that the thoracentesis will take place and he will find relief to breathe again – and I still hope that the new meds start working and that he also wakes up one morning to find that his sense of taste comes back. 

Several other things on my mind this week as well.  Today would have been Mike’s 57^th birthday.  On Thursday my sister is having open heart surgery.  All reminders that life is precious and each moment is precious.  Somehow I need to focus on the positive things … that is sometimes hard to do when the tough stuff is staring into my face.  The tears come all too easily these days.

Why the tears?  I try to evaluate that.  I thought about that the other night while lying in bed.  I wonder why I cry when someone offers help…. Why I cry when I reach out for help (the cancer care organization) . . . why I cry for no apparent reason sometimes . . . I attribute some of that to the belief system I was raised in (Christian Science) and am reminded of the time when I had to have surgery when I was 30 and the emotions I went through at that time.  What it boiled down to was the fact I was raised to believe I was the perfect creation of God and there was nothing wrong with me . . . yet by having surgery and taking medicine I had somehow failed . . I was not ‘perfect’ – I was human, I was vulnerable.  In my parents eyes (and therefore reflected on to me) I had succumbed to those very things that I had been raised to stay away from. That was a tough time in my life, to know that I could not turn to my mother when I needed her the most.  I did not tell her about my surgery until days after I had been home.  I knew she would be disappointed in me.  Perhaps there are still some residual, subliminal feelings still there.  To admit that I need help is still hard for me.  Harder than I realize.  It shouldn’t be… but those lessons I learned are really hard to break away from.