After a bit of delay, waiting for my platelet count to be sufficient for clotting and for Northwestern to de-clot their booking…again, I’m back in the hospital for treatment two. Must have had some honeymooners in from Iowa. Thankfully, the delay wasn’t a problem, because I received a tip to call ahead. I’m very thankful for tip givers.
My counts bounced back well enough to get me here for round two in sixteen days. I guess the average is nineteen. I’ll take credit for that. Must have been my incredible diet. Or perhaps it was my ability to keep stress at bay—even with a visit from my parents. If anything, I received an emotional boost from the visit of my parents, to go with the physical boost I received for my WBC from a shot of Neulasta. I receive a shot of said drug in my tummy the day treatment is over. Seems like I’m here every other day for one reason or another. I know way too many names…
So that’s it. I’m here. And bracing.
Feel free to stop by tonight or tomorrow. No visiting hours on the cancer floor. Just give me or Aura a shout. I’m on the 16th floor of Northwestern’s Prentice Women’s Hospital at 250 E Superior.
Let’s name the demon. Or tormentor. Or enemy combatant. Or lymphatic terrorist. Pick your preferred, overly dramatic military or spiritual metaphor, gird your loins, man your battle stations and join me. It’s biopsy time!
Tomorrow morning, at 0630, I will take Interventional Radiology at Northwestern University by storm. Apparently, I will be handling logistics—read filling out medical history they already have on file on the lower concourse, 8th floor and 21st floor—for an hour and a half. My appointment isn’t until 0800. Not sure what their tactical strategy is with that one. It blows my mind how terrible medical institutions are at taking our medical records online. Even the best institutions have dial-up era technology. So like a 20-year-old version of myself with a free Net Zero connection, I will struggle through the morning.
The operation should take about an hour to complete, and I will be resting at the hospital for an additional hour. So I guess that means I’ll be back in my foxhole by around 1400. It’s weird math, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.
This past weekend has been tough. I have been mostly stable since Thursday night. I’ve done my best to relax, but I’m not sure how to take my mind off of something I feel it should be on. I want to thank the many wonderful friends and family members who have taken the time to write thoughtful messages of encouragement, and those that have just thought out messages of encouragement. I need it all.
I should be receiving the results in 48–72 hours.
Let’s biopsy.
Hello Friends and Family,
I’m going to cut to the chase. Yesterday, my unexpectedly smooth journey with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma took a wrong turn. I received the results of my post-chemo PET Scan, and in spite of the fact that I received a negative PET two cycles into treatment, this PET shows new activity in my anterior mediastinum—the bulky mass of lymph nodes around my left lung that was the reason I was slated to receive radiation, and not chemotherapy alone. The new activity is most likely to be resistant Hodgkin’s (same kind or a mutated subtype), but it could be anything—a demon I know or a stranger, but definitely a demon. Said demon will be needle biopsied within the next week for a name.
Saying that I’m pissed, doesn’t quite capture it. It’s a punch to the throat. My prognosis is still most likely good, but for the moment that is quite beside the point. I had no idea this was even a possibility. Lately, Aura and I have been enjoying the planning of a cancer free 2012, but life seems to have a way of sticking it to the overly confident.
In talking with my oncologist, we did not review all of the possibilities beyond Hodgkin’s. However, we did go over the treatment protocol if it is Hodgkin’s. The best news is that the new activity is very localized—I believe in the lymphatic system around my left lung. If I stay at Northwestern, which I am very, very likely to do, I will be receiving three rounds of ICE Chemotherapy, followed by radiation, followed by stem cell transplant. ICE isn’t necessarily harder to deal with than the ABVD I have already handled, but Stem Cell will be a challenge. I really don’t know the details, but I know that I would be taking a bed at the hospital for a little over two weeks.
So yeah, it’s time to learn how to knit. And it’s time to regain my balance—maybe after the weekend. I will, of course…my expectations will be high.
