Finishing the last bag in the first round - Tues March 10

Mike just finished this round of chemo bags. Tomorrow he will receive some blood product to help boost his system before the drugs plunge all his numbers. Going home Thursday!

Next week he will need to check in at the doctor's office Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. About that time, his immune system will be at its lowest, so we have to be careful.  No trips to pre-schools!

The weirdest thing about this adventure is how much his kidney function has improved.  Yes, it will take a hit, but right now he is normal "Stage 1" instead of stage 3 (out of 6).

Gratitude of the day: family, friends, and neighbors.  Thank you all.

The treatment plan

First, updates. Bone marrow sample did NOT show his large cell cancer, aka, it has not matastized to the bone. And Mike has been walking during treatment, two walks daily, a big circle on "5 North."

The big picture on his treatment is five days (or so) inpatient chemo, three weeks off, five days in, three weeks out.  Expecting six cycles, but subject to change if tests show it should change, or he becomes intolerant of one of the drugs.

More specifically Mike gets R-EPOC:
One bag of Rituxan, dripping in over four hours
Four bags of Etoposide/Doxorubicin//Oncovin, each of which drip in over 24 hours (yup, almost 100 hours of drip-drip-drip)
One bag of Cytoxan -- we don't know yet how long it runs.

There are certain periods where Mike's blood counts will be low, when we will have to be extra careful to avoid possible exposure to germs. 

Mike's diagnosis

Never in my wildest dreams did I think my little blog would become a medical blog.  But here we go again.

Mike's medical history includes Parkinson's and congestive heart failure (CHF).  He occasionally has fluid build up around his lungs, making him take short breaths and feeling like he's not getting enough air (even though his oxygen level is not in danger).

The evening of January 23 he asked me to take him to the emergency room.  Tests showed he is suddenly very anemic. For example, one of the measures is hemoglobin, where the normal range is about 12 to 17.  He had been at 12 for a long time, including a blood test just three months prior.  Now he was 9. 

Jan 29: Follow up with our doctor, Mike referred to special testing (scopes, fun). 
Feb 10: specialist consultation.
Feb 20: colonoscopy, endoscopy (with biopsy of stomach)
Feb 24: biopsy result, lymphoma 
Feb 26: CT scan; and we got a report his hemoglobin is down to 8.
March 4: oncology doctor consult 

[A blip in this story: I had been summoned to report for federal jury duty March 2. Ask me some other time how it went.]

Mike's daughter Dianne joined us for the oncology consult. The doctor rattled off pretty much this statement, "So you are Michael Ramsby.  You have diffuse large B-cell gastric lymphoma.  The good thing about large B cells is that they respond very rapidly to treatment. I am going to admit you and start chemotherapy tomorrow.  We still need to does some diagnostics, including echocardiogram and bone marrow aspiration, but we are going to start hydrating you in preparation for treatment. I have a girl looking for a room right now.  Any questions?"

Mik asked, "So I will be admitted tomorrow?"

No, honey, now.

The doctor left the room, and we were very quiet.  I felt like a dump truck had just come in. Dianne said she felt like she had been in a drive-by shooting.

Bill: the Finale

The Finale of 55 weeks

I will catch you up on the last couple of weeks and then say goodbye. Bill and Ayn have moved to California, he is back to work full time, so there really isn't any need to continue talking about the minutiae of their lives.

Bill had lots of final appointments, including two for leg brace adjustments. Unfortunately his OT canceled because she was sick. But he had two PT sessions, a nephrology/hypertension appointment, another Botox treatment, prescriptions refilled.

And a fun time was had by all at the Post Office for passport applications.  Man that takes a long time to get through.   The highlight for me was a bit of comic relief, where the woman ahead of us, surprised by a glitch, exclaimed, "Holy Toledo, Batman!"

Movers hauled out their belongings Sunday, July 27.  They stayed at a hotel across from their old place a couple of days so Ayn could finish cleaning. As I write, they are in a hotel in the Bay Area, and the movers will arrive within a couple of days.

Just in time for their second wedding anniversary next week.  So please join me in wishing them the best in the next chapter of their life together.

Bill, Friday July 18: from video to audio; and an amazing retro trip

Physical therapy was another change-up.  Bill has had a lot of visual cues given to him for biofeedback to improve walking.  There is the machine to show how he is balanced, to encourage shifting more weight to the left side.  In their apartment, we put green dots on the floor as stride targets. 

Today Jeff added an audio cue: a metronome app to hint at a "normal" stride. And it was on a treadmill. 

A stop for a leg brace adjustment, then...

An amazing trip to Marquis acute care, Bill and Ayn's home away from home last year, two and a half months.  The last time staff saw him, he was mostly being moved from bed to wheelchair with a lift, although he was just learning to use a slide board to go from one to the other.

We first came across nurse Tori and CNA Heidi.  Bill got up from the wheelchair on his own, took a few steps, and their jaws dropped.  Then smiles.

Next we went to the central area. Michele went to find Dr. Creitz for us ( I had called earlier to make sure she would be there).  With more people assembled, he again stood and walked quite a bit. The doctor stood with her hands clasped tightly, almost as in prayer, with her chin resting on the hands. She closely watched his feet.  CNA Jowanna noticed from the dining hall -- another jaw drop, and running over for a hug. 

I pointed out that Dr. Creitz seemed speechless. "I'm just ... Wow... Thrilled..."

She moved next to me and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.  I asked "Allergies?"  She answered, "No, no, happy."  She gave Bill a hug, "My you're tall!"  Then she asked about medications and exercise and therapy and blood tests for kidney function.  She remembered everything about him.  "Remember, no Sipro," as if we would ever forget. 

Claire, speech therapy, came by.  We sure wish she had been there during all of Bill's stay, but having a baby interrupts the work!

Such an emotional but rewarding visit. I thought it was good for everyone to see how much improvement can still be made when a patient leaves them.

Bill, July 11: Hip Hop and back to work

On July 9 (the day after the "strokeversary") Bill saw his rehab doctor and is released back to full time work in a couple of weeks!  Dr. Degen said, over and over, that every one at RIO is so pleased to hear his progress.  Doc is glad he can release Bill for work, because some people come in and he has to say no (or they are wanting to drive again).

On July 11, Bill had physical therapy.  Started with walking, then 'squat walks' at the parallel bars.  Looking for a new challenge, Jeff asked, "Can you hop?"  Ayn and I looked at each other, "He's kidding,right?"  But Bill gave it a go, and there was a Billy Hop!

What a big month. Back to work, and in three weeks they will have moved. We will miss them so very much between visits.

Bill, July 9, 2014: one year

Yesterday was one year.  I couldn't bring myself to post any comments.  Would it be celebratory?  Would I be too morose in the memories?  Would it be a non-emotional, just-the-facts update? 

On the facts: Bill is trying out a forearm crutch to use instead of a quad cane.  There are pluses and minuses, but overall it seems to help him walk more upright -- 'tho I'm not sure way, since the hand is at about the same height. Also, they had a great two-day trip to Central Oregon to visit a friend for July 4, and the Steely Dan concert there.

As far as emotions or memories, I decided to go back and look at some of my early posts.  Oh my gosh, how did ya'll put up with my short, terse posts?  It looks like I was just barfing up a few words.  My struggle was with how long it took me to post from my phone, and where we could get internet connections. 

My rule was to avoid making the posts about me.  The reports were from my perspective, yes, but you did not need to hear I was devastated or angry or so f'n tired. Especially when I was so exhausted I might have spelled out f'n. Plus Ayn and I were working to have only positive vibes.

What are my emotions today?

Amazed at my oldest son and his awesome wife. What a team.

Buoyant

Calm.  Not with everything in life, but with Bill's situation.

Delighted

Excited for their future.

Friendship with my daughter in law.

Glad

Honored to have witnessed their journey.

Intrigued

Joyful

Kindness

Love

Modesty

Nourished (in the sense of enriched)

Optimistic

Pleased patient pride peace

Quiet qualified quirky

Reassured, relieved

Safe

Thrilled

Unbeatable uplifted 

Vulnerable - yeah, don't take anything for granted. It also means realizing I can't control everything. 

Wonderment

Xenial - being nice to strangers, paying it forward for all that has been given to us

Youthful yielding

Zany