The Unexpected

There are no prison breaks to report this week. Unfortunately, the only field trips Keith had this week included a 4 hour stay in Day Treatment and a night in the Emergency Room.

Keith and I weren't at his oncology appointment for more than five minutes on Wednesday before we learned it was going to be a very long day. They had drawn labs during his radiation sedation and the results were poor. Keith's red blood cells, white blood cells and his ANC (Absolute Neutrophil Count) had dipped below the safe-zones. (Good thing we got out last week while we could, right?)
This meant two things. One: he needed an immediate blood transfusion to boost his red blood cell count. Two: he needed a daily GCSF shot to aid his bone marrow in producing more white blood cells, specifically ANC.
The blood transfusion and the first shot would be done following our oncology appointment. The transfusion would take a few hours but at least it wouldn't hurt. Keith had been up since 3 AM that morning, complaining because "my pillow is too hot". (Supposedly radiation can feel like a sunburn.) So, he was very tired. Fortunately, we were able to curl up on a couch together and sleep through most of the transfusion. For what seems like a big deal to me is treated pretty casually in the cancer-treatment world. We were in a large family-room style set-up with patients scattered about the room. One patient was puking her guts out behind us while a rambunctious patient and her family ate their lunch in front of us; all while receiving some sort of treatment.
I know. Seriously. Sometimes I think I'm dreaming my way through this whole thing. Ordinarily, I would have been disturbed by the vomiting grade-schooler, but before the nurse could finish apologizing for it, I quickly interrupted her and explained that I completely understood. Just a few weeks ago, that was us: Keith was the one vomiting all over the oncology play-room--several times. I was cleaning vomit out of the sofa crevices and out of the rug and off our clothes. Fortunately, someone had donated a brand-new pair of pajamas in Keith's size so at least he didn't have to wear his insides for the rest of the appointment.
So as bad as the lounge sounds, nothing can shock me anymore. I swear one thing I've learned from all of this is that I will NEVER judge anyone ever again. You just never know what someone might be suffering under that unkempt hair, greasy face and grimy clothes. Lately, that someone is me or a member of my family.
So, anyway...the transfusion. All went well and after a good nap and some Scooby Doo, we were home-free. At least we were as soon as Keith had his GCSF shot. Fortunately, Keith only had to endure one shot while awake because they did the others while he was sedated for radiation on Thursday and Friday. I was dreading the weekend where I would be administering the shots myself at home. Not because I mind giving shots. I administered shots at an allergy clinic to help pay my way through college and I gave myself shots in the stomach when undergoing infertility treatment. Trust me. Shots don't bother me. What bothered me was being the bad guy for Keith. Again. I already give him all his meds and run his feeding tube and take him everywhere he doesn't want to go. I really did not want to add "shot administrator" to my stellar resume. Needless to say, when the clinic called Friday afternoon and reported that his ANC had rallied from the 300s to the 2000s (1500 and above is normal), I was ecstatic! No shots over the weekend. They'll continue to draw blood a couple of times a week and he will need shots here and there throughout his treatment but at least we're safe for the moment. And if there's one good thing about radiation, it's that we can do lots of things under sedation--like shots. So, we'll take advantage of the next 2 weeks.

We planned to lay low Thursday to allow Keith to recover from a long day on Wednesday and from several poor nights of sleep. (Brent and I are getting in lots of late night Scooby Doo with the K-man.) I'm pretty sure someone spiked his blood or maybe Keith is part-vampire because he was almost bouncing off the walls Thursday. The oncologist said to expect an energy increase post-transfusion, but I was pretty surprised that afternoon when Keith showed up in the entryway while he was supposed to be taking a nap. I was mostly shocked because this meant he had crawled out of bed, pulled out his feeding tube, ripped the cement-like tape off his face and slid down a flight of stairs in order to do so. I couldn't even be upset about him taking out the tube because I was so proud of him for all his hard work!

He had to get the feeding tube replaced the next morning during radiation sedation. (I told you sedation comes in handy.) But Keith struggled with the new tube all day on Friday. It was vomit on top of vomit so I was almost relieved when the tube came up with the vomit by dinner time. Rather than thread a very long, noxious tube all the way back up through his throat and nose (imagine a tube going in the nose and out his mouth at this point) I simply cut it short and then pulled a much shorter tube out his nose. The only problem then was that we needed a new tube and it was the weekend and there would be no radiation or oncology clinic open in the morning to put in a new one. (They've promised to train me but again, I'm not exactly jumping up and down at the thought of adding "tube threader" to my growing list of talents.) My only option after speaking with our oncologist was to head to the E.R.

Keith and I had a killer Friday night watching movies and waiting and waiting and waiting in the E.R. Fortunately, we did get a private waiting room since our oncologist called ahead and didn't want to expose Keith to who-knows-what floating around the Emergency Department. We were also lucky to have Grandma Smart and Darel hang out with us before their very long drive home.
It wasn't pleasant and Keith was not at all happy about getting the tube put back in. "No! No tube!" was his mantra. (Did I mention that I hate pinning him down?)
We eventually made it home by 11:15 and called it a night. I hope we can avoid that field trip in the near-future. The good news is two-fold. One: Keith is tolerating the new tube. Two: Keith was exhausted enough to sleep through the night.
Seven. Hours. Of. Uninterrupted. Sleep.
Enough said.

Uncle Bryce's visit was a huge hit for the weekend. The kids couldn't get enough of reading stories and watching movies on his phone!