The update is that there isn’t anything to update you on.  I’ve pretty much spent last few weeks reading, watching TV and eating.

Today I went to church for the first time in months – I finally had the immune system for it.  It was good to see everyone and be out among people I know.

From here on out I am preparing myself for the chemo and transplant that starts on Tuesday. I’ve been fattened up and have plenty to read – just need to do some laundry and pack.

Annonsørinnhold

I butikk nå: Sommerens lekreste kjoler

I’ll write a new update once I’ve settled in at the hospital.

First things first.  We have a date for the bone marrow transplant – February 7th.  I’ll go into the hospital on January 31st, receive a round of chemo, then some immune therapy (not really sure what that is) and then the transplant, followed by five to six weeks of medicine, observation and discomfort.  I’m not looking forward to the process but I am looking forward to being finished with it and being able to live a normal life again. I thank God we are on our way.

In other news – When I came home on Tuesday my stomach was half full of peas and potatoes. I was tired of traditional, tasteless food and craved more. Besides, the doctors said I should try to fatten up for the journey ahead of me. You don’t have to tell me twice. So I ate. I ate pizza, and chocolate and thai food and pasta and figs and pretty much everything esle we have in the fridge or cupboards. I ate myself sick. I have have had indigestion and been burping since Tuesday evening. My wife is not impressed.

I think I’m going to take it easy today. I think, but I have a good friend coming over later with a pumpkin pie, which I am very much looking forward to.

Annonsørinnhold

Jakkene som får frem vårfølelsen

I have to cram it in now. Eat through the pain, because for about three months after the transplant everything is going to taste like cardboard. It is especially important that I eat my way through those recovery months, its not going to be fun or easy eating cardboard for three months.

I’ve been here coming up on two weeks now.  I had a fever for exactly two hours.  Besides that little window, I have been in great shape.  I walk the corridors, I get my own food, I entertain myself.  I am the model prisoner patient.

Being alone with nothing to do but read, pray, relax and take things at my own pace has always been a secret fantasy of mine (probably for most people) and I can say, it was wonderful for the first three hours. (Intersting, this is exactly how my father feels about retirement).

I am largely stuck in my small white room, probably about 15ft X 20ft (5m x 6m). The television doesn’t work, which isn’t that big a deal, but it would help the fill a few of the 16+ hours a day that I sit here.  There is a strict No Visitor policy in effect here in the unit, undoubtedly for my own good, but not being unable to receive visitors, not even my wife wears on me. (May comes every few days and I’ll meet her outside the unit. We both wear masks and we exchange a bag of clean clothes for a bag of dirty laundry.  Sometimes she’ll bring me a snack and we’ll sneak off to the other end of the hall to eat it in peace, sometimes we just walk the hall in front of the unit and talk)

And as with any extended stay or cruise, the meny begins to repeats itself.  The first ten days are OK – but then it slowly sinks in that you are just going around in a never ending circle of turkey meatballs, steamed cod and baked chicken- served with potatoes and some rich sauce at every meal. Wonderful if you’re a eighty year old Norwegian, but if you’re forty plus American who still has his tastebuds, you long for more.

I am ready to go home. But I am also grateful that I am here.  I know I am blessed to have access to so many resources while I’m sick.  I do not take this for granted. They do look after me here and I’m pretty sure that after my last stay (septic shock – summer 2021), they are being extra cautious with me.  The nurses are wonderful and the view is nice.

But at the end of the day, There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.

UPDATE – I wasn’t wearing ruby slippers, but in a bizarre turn of events about an hour after I posted this blog, I got word that they are sending me home today.  I don’t know if the doctor read my blog, but I know God heard my prayers.

Its been a week since the big info meeting and we haven’t anything more on that front, but some things have happened.

I was admitted to the local hospital last Friday.  It was a perfect storm of “what if” senarios.  We had had two days with a lot of snow and we weren’t sure we were going to be able to get the car out.  They were calling for rain the next day (which could mean freezing rain) and the doctor was certain that I was going to get a fever at any minute and thought it might be smart to have me at the hospital ahead of time instead of potentially having to drive out in the middle of the night in the horrible weather conditions.

We heeded the good doctor’s advice and drove in.  As it was we barely got the car out of the driveway and it was rough going all the way to the hospital – but we made it and May eventually made it home again safely.

Annonsørinnhold

I butikk nå: Sommerens lekreste kjoler

So now I sit here in the local hospital – with the same view of the cow pasture as last time – but this time there are no cows.  The snow is all gone and the sun is shining.  The rains came with forty degree plus weather and the snow was all but gone in two days.  As for me, well I still haven’t gotten a fever. But have needed a few blood transfusions so it wasn’t been a complete waste of time here. I am completely bored out of my mind though.

In other news, my normally crazyish hair is weirder than normal.  After the first round of chemo in November i started shedding and lost about 1/3 of my hair, so I shaved everything.  Of the 2/3s remaining – one of the thirds was happy to stay at about the millimeter I had shaved everything down to. The other third decided that it would continue to grow as if nothing had happened.  So my head, is 1/3 bald, 1/3 mm long stubble and 1/3, inch long plus scraggel. Unfortunately, it’s not just my head, but the same is true for my face. I look like a crazy old prospector you might find, malnourished in the hills, after having been missing for twenty years.  The head I can cover with a hat, but my face is harder hide and I can’t shave properly until I’m up and running again. What are you gonna do?

Yesterday was the Big Meet. May and I were at the hospital all day. We got a lot of info. A whole lot of info, and a free lunch.

They check you up and down and inside and out before you sit down and have the walk through and get the small print.  I’ve seen a dentist, a cardiologist, and a lung specialist, I gave 15 vials of blood and a cup of urine. I’ve now been X-rayed, EKGed, ultrasound checked and even met with a social worker to make sure my life wasn’t going to fall apart during this phase.  As it turns out I’m pretty healthy for a sick guy.

After all the checks, tests and conversations, we met with the doctor in charge once again and she went over the whole process, describing everything I’ll do and go through and everything that can go wrong. (they have to do this – its like the small print on the box of anything you buy in the US these days)

Annonsørinnhold

Jakkene som får frem vårfølelsen

Here are the highlights for you-

The have found a perfect match donor for me and that donor has said yes.  He just needs a medical check and to make the donation. Please pray for this person.

The whole process from start to finish (leave home / come home) will be 5-7 weeks depending on how my body reacts to the new cells and medicines.

It’s going to be a long, sucky 5-7 weeks, but it will end eventually.

I am apparently too old and have been through too much to get the powerful chemo round that wipes everything out right away.  So I’ll get a milder version which delivers the same result, but takes a little longer to get the job done – and it will NOT put me in isolation.

There are abut a thousand things that can go wrong, but probably won’t. Things can go wrong in varying degrees. Somethings will go wrong but they know how to handle them.  However – there are no guarantees.

The only thing we don’t know is the start date.  There are too many unknowns right now to give a concrete date – the donor needs to go through his stuff and be healthy – I need to get through this phase of not having an immune system (which will include a fever and a trip to the hospital) and then my blood levels need to climb to a healthish level.  If i had to guess, I’d say end of January / beginning of February, which would bring me home from the hospital mid to late March and have me back to a semi normal life by June.

Now you know as much as I do.  I’m excited and nervous at the same time.  If you pray, please pray for the donor, that everything goes smoothly for him and me, and that I only need to suffer the parts that are going to make me a better man.

Hey Sportsfans

This update is coming to you late, but you didn’t know that until now.

I was readmitted to the hospital last Wednesday, got 72 hours of Chemotherapy and was released Saturday morning.  I can’t figure it out, but I got to spend New Year’s Eve with friends and family, so that was good.

There’s been a lot of in and out and up and down lately. I’m grateful for every minute that I get to spend outside of the hospital and with my family.  But it takes a toll on an old man.  I like a good plan that I can stick to, but I’ve always found it fun and easy to roll with waves and take whatever comes – but this time around it really isn’t fun.  I spent a lot of mentally preparing myself to spend Christmas alone in a hospital bed. I was ready. The family had alternate plans (and I was going to finish Christmas shopping after Christmas because I didn’t really have time this year) Then I get thrown back into a normal Christmas and everyone’s plans needed to be rearranged and I needed to be fit in.  It was a adjustment.

The Doctor had told that next time I went in (after Christmas) I would be going in for the long haul.  So I when I went in last week I was prepared to stay until February.  Yet, 72 hours later I was back out, still scratching my bald head. New Year’s Eve was Christmas all over again – mentally.   I have no idea when I’ll be readmitted – when I get a fever I suppose, provided it happens this time around.  So I’m not even unpacking my bags.  I took my meds and my PC out but the rest of it stands ready because I have no idea what to expect or when to expect it.

This Thursday is still the big day for info about what comes next.  I really hope there are answers to be had or I’m going to feel like a sucker, building it up like this and coming back with no new info. Until then we go with the flow, eat up and watch hockey.