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

Fine ting du bør ha på hytta

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

Fine ting du bør ha på hytta

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)

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Bestill nå, få i tide: Årets beste påskeegg

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.

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Stort påskesalg hos Get Inspired: Spar opptil 70%

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)

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.

Annonsørinnhold

Fine ting du bør ha på hytta

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.

Got up early this morning and drove back to the hospital.

It’s been a busy day. I started with a bone marrow test, got my bandages changed and tubes cleaned. Then I had a dentist appointment as a precaution for the coming transplant – they decided to pull a tooth that had been root filled- apparently it was a tough pull- so now I am in a lot of pain. We are rounding the day off with round of chemotherapy.  Not an ideal day, but we are on our way.

On our way toward what, I’m not sure. Even after this round of chemo the transplant may still be a few weeks away. So I don’t know how long I am stuck here. Really, I don’t know anything. I thought I knew the plan but I guess I was mistaken. Hopefully we’ll know a little (or a lot) more next week when we meet with the transplant team.  I’ll let you know.

It sure was nice being home for Christmas. That was such an unexpected blessing.  I felt good and life was in slow motion – I got to spend time all three kids.  Hannah, Jakob and Sarah all took time to sit with me, talk with me, go out with me and just be with me. What a blessing.

I’m sorry that Christmas is over and that I have to be in here again, but at least we are moving toward getting home permanently.

No news today. I’m still relaxing with my family, just being home, eating my way through Christmas. But I was (with my lovely wife May) reflecting on something.

At the University hospital they’ve invested a lot in “art”. Mostly what I’d call institution art. There are a few nice pieces scattered throughout the hospital but mostly its just lithographs of varying quality and color covering the walls and halls, but none in the sterile white rooms where the patients stay. I have an eye for art, and institution art does not catch it. I might go so far as to call it decoration instead of art. But I’m not here to ponder the philosophy of art.

Then they decorated the hospital for Christmas, which was very nice. Lots of lights and trees and decorations.

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Fine ting du bør ha på hytta

This is just to say that they have gone to great lengths to try to brighten up the place. But for us the nicest thing to see in the whole hospital is the empty baby carts left by the exit doors. They represent life and hope for the future. Someone going home, a family growing. A little brother or sister in a big family or a member of a new family of two. They are going home for their first Christmas and hopefully many of them will never have to go back to a hospital. Yet, I know that some of them might spend the better part of their lives in health care. But for right now they are home with their families, where they belong.  That sight and that thought inspire more hope and emotion in me than all the rest of the art at Rikshospital.

We wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!

When they sent me home fourteen days ago the doctors figured I might be home for a few days before I got a fever and would have to go back into the hospital.  That was then…

Today marks fourteen days since I came home. I never got the fever. My blood values continue to rise and the bone marrow test I took yesterday still shows no sign of the cancer having come back yet. This is amazing. (We know that without the transplant my bone marrow will eventually produce cancer cells again, but it is amazing that it has goen 3 weeks without it coming back.)

This means that instead of three rounds of chemotherapy, I will only need two. The next one is the one they give before the transplant.

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Begrenset antall: Caia Cosmetics påskeegg er på lager

I get to spend Christmas at home with my family. Thank God!

I go back into the hospital next week and start the process for the bone marrow transplantation. So hopefully I will be back home and recovering properly by mid-February.

This is an incredible answer to our prayers (all of us) Thank you all so much for praying and wishing me well. And thank you God for answering them and keeping me healthy enough to do this.

All I have to report is that there isn’t much to report.

After two check ups I’m still healthy(ish) and still at home.

I get to stay home over the weekend and go back in over the weekend for another round of tests.

I’m not really sure what’s going on, I’m just along for the ride and do what I’m told.