You think I look Bad? You Should See the Lymphoblasts...

Thursday brought another exciting day. I went to bed Wednesday night excited that my Thursday clinic visit was not scheduled until 11:30. Usually I need to be to the clinic by 8:30 or 9:00 and those of you who know me well know that I usually don't much like rolling out of bed before 9:00 unless it's to head out fishing or on an adventure.

Knowing that I needed to fast for six hours before being sedated at 12:30, I stayed up late so that I would sleep late. I also set an alarm and woke up at 6:00 to eat a big bowl of cereal to hold me over through the day. I then went back to bed. I arose at 8:30 to go to the bathroom, and when washing my hands, blood began flowing freely from my left nostril.

I held a tissue under it for a few minutes hoping it would clot and I could go back to bed. It did not. I sat in bed for an hour holding tissues and thinking "Come on platelets, pull together, I don't want to lose any more of my precious red blood cells."

After an hour and a half, we headed to the clinic early. I was unshowered, wearing sweatpants, a white tee shirt with blood stains down the front. Trying to figure out a way to control the bleeding and wear a mask in the clinic was not easy. I shoved some tissue in my nostril, put on the mask, and entered the clinic.

The nurse brought me right back to the "chemo room" where I sat with ice on the back of my neck, ice on the bridge of my nose, pinching my nose closed. The lab technicians came in to draw my labs, then we waited for the results.

By the time the results came back it was 11:30 and I had been bleeding for 3 hours. The results showed that I was LOW on platelets, the little buggers that are responsible for coagulating one's blood. How low? I had 7 platelets per unit of blood. The average range is between 160 and over 300... That's what intense chemo drugs will do and explains the bloody nose.

They then had to order a bag of platelets from the blood bank. This took another hour or so. It was well into the early afternoon before the little buggers began entering my blood stream. The bag of platelets was yellow -- who would have thought?

My hemoglobin was also quite low again. After receiving my bag of platelets we moved on to two bags of red blood cells, two bags of saline, and a bag of Zofram (an anti-nausea drug) as a pre-med for the chemo I would be receiving. My IV pole looked like a Christmas tree. On top of the IV products, I also had two rounds of Benedryl, Tylenol, and a steroid as pre-meds. As well as Acyclovir and Fluconozole (Anti-viral and Anti-Fungal that I now take every day). All of this was on an empty stomach with almost no water. My poor liver must have felt like that of Hunter S. Thompson.

If you're looking for a measure of just how much blood, fluid, and meds they pumped into me, without eating or drinking all day, I still managed to gain 5 pounds.

By this time it was well into the afternoon, and we had not so much as begun any of the scheduled treatment for the day (another spinal tap, and two more chemo injections). I went for a walk around the chemo room with my Mom. Now here's a visual -- Me in sweatpants, a white tee-shirt stained in blood, a hoodie over it unzipped, pushing my Christmas tree of blood products and meds. And to top it all off, a kleenex stained in blood hanging out my left nostril.

I looked pretty hardcore. One nurse looked at me, smiled, and said "Hi Sam. You look like you were in a serious fight and lost." Had the Benedryl not slowed me down and supressed my wit I would have replied "You think I look bad? You should see the lymphoblasts..."

I really wish I had had a camera.

Finally, with some fresh blood, the Doctor came in to do the spinal tap. I went over some side effects I've experienced with him (chest pain, abdominal pain, acid reflux, back pain, extreme fatigue, chronic blood in nose, headaches, vomiting, and a laundry list of other ailments.) Each one I'd list off he'd nod and say umm hmm, umm hmm, yup...

"Is this okay?" I asked.

"Sam, you're on a super intense chemo regiment," the Doc said... "We'll give you all of these," he said pointing at my list of twenty or so symptoms. "We just won't give you a fever. If you get a fever you need to come in. Otherwise you'll be all right. I like to call this the 'month from hell'."

I found this strangely comforting. If this is the month from hell, at least I can look forward to some less intense treatment and better days. I did find it strange however that he referred to it as the "month" from hell when this stage is 57 days long. That's a long month by any stretch of the imagination. Especially when you're getting blasted. Oh well, one month to go anyway.

By the time we finished the spinal tap, the IV Chemo (Vincristine), and two shots of chemo in the 'ole glutes, we ended up closing up the chemo room for the second straight week. Another full day complete.

Yesterday and today I've felt rather well. I'm back on the 'ole bike, lifting some light dumbells for my arms, and dancing with Katie. Life is good.

Finally, I'll share with you one more "Sam is an anomolly" story. I was extremely concerned over the last stage because despite eating about 3500 calories daily I continued to lose weight until I was down to about 115 pounds. Every time I'd ask a doctor they'd say, "that's funny, most people put on a lot of weight during this stage and lose weight in the next stage, but I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Well, I was worried, I don't much like the thought of withering away below 115 pounds. After coming off the steroids (which are suppose to cause weight gain) and intensifying the chemo drugs (which are supposed to cause weight lose), I've now began putting on weight again. I can happily report that I'm now at 130 pounds, much closer to my old norm.

I have to laugh every time I see a commercial for weight loss products, foods and services. If only I had that problem I could deal with it. I'm getting really very tired of eating meat and heavy foods. I'd about kill for a spring roll, a salad, or a sushi role.

Allright, fun stuff: Comment Question of the Day:

One redeeming quality of fighting leukemia is that I get to use two of my favorite words in the English language, hemoglobin and coagulate, without having to awkwardly work them into conversations like "you can turn the heat off on the rice and the liquid will coagulate as it cools." Technically such a statement is correct, but it always draws funny looks.

So, the question: What are your favorite words in the English language (or another language, but you need to give me a definition and explanation if you do this)?

Shout Outs:

SO to Julie for the mix CD
SO to Schryver for recommending "Man on Wire" back in the day -- much enjoyed
SO to KO, sorry I haven't called back yet -- I will soon
SO to all my friends at BBC
SO to Abby and Dederich, thanks for being "on call" last night

Enjoying the sunshine and warmth and hoping it lasts,

-Sam