I just got home and I am extremely tired but before I take a nap, I want to fill you in on the last few days.
I arrived at the Oncology center about 8:15 Thursday morning. I had my lab drawn and then sat in the "patented" chemo recliner. It is a hard, ugly, blue industrial chair that can actually recline if you use the right combination switch pulling and body leverage. They hooked me up to an IV then injected the bright red adrimycin over the the next 20 minutes. By the time I got home, I had a mild headache but felt OK otherwise. The headache got progressively worse through the day and night. Tylenol and acupuncture did not touch it. I also had a little nausea that night.
I felt better Friday just in time for my next round at Seton. Got settled in the room by 12:30 and got my vitals and lab drawn. They came back in a couple of hours and asked me a lot of questions about leg cramping, heart problems and fatigue. It seems my potassium level was at a critically low level and they said I had to be admitted overnight since my heart could stop at any time. It seemed a little melodramatic since I really did not have any overt symptoms, but how can you argue. Some of the nurses said they have never seen it so low with out any symptoms. I am beginning to think that I am a bit of an anomaly with high tolerances and pain thresholds. Or maybe, I am just really out of touch with my body.
So the new plan is, I have to do two, 2 hour bags of potassium drip, wait an hour, draw blood, wait for the results and then determine if chemo can start. Hmmm, quick math suggests a finishing time at 3 in the morning. Well so much for a good nights sleep.
They started me on the potassium drip and I got settled when the room phone started ringing. Wonder who that could be, so I answered. “your factory warranty is about to expire. Please call....." You got to be kidding! What are the chances of that happening in a hospital room? I hunkered down and started reading again when the phone started ringing again. Thinking it might be Glenda, I answered “Hello”
“Who’s this”? Some hispanic male who obviously had a wrong number. So you know how it goes.
“Well, who’s this”?
“No man, who is this”? He didn’t sound happy.
“No, who is this” Of course this could go on forever till the insults start flying.
“No, really, who are you”? He was getting more upset and I think he thought he had the right number and I was at his woman’s house or something. As much as I wanted to play this out, I thought, maybe he knows my room number so I quickly hung up. So much more my little excitement of the day. I decided to unplug the phone after that.
Five and a half hours or so passed and I learned that my potassium was still not at the level they wanted it. They said it was really really low. So new plan, go ahead and do the pre hydration, chemo and post hydration. Then follow with another 4 hours of potassium, and retest before release. Quick math, ughh, that means I should be wrapping up about 10:30 in the morning. Oh what a fun night this is going to be. Bummer!
I had to deal with at least 6 different head nurses during the night. Some for only a couple hours at a time. Each had there own way of doing things. but all wanted vitals and had to check in on everything. One of them set a bag to drip and didn't check back for two hours and found that it was never working. A waste of two hours, but since I wasn't going anywhere any how, I did not let it get to me.
Well I made it through the night with some sleep here and there. I got the final potassium level back at 10:30 this morning. My levels are still not up to where they would like it, but they released me any how. I must have been really low if 8 hours of potassium drip did not restore my levels. If there is anyone out there still sending me fluid elimination thoughts, I think you can stop now. All the peeing I have done over the last month is the only reason I can think of, other than medication side effects, that my potassium has dropped so low.
I am a little nauseated right now but not bad Mostly very sleepy, so I am signing off and will touch base in a few days.
Lot's of Love,
Brian
5 comments:
Hope you have a nice, restful weekend, my brother. I promise I won't make any more crank calls pretending to be 1)phone solicitors or 2)Hispanic cuckolds.
Brian, I hope the rest of your chemo cycle goes well.
Last week I experienced a "Holy Spirit moment" that I want to share with you.
I was driving to the store in a prayerful state of mind, all the while thinking about you and your difficult circumstances. Yet at the same time, I had pushed the scan button on my car radio and it was cycling through 5 second-sound bites of each station (yes, kind of like my bad habit of channel surfing on cable TV). Anyway, I suddenly heard the words "Psalms twenty-three" and immediately stopped the scan to listen more closely. It was a Christian radion station, airing a discussion about one of your favorite bible passages - Psalms 23!
This radio lesson centered on an ancient and traditional Church story that was often used to teach the meaning of Psalms 23 - namely, the story of a Shepherd draping an injured lamb over his shoulders and carrying the lamb as it healed. Now, I don't particularly like the historical interpretation that a Shepherd would sometimes intentionally break a lamb's leg in order to teach it not to wander away from the flock into danger. Rather, I prefer to believe that the little lamb just happened to be sick or injured due to some circumstance beyond its control.
And I can imagine the Shepherd talking to the lamb gently and reassuringly for many hours daily, as he carried and protected it. In this way the Shepherd engendered such a strong bond between them that the lamb learned to readily recognize and obey the Master's voice. Subsequently, the lamb also preferred to stay close to the safety and companionship of the Master and the rest of the flock.
Brian, after hearing this radio broadcast, I visualized you as the unfortunate, sick and injured lamb, being protected and carried to safety throughout your chemotherapy and surgeries, by our Lord Jesus Christ. Insofar as you have made a commitment to trust Him to take care of you and heal you, then you will no doubt emerge from the end of your "long and dark corridor" with a much stronger and deeper Faith.
As you continue to endure your personal sufferings, I am sure that you will benefit from a much closer relationship with God, and you will be able to depend on Him for support at any time. You will continue to listen intently to His gentle and reassuring voice in your life - and most certainly, you will be able to recoginize the presence of the Holy Spirit, embracing you during every other aspect and event of your lifetime, in the many years to come.
With love and prayers, brother Rick
Brian,
Who is this? Really man. I mean it.
Ha - I love the stories and the insight into your positive state of mind.
I keep sending positive visualizations.
Keep up the great work, and have a great rest. Look forward to your next posting.
WOW quite a schedule you have my friend. I will be there with you the whole time. Lots to tell you and hope to get it done in the next couple of days. Need to make sure of a few things, but looking god my brother, looking good.
We love you and Glenda,
~b and j
Hello Bryan, I know you probably don't remember me - it's been so long, but my Aunt Sandy shared your blog with me. I certainly remember you, and not just because my mother gave me the middle name Bryan because of you. My Mother was Susan Sunderland.
I want you to know that your blog has moved and touched me. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers and look forward to reading more as you regain your health.
Give my Aunt Wanda a BIG hug from me when you see her and email me when you get the chance. (bryan@endlessproductions.com)
P.S. I have very fond memories of you and Glenda and looking back I remember thinking that she was really special even as a kid. You are both lucky to have each other.
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