Am I tempting Lady Fate by having a countdown? Hmmm, I’m not much of a believer in anything let alone destiny, yet counting down the weeks still seems like a somewhat foolish thing to do.
However, all being well, today marks his 32nd round with 4 more to follow. Today is FIVE.
It wasn’t a great day to be sure, his counts were really weird with a white count and anc extremely high and a very large number of immature and wacky cells. This is usually the time in his cycle when his anc is at its lowest; instead it was the highest it has ever been. It’s a little freaky, especially with a bunch of immatures, the nurse did tell me though that he is probably fighting a bug of some kind or is about to. This could very well mean a fever in the coming days and a trip to hospital. Hopefully not because Scott doesn't have simple 'bugs', he has calamities.
Later his port didn’t want to work which freaked Scott out no end. Boy does he hate having a port, after almost 2 years of having it attached to him it still makes him feel queasy. After a lot of attempts and jiggling it finally worked.
Later we headed over to the day hospital for his lumbar puncture with chemo – this should be the final one!! – and we waited and we waited and we waited. The doctor and anesthetist were ready, we were ready, but some clod in the pharmacy was being tight in handing over the chemo. 2 hours later it arrived and the procedure was done. The spinal fluid will be checked for cancer in the next few days so we just gotta sit tight and hope its clean.
After the procedure we head back to the clinic for vincristine. Vincristine must always given in a separate room from the spinal tap and chemo because if a mix up occurs and vincristine is injected into the spine instead of methotrexate and Ara-C then it would be fatal. This has happened on occasion but most hospitals now insist on not allowing vincristine into the room where the spinal is to be carried out. Even still, I always check.
So we get back to clinic he has his chemo, gets de-accessed and we say our goodbyes. Just as we’re heading out the door his port starts to gush blood all down his chest!! Grrrr.
What a day!
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.
Happy Hogmanay and may you all be blessed with good willy warts in the coming year.