Two Thirds Down...A Third to Go!

The 22nd of March start date for the final three cycles of chemo was postponed until today, a week later. This, after we had driven up the night before, gone to the Marsden, given blood to be tested and had a somewhat lousy night's sleep at the flat before returning the following morning to the third floor Private Day Patients room for the treatment. Lovely Claire put the cannula in Richard's arm and then we waited for a bit. Dr Mochlosky, one of Prof Cunningham's team came and told Richard that his red blood cell count was low, at 10 whatevers, when it should have been around 12. He was anemic and it was borderline blood transfusion territory. Because Richard was feeling exhausted the team decided to put it off for a week much to our secret delight. A good call, we both thought. Time to consolidate Richard's recovery, let the much improved cough lessen even more and just have some time off.

So the past week Richard laid out in the spring sunshine which there thankfully was plenty of. He got a tan so doesn't look so anemic.

In my zeal, on Tuesday I called our sweet nutritionist Stephanie and told her of Richard's anemia. She said she would send me some diet advice and would order some iron pills to help. We got iron rich animal derived foods (haem iron)...liver, red meat, and combined with iron rich vegetable foods (non haem iron) like tomatoes to help boost things. On Friday we got the iron tablets and Richard took one in the afternoon. Almost straight away he got diarrhea but we didn't put it together until Sunday night that the tablets probably were the cause. I will try to remember to read the tablet literature next time though in the list of side effects it lists constipation and then diarrhea. Who knew?

This morning in his special chair at the Marsden he was once again readied with the cannula. We hadn't made it in the previous afternoon so we had to wait for blood tests. But then, when Dr J (another of Prof Cunningham's team) heard about Richard's continuing diarrhea he ordered an xray and asked that he be moved to a private room in case he had the norovirus.

It turns out that the xray showed there is still a little infection in his right lung which Dr. J didn't seem too worried about. Surprisingly, and in a rather contradictory way, his red blood cell count is now at 11.2 which Dr J said was about as good as it gets so soon after a surgery like Richard's. It was decided not to put him on antibiotics until they do a molecular test on a stool sample but did prescribe some anti-diarrhea pills. We are to call early Thursday afternoon to see if the diarrhea has subsided so we can go back in to start the chemo on Friday.

It's amazing how spirits dip and then soar with different medical pronouncements. Boo, that there is still some indication of a chest infection. Yipee, that the red blood count is up to 11.2! Hard to find the path to emotional well being within the twists and turns of bodily changes. There does seem to be some consolation though, that in a few short months the treatment will be done and the prospect of health will be realised.

On the lighter side, Richard is making some amazing sounds as his newly arranged esophagus and stomach are marrying with their surroundings. His cough has turned into a kind of growl with quite a few subtle nuances. Very handy to fend off muggers!

He's often really physically tired and feels fed up with the whole thing. Wants to get rid of his feeding tube which he is faithfully flushing three times a day. Wants to be able to travel again. Wants to be able to sit on the rider mower and do the whole lawn in two hours like he used to (he did one hour last week and then had to stop, exhausted). Everybody keeps reminding him that he's doing brilliantly after 14 hours of surgery but sometimes that's not enough to pick his spirits up. He acknowledges it could be worse as we watch the news reports from Japan and Libya... and the days pass with the promise that one day we might hear the pronouncement that he is cancer free. We talk about the fact that on that day he might just step off the corner and get hit by a bus! The moral of course is, live in the present moment as that's all there ever is. Easy to say.