So how was your Valentine's Day?

So how was your Valentine’s day?

 

Saturday Connor had his last basketball game and thank goodness. We ran into a Buzzsaw team that annihilated us. Our best point guard was out and it made a huge difference.  I’m not going to get all Van Gundy, but the ref really didn’t enforce some of the no steal and cover your own color (arm band) rules we’ve had all season.  But Connor had fun and it was a successful season.  I say that because Connor was itching to keep playing.  We then had a team party afterwards and then later that afternoon we were off to baseball tryouts.  Connor did okay and we ended up on the Rangers which makes me so very happy.  Now I get to gear up all the kids and wife in Rangers stuff. Josie was drafted on to a tee-ball team with two of her favorite friends.  That should also be a great season. On Sunday, we had a cub scout meeting where he learned how to keep his campsite clean, present the colors, fold a flag, and tie knots.

Monday, February 13, I headed off to Houston to check in with the anesthesia group, get some blood work and an electrocardiogram. Tuesday would be my surgery date, but not until 2pm.  A torrential storm hit Houston and effectively crippled downtown for a few minutes, but luckily, I was safely tucked away and fasting at Lance’s house in Santa Fe (just outside of Houston/Galveston).  My appointment was moved a couple of hours but when we finally drove in, it was clear as bell and traffic was light.

While most were out on dates or getting chocolates and flowers I thought it would be more productive to have my spleen embolized, effectively killing 60 percent of it.  What they do is run a tube up your femoral artery right about at your underwear line (I suppose depending on where you wear yours), and over to your spleen.  Then they inject gelatin sponges to damn up a couple of arteries in your spleen to actually stop the blood flow.  The tissue then “dies.”  Also, since they went through the femoral artery, they have a little dissolvable cap on the artery so you don’t “accidentally bleed out.”  I’m thinking since it’s right on the underwear line, I’m probably going commando for a day or two.  No peeking…you know who you are!

Pre-op

I was told throughout the lead up and just before the procedure that it was very painful.  Well let me tell you it wasn’t that bad…so I though.  In the recovery room, no problems.  They gave me my little pain button with a loaded bag of dilaudid; and it was available every 15 minutes.  So I stayed in front of the pain.  But that also meant a long and sleepless night.  I thought I’d been in bed for 8 hours and looked up and it was only 2AM.  But if you remember surgeries, there is a constant barrage of bloodwork and vitals to be taken throughout the night.

Post Op valentine I sent to Nita

The second day, still no pain, and I walked around the halls a few times to get my system back on track.  I still had no appetite but tried to choke down a few things.  The other problem was I was drinking so much water and eating ice chips because the surgery and dilaudid made my mouth so dry I couldn’t swallow.  So I would try to hydrate to at least regain the ability to do that.

At meal times, I was so waterlogged and had such a low appetite I basically picked at the food and took a few bites, there was no concern at the nurse’s station as this was a semi-common response even though this is a rare surgery.  So rare, in fact, that the Physician’s Assistant thought that I might have to stay another day when my numbers fell.  Right after surgery my Platelets score (the score we’re all watching fervently) shot up to 103K.  I posted on FB, sent some texts messages and even started a string on my Aggie Yell board.  The next blood test on the morning of the 16^th had my platelets at around 73K.  Uh Boy.  You can imagine the thoughts going through my head: Oh well, we gave it our best shot, and I hope I can make it long enough for Nita to qualify for spousal death benefits at work, etc.

Then the Doctors both came in, the attending physician and good ole Dr. Kee my MDA oncologist (the king of no bullshit).  Both said that the numbers would fluctuate while the spleen fought for survival.  Essentially the spleen is one big lymph node in the immunity system and might have been chewing up platelets to save itself…temporarily.  Kee even said that the real numbers may not be apparent until Monday or even the following week or two.  Here comes the great part.  He even said that there is a trial that he wants me to get into; and as soon as I show 100K, he’ll get me in it.  We are meeting on Monday to do bloodwork and get it checked out.  I have a hunch that he’s been saving a spot on his colorectal trial for me.  Two weeks ago, and there are only 20 spots, he’d already had 12 interviews, I’m not questioning a blessing, but thanks to either God or Dr. Kee for holding the spot for me.

The reason a trial in colorectal is important is because it is specifically targeting colon cancer and associated metastasized organs.  The other trial intake was for any and every cancer.  You might get in a liver trial or a pancreas trial or a throat cancer trial…and they are simply trying to figure out dosages and side effects with the efficacy of the drugs being secondary or perhaps tertiary.  In this one, it is specifically looking how colon cancer patients react to these drugs which (in my opinion) gives a higher possibility of success.

Back to the dilaudid.  So as I was pushing my button and getting the bolus (bolus is a fancy word for a measured shot administered over a specific amount of time – usually between 30 seconds and 3 minutes) occasionally from the nurse, I was getting terrible headaches.  The nurses said that when an organ is dying you’ll get headaches but it might also be the narcotic, but they couldn’t give me Tylenol for the headache.  I also wasn’t drinking coffee like normal.  Anyway, I made a game time decision while the doctor was writing my take home prescription and I asked for Vicodin 10 because it had Tylenol in it and I know it doesn’t react unfavorably with my body. 

Our friend Ann Marie took Nita and the kids to top golf for Valentine's

The organ pain started on the drive home on the 16^th.  I figured it was the jostling from the car ride.  I’m afraid it might have just been the onset of the actual organ pain (the spleen’s final fight to the death) or the wearing off of the dilaudid.  I got home and took my Hydrocodone (same as Vicodin) and it somewhat went away.  As I tried to sleep, I realized a valuable lesson.  If a doctor offers you a higher-grade narcotic for your pain, you take it!  Don’t try to out doctor your doctor.  So I have been taking my Hydro’s on schedule, but holy shit does my spleen hurt.  To the point where Nita asked me if I wanted to take the kids to school and I was on the fence, thinking maybe I shouldn’t drive at all for a day or so.  I explained to Nita the situation and she said, “Wait, the doctor offered you stronger meds and you said, ‘no?’ You are an idiot.”  She’s right.  The worst part is there is no comfortable position: sitting, standing, sleeping, pressure, no pressure…it all sucks.  I hope this goes by in a couple of days.  Phew, I thought I was tougher than this.

Connor didn't believe the security guard had hand cuffs

My appetite came back a little and I was able to eat my mother’s caldo soup last night.  It has always made me feel better and yesterday was certainly no exception.  It’s a long story, but I am determined to find an Arby’s today and pound down a roast beef sandwich.  Right Lance?  By the way.  Special shout out to Lance Gibbs for taking four days to shuttle me to Houston, take me for my appointments, put me up in his house Monday night, visit me every day, and then bring me home without ever making me feel like it was a burden or he could have been doing something else.  Also on the Aggie Yell side, JPhillips sent some Tiffs Treat cookies and brownies. Although I was unable to eat them hot, they were just as tasty on Thursday afternoon with my wife and kids.  Also, Big Bobby B brought Papa’s BBQ.  I also couldn’t eat it, but it will make for fantastic leftovers.

A couple of other housekeeping notes.  I showed up with all my medicines neatly separated into the nice days of the week container Nita gave me a few years back.  Well, the nurses and pharmacists wouldn’t let me take them.  “THEY” had drugs they could dispense…except for the bystolic.  Bystolic is a blood pressure med and it actually costs me $50/month to take. But since I didn’t bring it in the original bottle, they couldn’t “verify” that it was an undoctored pill. So about six times they had to retake my BP and ask me stupid questions about anxiety, or chest pain.  I kept begging them, ”Look, just bring my little pill box, leave the room for 1 minute, come back and take my BP and no one will be worried again.”  No dice.  Oh, and as many of you know, cancer and surgery sometimes make you nauseous.  At home, I had a nice little bottle of Ondanzatron (Zofran) that I keep by the bathroom sink.  It is a dissolvable pill that works lightning fast.  The nurses would file for the Zofran, the pharmacy would fill and send it up, within two hours.  So how frustrating is that? Fighting heaves for two hours for something that is in your bag on the nurse’s station just 15 steps away.

But I got home safely and was so happy to see the family.  The kids were excited to see me and we joked through dinner.  It made my heart full and reminded me why I do all the things I do anymore.  I am thankful for my blessings and that I’m able to laugh at my trials and tribulations.  If you can’t keep a sense of humor about this stuff, I think it’ll kill you faster.  I have no empirical evidence, but it’s my theory. The appetite is slowly returning, I’m having a cup of coffee and a yogurt as I write this.  All in all, I feel positive about the week.  I certainly hope that next week brings good news and that trial can do some good.  If I remember the details correctly it is one or two days at MDA, then two weeks at home.  I can CERTAINLY live with that. 

One other funny thing.  Since we were spending valentine’s day together, I gave all the nurses, doctors, and attendants who came into my room children’s valentine’s cards.  They were a huge hit on the floor.  One nurse took it to another level claiming that she alone was my valentine.  And when I did my laps around the nurse’s station she’d yell out, “Heeeeyyy, how’s my valentine today?”  She was adorable. Oh and a priest came by the room and gave me communion and performed the anointing of the sick again (yes you can do it more than once).  I’m not saying I’ve racked up a bunch of sins since Dec 22, but it’s nice to know the slate is clean again.

So the volume of texts, posts, likes, comments, and calls certainly made me feel like I wasn’t alone on valentine’s day. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I don’t think this path would be as easy to travel without all of you lining the virtual sides cheering me on to keep moving and keep going.  Suffice to say, I have no intention of letting you down.  God bless and I love you!  Plus as a friend said, “God’s not done with you yet.”  So, I guess we’ve got more work to do.  TeamMarco.