2002 Story Set
| August 28, 2002 I deserve a Mother-Medal. I have just finished eight loads of laundry. Let's go back to the beginning. --------------------------- Last Thursday, we gave a talk at one of our Teams for Team in Training, part of the leukemia Society. My younger son, the chemo patient, wasn't eating too well. He had started Ohlone college on Monday. I was a bit concerned. We skipped the after-practice social hour. He'd been feeling low since Wednesday. He had brought food home. Not like him not to eat. And he was tired. Slept at 10PM - instead of 4AM. On Thursday morning, chemo day, he had counts drawn (a little low - 700 - ANC count but chemo anyway), and he complained that his chest hurt. Right where the port is. We drew cultures (for bacteria) and thought "viral" and sent him home on an extra session of GCSF. He was a mess, getting hot and cold and his chest still hurt. And Thursday we discussed his pain in his chest - but the port access area was right above the pain. Two doctors looked at him, took his temperature - which was climbing. He had been hot in the morning when he woke up - and I had thrown him into a cold shower. Well, cool shower. And run in to the hospital with the windows in the van open. His temp climbed while we were there. "Viral." They said. Viral, I hoped. So we did Team and Training, and he got chilled. ---------------------------- Friday I went to work - but came home two hours early. Concerned. He's hot - but his temp is going up and down. I push fluid. By Friday night, I was on the phone to the hospital. ------------------------------ Saturday - My son crawled out of bed and went to the movies with members of Team in Training. He got to see "XXX". He was nagging me to take him if they hadn't shown up. But he could not do lunch afterward. He described how he had, on Wednesday, been so tired he was climbing up the hill room by room, resting and driving teachers nuts. I hadn't known about that bit when I paid for his classes on Thursday. I was on the phone to the doctor later. This time I got the doctor out of bed. Vicodin for the pain. ------------------------- By 4AM Sunday, he had climbed to 38.3 again. Another Vicodin. Tylenol. Liquid. By 9AM Sunday (I had overslept), it was 38.9 and he was uncomfortable. I was alarmed, he said he couldn't sleep, the pain was bothering him, the Vicoden was not helping No sleep for him. Snatches for me. They said, "Bring him in." He said, "Drive the truck." I said, "Give me an hour." I showered, tossed bottles into the rolling bag and dressed. He dressed. I grabbed coffee, Medifast (need to order some) and took all my pills. We loaded the truck and rolled. After I found cash for the Dunbarton Bridge. We are in 2North - his old home - treatment room. He is back in a wheelchair. He must be accessed. He must have an Xray. He will have a bolis. He can't stand to stay laying down. They gave him one Tylenol. Because neither he nor I could remember whether I had given him a Tylenol or a Vicodan at 9AM. His O2 levels also drop when he lays down (they used O2 on blow-by). I got a bottle of Starbucks Lite Mocha since the coffee lady doesn't do Sundays. I read to him. Mac World. MacAddict. We did the geek test. He knew more answers than I did. It was a way to help time pass. From 10-6PM we were there. I knew where the rest room was (family waiting area). They brought him a urinal - no, no we say. We burned ours months ago. They did the Xray. Doctor 1, doctor 2, doctor 3, and then radiology checked. He had not been able to take deep breaths. But they caught it. Last man standing. Pneumonia. He has to take Augmentin. I have to watch him. His counts, 700 on Thursday, are well over 2,000 (ANC). The GCSF shots are working. I drive fast over the Dunbarton to Long's Drugs - and arrive 7 minutes before they close. I am glad I did not go home first - because I'd be going back to the hospital. I do not have to detail the inept way they handle a MediCal co-pay - I've recorded it before - I will be back to collect the refund from them tomorrow or soonest. He is propped in the recliner on the sofa, with Gatorade and Purel hand wash, and I am going to fetch a bucket. One hour after taking the antibiotic, he threw up all the Gatorade and the bite of bread. I told him water, and the Tylenol when he can. He's spitting up a lot of phlem. I am calling the hospital again. My friend sent me an AT&T calling card when all this started - 1000 minutes. I have 437 left. He wanted to know how fluid got out of your lungs. Now he knows. He's spitting it out. This time I give him anti-nausea medication. It will be a long night-------. -------------------------------- OK - Monday- we survived the night and the boy is sleeping. Sort of. Diarrhea, vomit, no food, weak, shallow breathing, racing heart. Just love this! I did look for the rosary but it refuses to be found. Must be a sign. Only other thing - I swear I took it to FLA - it could have been stolen which alarms me. That would make two. Very strange. But he's broken the fever - clammy now - keeping the heat down, when he wakes up I will have to get water into him. (Actually, he's had 1/2 a carton of bottled water so far.) He is still icky sick - and now hungry cranky. I went to the store with him sitting in a wet shirt, a wet washcloth on his head, crowned with Velcro-behaving ice cubes. I got him hard candy and Sherbet. And a soda for me. ---------------------------- Tuesday - He has a rash ---- he says there is hair growing out of it. Looks more like antibiotic reaction to me. Small patch however, so I will not be alarmed. I dropped him from school. I read the Devine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sister hood - you must read that!!! There is a second book. Must get that myself. I have codeine (cough) for him and Robitussin - dosed him up - he slept - now coughing up a lung. I am still planning to leave for work on Wednesday - fever height is reduced and two days home is enough. Contract people do not get sick days. ------------------------ Wednesday - I got to work for 5 hours and brought work home. He is having Sherbet whipped into a smoothie. On his second one. GREAT! Because sucking on hard candy (second trip to the store) and drinking water is not enough. He'll be too weak to put in the car for tomorrow's chemo run. I need a nap. Try continuous nap. Continuous being important. I need my house back to normal. I need normal work hours. Instead, I have a nearly 21-year old bundled up like a mummy under a dozen covers or lolling stark naked because he's overheated. Just when we thought he was doing so well! Just when I thought I could walk down the hallway and not have to avert my eyes. |
www.Donnamaie.com home page
For information about this file or to report problems in its use email dew@Donnamaie.com