Today’s Harvest

Well, today was a long, long day, but hopefully a productive one. My blood counts continue to rebound – WBC is at 7,900 and the platelets are up to 33 (see a couple of posts down for the proper ranges). The best part? We were go for stem cell harvest!

Here’s the way the stem cell counting thing works. Dr. C’s magic stem cell number for me is 5 million. When the harvest is done, it takes a count of 10 million cells to have an actual harvest of 1 million. Therefore, my counts would need to be higher than 50 million to be able to do the harvest in one swell foop. My count? 57 million, baby.

Now, this doesn’t mean they have all that they need, so don’t uncross your fingers just yet. I find out tomorrow morning if I have to come back in for more harvesting. They were able to get the machine hooked up through my antecubitals (that inside part of your elbow where they draw blood), so they didn’t have to insert a line into my neck. Barb took many pictures which we’ll have up here in a bit.

Before the collection, I got another couple of Neupogen shots, which might help boost that 57 a bit, as well as one unit of blood.

Now, I have no problem seeing a big water balloon of blood above my head. I have no problem seeing the line come down and go into my port. I had no problem seeing the blood go in one arm, into the machine and back into the other arm. At some point, I had to move the tubes around a little bit, and that red bllod tube in my arm? It was… warm… That was quite unsettling to me, as we all know that warm = body temperature = HOLY CRAP, THIS IS THE BLOOD FROM MY BODY!!!

I felt I handled the revelation well, though. No screaming, no puking, no crying, just an occasional muffled whimper.

Oh, and I also realized what an idiot I was today. At one point during the collection, I had to go to the bathroom. When you’re hooked up to a huge filtration machine, you can’t just toddle off to the toidy any time you get the urge. I told my keeper and she brought me a urinal and pulled the drapes. Just before she left me to my business, she helped me get off of the stretcher and stand up. Shortly afterwards, the bright light of idiocy shined down upon my bald pate.

You see, I have rather limited hospital stay experience. My first extended stay and use of one of those handy dandy urinals was when my hip was dislocated back in ’94. I couldn’t move out of bed, so they gave me the bucket and I figured out how to use it. Thus it was when I was in the hospital for my last round of chemo. They had given me a strong diuretic in the middle of the night to try to calm my asthma attack, so they lined up a couple of urinals for me so I wouldn’t have to keep dragging my IV pole over to the bathroom. Working from prior experience, I… did my business… lying down like I had when my hip was dislocated. Only today did I realize : If my legs work, I can stand UP and use one of these! SO much easier!

Idiot.

A Comment on Comments

One quick request – I’ve had a couple of reports of people trying to leave comments who weren’t able to, but then I’ve had others who can. If you haven’t commented before (or even if you have), could you leave me a little note at the end of this? I’d suggest either keeping it short or saving a copy before you submit, just in case it doesn’t work – don’t want you to waste your time. If you try and it doesn’t work (keep in mind that it won’t show on the live site until it’s approved), I’d appreciate it if you clicked that “Contact Me” link on the right and let me know. I might wind up asking you a few questions about what happened. Thanks!

Carpet Matches the Curtains

Hey gang, I’m back. Well, I’ve been back for awhile, but I’ve been a bit too tired to get my thoughts together and post anything of note. The hospital stay’s still kind of a jumble in my brain and the time since then has mostly been spent sleeping. I do have a bit of recent news though, so I’ll let you guys in on it.

Since getting out of the hospital, I’ve been having two Neupogen shots a day. These are the shots that boost your white blood cells, like Neulasta but a smaller, more controlled dose. Over the weekend I got the shots down at Yale and on Sunday they drew bloodwork on me. Typical white blood count should be between 4,000 and 10,000. My white blood count was 900. Platelets? They were bad too. They were at 39 and the normal is from 100 to 150.

Anyway, this is bad news. I stand a big chance of getting infected by stuff and/or bleeding all over the place. Good thing my hair’s gone so I don’t need to shave. On Monday, we did more bloodwork (can’t clot well? Let’s stick a needle in you!) and things were better. My WBC doubled up to 1,800, but my platelets dropped to 21. Apparently 20 is the magical barrier where they do a blood transfusion on you, so I got out of having that done yesterday.

The good news? Even though my WBC is still in the basement, its doubling and the fact that my back has been killing me since Monday morning means that I’m currently a churnin’ burnin’ stem cell factory. In a mere couple of hours I’ll be down at Yale where they’ll be drawing some more blood to see if the situation is ripe to start harvesting stem cells. Hot diggity doodley!

So now that I see the time, I guess I’d better wrap this up and start getting ready to leave.

Leaving for the Hospital

Well, it’s that time – I’m leaving work to go get checked in to the hospital. Don’t worry though, I’ll have a special guest blogger keep you all up to date – Barb!

Don’t miss me too much…

Lace ‘Em Up, One More Time

Well, last night I didn’t get home quite as early as I wanted. It was getting dark pretty quickly, so I grabbed a bag full of pucks and went out back to shoot some around. My wrist shots were pretty snappy and surprisingly accurate. My slap shots, however were wild to the point of dangerous. Anything within about a 270 degree arc of me was fair game. I only tried about ten slappers all told. We have new garage doors and while I was shooting with my back to them, you read how wild my slap shots were.

I got in about 40 or so wristers before I had to call it a night on account of darkness. Black pucks on black asphalt are really hard to see in the dark.

I was feeling pretty good, but this morning my back was feeling the workout. Especially after I sat at my desk for a bit and then stood up to walk anywhere. Holy crapoley. Regardless, I made a point of getting out the door right on time tonight. I made it home with enough time to get on my gear and actually do some skating. That’s what I’ve been hoping for all week. I’ve had work stuff taking up my weekend hours and I was starting to think I wasn’t going to get to skate before I went in to the hospital.

Luckily, I got to have one more skate. Who knows how long it’ll be before I get another. I’m getting admitted into the hospital on Thursday and will be there through Monday. Then I’ll probably be too tired to get out of bed for a few days. Plus, I’ll have to be getting my blood checked every couple of days. The comes the stem cell harvest. Then comes the high dose chemo. Then comes the hotel room confinement. Then comes the re-strengthening.

Then comes the hockey season.

Oh Yeah – I Made It

Almost forgot to mention that I made it through last night – the house didn’t kill me after all. I think it’s just biding its time. I woke up around 8:30 this morning ’cause I could feel a presence in the room. It was Barb. I guess her Spidey-sense must’ve been going off last night, so she came home early. Yay!

Imagination… is Funny

Okay, so my imagination works a little too well at times. Because of this, I’ve often been hosed when it comes to being alone in the dark. My ears hear a noise and my brain starts going crazy, thinking of all of the horrid mundane and supernatural things that could have caused it. This old house (our house, not the TV show) doesn’t help very much.

Barb is in Boston tonight. I’m here alone in Hartford. I’ve been up a little too long, so my mind and ears are having a blast. Ever see the Simpsons where Marge left Homer alone with the kids and when she got home, there was a huge hole in the front door and Homer and the kids were hiding behind the couch, scared out of their minds?

Welcome to my world.

Now, I was preparing for things to go a little crazy tonight, just because I learn from the past. There’s one thing I didn’t count on. You see, there’s one room in the house I’ve never liked. I’ve just gotten a bad vibe every time I’ve gone in there. I affectionately call it The Room of Evil. If I’m alone, I stay out of there and keep the door closed. If I have to go in the room, I go as fast as I possibly can.

Is it possible for a second floor room to be built over an indian burial ground?

So tonight, just a mere few minutes ago, I decide it’s time to turn in. Flashlight? Check. Hockey stick? Check. Backup hockey stick? Check. I’m settling under the warm covers, ready to be lulled to sleep by the hum from all of the lights on the second floor burning brightly, when all of a sudden…

CRASH!!

Actually, much louder than that, but I’m too freaked out right now to mess with my CSS.

I grab a stick, find my glasses, put on my slippers and investigate. A picture just up and decided to fall off the wall. Makes perfect sense. And where was the picture? Outside The Room of Evil.

Bloody Hell.

Just know that if I happen to not make it through the night, it wasn’t the cancer that killed me. It was the house.

Speaking of Armies…

Since I had to break out my camera a little while ago (a long story involving bad power supplies, idiot scanners and a million fonts), I finally took a picture of the package I got in the mail a bit ago from The Regulars. If you wanna see the big picture, click the little one.

Regular Goodness

Inside was a strip with three Regulars-logoed stickers, a photo and the now-expected password hint paper. Unfortunately, my hint is for the number seven in the second slot, which has already been figured out. Now we all just have to sit around with bated breath until the next recipient posts their hint.

As for the photo, it’s markered with the phrase “Where are we going?” in the lower left corner. The photo itsels if of a map of London with the National Portrait Gallery circled. Upon receipt, I zipped over to the gallery’s online presence to try to find a clue, but it was no help.

Or was it?

Taking the Mantra to Heart

Well, I’ve taken my first step in the “It’s not Art” revolution. I was originally waiting until I had the whole site redone before I added a link to survivor’s blogs, but today I said the hell with it. It doesn’t have to be pretty (yet), it just has to be there. So, if you look over to the right there, you’ll see a list of people who have either beaten Hodgkin’s or are in the midst of the battle. More information about the list can be found by clicking that first link. If you know of someone with The Hodge who’s keeping track of their progress online, click that “Add Me!” link at the bottom and send me the info. The more members we have in the Hodgkin’s Army, the better.

Of course, if we suddenly had no more recruits because this thing was beaten, that would be even better still.

It’s not Art.

I had one of those “stuck behind an idiot in the faster lane” revelations this morning on the way to work. Basically I have a new second mantra that deals with the non-cancerous portion of my life.

Let’s go back a bit. You see, I have ADD. One of the symptoms of this is getting very easily overwhelmed by things. At least for me, that’s a biggie. One of the ways I do this is by paying attention to all of the little miniscule details of things, especially anything creative. Then, if I have more than one creative thing to get done, I see all of these miniscule details, shut down and don’t do anything.

It’s not Art.

That’s what I’ve decided to start trying to tell myself. I realized this morning that I always take some Higher Approach to anything creative I do, like it’s going to wind up in MoMA or something. Photography, woodworking, sewing, programming, designing, writing… I never quite do these things for myself. There’s always this Other who will eventually see and judge everything I do. Why? Because it’s Art!

Idiot.

So now I’m going to try to leap over this huge mental obstacle of mine so I can actually get things done and possibly enjoy doing them.

That would be quite a change.