I'm free!

I'm so happy to see that Jordan did a couple of updates this week while I was unexpectedly confined to the hospital. I was released this morning in time for my 22nd radiation treatment. The clinic hit the panic button on Tuesday morning when they saw that my pulse was suddenly running 165 and was arrhythmic on top of that. So, they sent me to the emergency room instead of radiation. The emergency room did some additional testing and confirmed that I had a problem. I was admitted to Stanford Hospital in the cardiac wing. I felt fine through it all. After several interventions, my normal heart returned for six hours and then slipped back to arrhythmia. They tried several medications and by this morning, things looked more promising. So, I'm home recovering from three nights in the hospital. Those are the facts. The details are a lot more fun to talk about, but I need a night's sleep before I can describe the adventure.

Follow-up

Not much has changed since yesterday's post, although I am told that after a couple of blood transfusions yesterday (to counteract his low blood count which has led to anemia), my father is feeling a bit more energetic today. For periods his heart is back to its typical rhythm, but then becomes irregular again for long stretches. The doctors felt it was important to get back on track with radiation today, despite not knowing the cause of these cardiac issues. We hope to have more answers soon, and we are all anxious for him to return home, although I'm sure he will welcome this more than any of us.

Update on Bob

Back when my father started this blog and was scheduled to have surgery in late January, he asked me to fill in for him here with some updates for you while he was in the hospital. It has occurred to me today that perhaps I should fill in for a little while right now.

When my father went to Stanford yesterday for his treatments, the staff found that his heart rate was unusually high and somewhat irregular. After getting checked out in the emergency room, he was admitted to Stanford yesterday afternoon. I am sure my parents can fill in the details for you, but here is what I can tell you from Chicago. From what I understand he is feeling quite well. He is comfortable, slept well last night, and has been reading and watching TV. His heart was back to a normal rate yesterday evening and overnight, but was high again this morning. It seems he needs medication via IV to keep it under control right now. My parents will be meeting with a cardiologist today. This was not something they had expected as a side effect from radiation or chemotherapy, so it is a bit of a mystery to my parents. My father has been on a lot of asthma medication recently and we know that this makes our hearts race, but the medical staff doesn't feel this accounts for the problem.

One of us will continue to provide updates as we know what is going on. As my father has said, thank you for your support, thoughts, and prayers. Our whole family appreciates it.

Somewhat better

I improved each day over the weekend. The nausea is gone and the medication to control it is on the reserve list. That's a huge relief! I still experienced waves of weirdness. At some point, this morning, I looked out into the garden and saw a fantastic scene. Every color and the light itself was amplified by 25%. It was like moving from black and white to color in "The Wizard of Oz". I blinked. It was still there. I looked away because it was too intense to take in. I thought about the situation a minute and decided that I should just enjoy the moment. I pulled up a chair and enjoyed the show. It was marvelous! Finally it passed and came back as an amplification of my hearing. Every sound was 25% louder. I enjoyed that for a while by turning down the TV. Then, I felt tired and snoozed for 10 minutes. It got to be a game. Throw me something nasty and let me see if I can enjoy it. I won!

By noon, I decided to have a grand day out. Sharon and her sister took me to lunch at the Ritz in Half Moon Bay. I ate my largest meal in the past 10 days. We ate in the tea room that overlooks the ocean. This was the nicest day of the year so far. We saw temperatures in the 80's!

So, I'm ready to get going again tomorrow. A morning blood test along with blood pressure and weight will determine that I am ready to continue treatment. Last week, my blood pressure dropped dangerously low and several other indicators raised eyebrows. I think the better weekend will improve the numbers. We'll see.

Again, thank so much for your constant expressions of love and support. It means the world to me.

Beautiful Saturday Afternoon!

It's been two weeks since the final Cisplatin dose and five days since my last dose of Xeloda. The effects of chemo are beginning to wear off. My ears are only ringing a little. The nausea is mostly gone. The effects of radiation are more apparent. I need a lot of sleep. My esophagus and stomach are slightly sunburned and swallowing, even water, is painful. I have nine sessions of radiation beginning on Monday. So, I'm getting through it.

Whoa, I spoke to soon!

Just after my last post, I began to feel tired, nauseous. I was expecting to feel better, so we drove to Pacific Grove to enjoy the great weather and try to plan the remodel of the house. By the time we arrived on Friday afternoon, I felt horrible. I didn't improve. I had all the effects you can get and I hardly got off the couch. We came back Monday morning and saw the doctor. He was encouraging and thought it would help to stop the second chemo drug as well as the first. They gave me infusions of saline yesterday and today. I feel a little better today. This is the first moment that I could open my laptop and write something.

It's Friday morning. The past two days were uncomfortable, but I'm starting to feel better as the last dose of Cisplatin wears off. I met with the radiologist on Wednesday and an intern yesterday. They claim that I'm doing much better than could be expected to this point. Today's radiation treatment is the halfway point. I will have 14 more radiation days starting on Monday. They anticipate that I should do OK next week, but they warned me that the two following weeks of radiation will bring on fatigue, a loss of appetite, and difficulty swallowing. I'm beginning to feel some irritation in my esophagus from the radiation, but its not bad yet.

++++

The radiation machine has a nickname. Trillium. It's the size of a small car and it resides in a room the size of a garage. I walk in each day and climb onto a plastic mold of my back and head. I put my arms back over my head. I'm looking up and resting comfortably in the mold. Large green arms bring disks the size of a car tire within eight inches of my chest. I can the the reflection of my bare chest in the steel disk in front of me. My chest has fine green laser cross hairs marking the target right below my rib cage. It's an assassin's point of view.

Two technicians work to line up my body. "Give me a three millimeter role to the center", says one. My body moves slightly as they tug the sheet under me. The technicians go away. The machine starts to move quietly and smoothly. Precision. Various green arms bring new devices which quietly take pictures. The technicians appear again and move my hips about 1 inch to the left and disappear.

The radiation arm moves into place on the right side of my body and blasts me for about 2 seconds. It moves over my chest and blasts again for about 6 seconds. Then to my right for 3 seconds. Then underneath me and blast up through my back for another 5 seconds. I feel nothing. It's like getting a long xray.

"OK, you can relax your arms", he says from the safety of the control booth. I'm done.

I've seen the images they take. I can see every bone and organ in my torso. I can see the target areas. I can see the tumor. Even though the tumor is small, they are radiating about 3 inches on either side of it. They are also radiating related lymphnodes to be on the safe side. Amazing!