Day +6: Imprisoned

V. is imprisoned in her room. She's having bad diarrhea and they're keeping her isolated until they can determine the cause. Most importantly they have to rule out a nasty bug known as "c.diff". You can read more about it at the following link Vicki e-mailed to me: C. diff: A Hospital Germ on the Warpath - AARP Bulletin Today. Vicki thinks it is just a side effect from the chemo, but they can't give her any medication for it until they're sure. It's highly infectious so she has to stay in her room to protect the other patients.

Her blood counts are low enough that they've started giving her transfusions. Again, this is an expected and necessary development from the chemo killing off her bone marrow. We're entering the phase where she will be increasingly fatigued and vulnerable to infection, but so far so good!

Day +4: Did You Get the News? I'm Neutropenic!

One Step Closer to Home
Neutropenia; it's a bad thing, but also an expected result of Vicki's treatment. Her blood counts will need to completely bottom out to insure that the chemo completely killed the bone marrow and all the cancer cells with it.

This does mean that she is more vulnerable to infection and will be more fatigued, but that's why she's safe in the hospital where she can be supported until her body is able to grow healthy bone marrow from the transplant and then start producing healthy blood cells.

Christmas Was a Good Day

Vicki was feeling perky and well today, even well enough to have a goodly amount of her own lunch. It was cold in San Francisco, but clear and sunny, a beautiful day. We had music, nice things to drink and eat, presents, and a few good laughs.

We did skip one tradition, watching Bad Santa. I left the DVD with Vicki to watch later this evening, but only if she promises to wear headphones. Some of the dialogue is too rude to take the chance of somebody overhearing.

It was a pretty darn good Christmas after all.

Day +3: Christmas

That chemo is working hard, giving her a full body burning itch, a thick white coating on her tongue, and assorted other yuckiness, but our girl is working hard at keeping up her spirits.

The Hostess
She has planned a full day of celebrations for Jack and me. She's not doing much in the way of eating these days, but she ordered a big lunch from the hospital menu for us to share. She's planned a word game for us and informed me that she has an electric tea pot and a mini-fridge full of drinks for us as well.

Happy Holidays
I have everything I need and everything I want, save one; for our Dear Friend to be home, well, safe and snug in her own little nest. That will come soon enough. Until then, whatever your tradition or non-tradition, I wish for you what I wish for myself this Christmas day; peace, contentment, and hope.

Day +1: Tuesday

Day zero has passed. Vicki received five bags of stem cells yesterday. She's very tired, but she reports that she feels safe, well-cared for, and peaceful. She is expected to get a bit sicker, possibly more than a bit, from the effects of the chemo, but this is the healing phase. She's received all the anti-cancer treatment and "just" has to tough it out and stay infection free while her body heals itself.

Day -1: Sunday

Day -1
Vicki is doing surprisingly well with the chemo which is to say, she's sick as a dog instead of sick as a pack of dogs. She's had quite a bit of tummy trouble and blinding headaches, not getting much food down the hatch, but the medical team is giving her piles of meds to help with the side effects. She's graduated from vicodin to hillbilly heroin (oxycontin), but that's not doing much for the headache so the next step is dilaudid. The big D puts her into loopy land. After I got back from Hawaii she was on dilaudid when she was petting my arm and sighing, "You're so pretty."

Transplant Monday
Tomorrow is day Zero. The stem cells harvested last month will be transfused back into Vicki's body where they will populate her bone marrow with healthy, cancer free cells.

Today there was a visitor to the hospital, a woman who had her transplant three years ago at this time. She brought small gifts for all the patients. One was a coffee mug full of goodies and the other was the hope for recovery.

Psalms 30

When Vicki was at Mt. Diablo one of the nurses read the 30th Psalm with her. Vicki found great comfort and meaning in it and asks that we each read it in the spirit of support and unity.

Psalms 30

1. I will praise you, LORD! You saved me from the grave and kept my enemies from celebrating my death.
2. I prayed to you, LORD God, and you healed me,
3. saving me from death and the grave.
4. Your faithful people, LORD, will praise you with songs and honor your holy name.
5. Your anger lasts a little while, but your kindness lasts for a lifetime. At night we may cry, but when morning comes we will celebrate.
6. I was carefree and thought, "I'll never be shaken!"
7. You, LORD, were my friend, and you made me strong as a mighty mountain. But when you hid your face, I was crushed. I prayed to you, LORD, and in my prayer I said,
8. "What good will it do you if I am in the grave? Once I have turned to dust, how can I praise you or tell how loyal you are?
9. Have pity, LORD! Help!"
10. You have turned my sorrow into joyful dancing. No longer am I sad and wearing sackcloth.
11. I thank you from my heart, and I will never stop singing your praises, my LORD and my God.