Three Down! (Mar. 31, 2006)

The next Friday, March 31, found Laurie feeling better than she'd felt at anytime during her chemo treatments. This was probably due to the fact that she got one extra week between treatments because of the last Friday's postponed treatment. Her appointment started early in the morning this time. Jim took her in and after the standard blood draw to check her blood counts, we headed upstairs to see Dr. O'Shaughnessy.

We could tell when Dr. O'Shaughnessy arrived in the exam room that we were going to be able to go ahead with the chemo treatment. The labwork showed perfectly normal bloodcounts and no indication of any infection. It was the shortest appointment we had had up to that time.

We headed down to the infusion lab with Laurie's folks and one of her friends, who had arrived while we were in with Dr. O. The wait was not as long as the last time. Jim had to go back to the Seminary for a meeting, and while he was gone, Laurie and the rest of the crew were called back to the lab.

The only change in Laurie's regimen was a fifty percent reduction in the Benadryl. We hoped Laurie wouldn't be nearly as jittery as her previous treatment and be able to rest more during the actual infusion.

Jim got back about lunchtime. Laurie was much more alert and much less loopy than before. But we still had a couple chuckles. We were just finishing some lunch when the infusion pump alarm went off. Laurie had inadvertantly crimped the IV line and the machine was letting us know that it wasn't working. The alarm must sound a little like one might expect some phone rings to sound. After a few beeps, Laurie, who had dozed a little, perked up and said, "Will someone please answer the phone!" She immediately drifted off again as the nurse fixed the IV. Funny, but she never did ask us who called. :-)

A little later, when the infusion of Taxotere, her first chemo drug, was finished, the alarm again went off, signaling the nurse to come and flush Laurie's system with saline before starting the Cytoxan. Laurie knew this, of course, as demonstrated by her not-so-lucid comment, "The Taxotere is finished, now they're going to flush me." The double entendre was not lost on us as visions of "toilet seat covers" danced through our heads.

The rest of the treatment was uneventful. We got home early that afternoon. Laurie napped a little, but otherwise was feeling great. She had a relaxing evening followed by a good night's rest.

The next morning revealed a Laurie who you'd think had nothing more coursing through her veins than a little glucose. We headed back down to the hospital for another shot of "liquid gold" (I mean Neulasta). It took us longer to walk from the car to the bone marrow lab than it took to get the shot. What a racket! The rest of the day was uneventful.

By Sunday afternoon, Laurie was starting to feel like she expected to feel after a round of chemo. By Monday, she described it as feeling like she'd been run over by a truck. By Tuesday, although a little tired, she managed to get back to the classroom at Scofield. Each day since has been an improvement over the day before. We've decided that we are actually going to get through this!

Three down, one to go! Thanks, again, Lord, for the strength to meet each day!

No "Chemo" Sabe (Mar. 24, 2006)

Before Laurie began her chemo treatments, her sister, Michelle, gave her a cute little stuffed monkey (no, not Jim!) she had named Key-Mo-Sabbi. The little fella has sat on the kitchen counter reminding Laurie of Michelle's love and support.

With apologies to Tonto and the Loan Ranger, I thought of that monkey the other day when Laurie found out she couldn't have her regularly scheduled chemo treatment on Friday, March 24. "No chemo today," Dr. O'Shaughnessy said. "No chemo," I thought, and "sabe" just kind of popped out. That was the last thing we wanted to hear.

You may recall from the last post that Laurie took a short trip to the emergency room the previous Monday because of a fever. The doctor found nothing suspicious and Laurie dutifully took the prescribed antibiotics. As we sat in the exam room, Dr. O'Shaughnessy listened as we described the fever events on Monday. She looked concerned and after a brief exam, thought she noticed some slight swelling. Not wanting to risk the possibility of a worse infection, Dr. O. decided postponing chemo was in Laurie's best interest. She also wanted Laurie to have a sonogram to check the swelling.

So, while Jim rushed off to the airport to catch a flight to Tampa to teach a course for the Seminary, Laurie, two of her friends, and her parents headed down to the breast imaging center to get the swelling checked out. By the time Jim landed in Tampa, the imaging department had discovered and aspirated a seroma about the size of a golf ball. A seroma is clear-fluid build-up in the area of the lumpectomy. We would later find out that the seroma was the likely source of Laurie's fever on Monday, but the antibiotics had eliminated whatever infection had been involved. Dr. O'Shaugnessy's concerns turned out to be well-founded.

Laurie went home that evening, continued on a new antibiotic, and we began to wait for the next Friday to try the chemo again.

Things sometimes don't go as we plan we discovered, but thankfully we know God's plan for us never fails. We take great comfort in that truth everyday we go through this ordeal.