Loretta had to be admitted into the UW hospital late Monday (25 March) due to a lack of white blood cells.  She had a fever Monday afternoon that was above the threshold for calling the Oncologist.  They wanted her to go to the clinic and have her white cells counted.  They found both of them and they were sick.  To prevent her from getting something really bad while she had no defenses, they wanted her to go to the hospital immediately to have IV delivered antibiotics and to be monitored.

That is where she is now.  David and I took her (David was going to take her in an ambulance, we took the 4Runner) and she sent us home.  She has her own room and says that the docs that she has seen and the nurses are all great.  We had to leave prior to the docs showing up.

She has had a couple of chest X-rays today (I guess it is still there) and they are actually using the port that is still surrounded by technicolor bruising.  When we left she didn’t have a fever so maybe we’ll be able to take her home tomorrow.  I will go back in the morning to sit with her and bug the nurses.  I’m sure she will write something up tomorrow when I give her her Chromebook back.

Once again, several wonderful people stepped up to make sure that Loretta was properly taken care of.  I can’t thank you all enough!

Yup, in the hospital. Turns out that when they say they are going to kill off your white blood cells they actually mean it. So she is here getting IV antibiotics. More details to come.

After 14+ hours, we are headed home.  Loretta did really well.  She has her new parts (port) and a load of chemicals that will last her two weeks.  Everyone at SCCA was great, but I still don’t recommend going there unless you have to.

Loretta is going to feel sore and maybe a little tired tomorrow but that should get better as she heals from the port surgery.

That’s one down.  15 chemo to go.

We have gotten into the “Infusion Center” which is a rabbit warren of little rooms filled with people who are paying lots of money to be poisoned in very particular ways that were dreamed up by people who went to school for far too long.  A big Thank You to all of them.

We have been in the room for 90 minutes and all Loretta has gotten is stuff to protect her from the effects of the stuff they are about to give her.  Most of it is anti-nausea medications that try to counteract the effect of having your entire gut attacked by the chemotherapy drugs.  All of this is accompanied by gallons of salt water which makes the bathroom a very popular place.  Imagine a line of people, some with hair, all pushing a groaning, beeping, clanking IV tree with multiple bags, syringes and electrical devices.

Actually, it isn’t like that at all except for the bathroom being very popular, the IV trees with the groaning, beeping and clanking electronics hanging with multiple bags and syringes of clear and brightly colored fluids and some of the people do, indeed, have hair.  It isn’t an unpleasant place and there are plenty of bathrooms.  AND, there is a room called the “Nutrition Center” that has a lot of fun snacks and drinks for the patients.  You gotta love a place with a free kitchen.  I’m thinking about swiping and cheese stick or two.

Anyway, now it’s time for the real chemo.  Bright red so you know to stay away from it.  The people who have to handle it always wear gloves and cover themselves with plastic.  Once they have double- and triple-checked that the right poison is in place for the right person, they pump it straight into Loretta’s heart.  It’s all very exciting.

We scored a couple of lounge chairs on the third floor.  They give you a pager so you know when your table is ready.

Doing the MUGA.  First, they take out some blood and make it radioactive.  Then they put it back in and take pictures.  They take three angles with an exposure time of about 5 minutes each.  I’m sure there is a lot of post processing on the images because what is on the screen it’s pretty ugly:

That lump is Loretta’s heart.

Loretta is resting (maybe not very comfortably) in the prep room for the Nuclear Imaging area. They are running a little behind (which is surprising – they are normally right on time if not early). Updates as they occur.

As I write this, I realize how hard it would be for a 24 hour news channel to fill the time. I knew it was hard from my past life in the TV biz (it was called the “voracious beast” in the days when you just had to fill 30 to 60 minutes per day) but I was never the guy in charge of planning what the content would be. No wonder the media is full of useless (or worse) content. This blog reminds me of that.

Today is Loretta’s first day of chemotherapy.  Of course, it isn’t that easy.  First, she has to have a port installed so they can start pouring various chemicals into her.  The port procedure is fairly short – maybe 45 minutes.  The prep for it has been 2+ hours.  The port is essentially an I/O (input/output device) that links the outside world with a spot in her vein right above the first input valve of her heart.  They like it there because it is “very turbulent” and there is a lot of blood going by very quickly so the really nasty chemicals to come are dispersed very quickly.

Once it is in, they will let me back in to see her for a few minutes.  Then it is off to make her radioactive (again) to get a baseline for her heart function.  I’ll post another exciting update after I’ve seen her.

[Update] She’s out and all went well.

This is what the port looks like:

The wedge-shaped thing is where external needles go and is implanted against her pectoral muscle on the left side. The tube goes up and over her collarbone then down the jugular vein to her heart.