“Don’t bail: The best gold is at the bottom of the barrels of crap.” So said the late Randy Pausch in his “Last Lecture” that I mentioned in an earlier post. Not that we have anywhere to bail, but it’s an appropriate message today.
My friend the accountant says the numbers in yesterday’s post are too confusing; what must the rest of you be thinking? I’ll try to clarify. In the short term, we want two numbers to go UP: the White Blood Cells and the Neutrophils. They were wiped out to nothing by the chemo, and when they go up it means the stem cells are engrafted. In the long term, we want the M-Spike to go DOWN, because it is the primary disease marker. And that’s all I’m going to say today about numbers.
As poorly as John is feeling, he is still able to get on the computer and visit the blog. And while we don’t respond directly to your messages, rest assured that he is reading and appreciating every one. We can also see who is visiting the site, and are grateful that so many continue to follow this story despite the tedium of medical details and misery of the reality that is cancer treatment.
Laughter is such great medicine. Looking for a diversion last night, we checked out “Meet the Parents” from the Pete Gross House video library. I hadn’t seen it for a few years, so the jokes were fresh again – the volleyball scene in the pool is a classic and triggered a healthy belly laugh for both of us. “Meet the Fockers” is next.
We’ve written about “chemo brain” and an inability to concentrate, and admittedly at times I worry about the effect of these poisons on John’s cognitive skills. He has been largely non-conversational for the last several days. At today’s clinic, after reviewing his blood draw stats, the nurse, PA and I all remarked that he sure looks good on paper. John’s retort was, “So does Alex Rodriguez.” I realize the joke is lost on all but the most hard-core baseball fans, but trust me; John’s wit is as quick as ever.
Marilyn
Good Blood, Bad Blood 