Two down, two to go

I picked up Steve after Storm Nemo (you might have heard about NEMO) ended on Saturday afternoon. He was anxious to get out of the hospital and was just squeezing the last drops of red blood cells from a blood transfusion he was receiving.

The hospitalization went smoothly with chemo every other day. Although uneventful, it was stressful and exhausting and Steve couldn't wait to go home. On Sunday, he spiked a fever, like he did the last time he finished up with the chemotherapy. We called his doctor and she told him to go to the emergency room where he would be admitted for a few days of antibiotics. "Let's wait," he said. And so instead of listening to our quarterback and going to the hospital, we took his temperature over and over while watching about five hours of T.V to distract us from worrying about whether this was an infection or not. About an hour into the three hours of Downton Abby, his fever went down. Like last time, we think his fever was a reaction to the chemotherapy.

Fortunately the fever turned out to be nothing. But his doctor asked him to listen to her, and we assured her that if there's another fever, she's calling the plays. And while Steve is still looking pretty good for all he's been through, I think I can tackle him and get him into the car if he's feverish. Usually he's a team player, but as he said today as he put on his mask and dragged himself into the Cancer center for one of the daily visits this week (sometimes twice daily), "We are going to sick of this. I'm already sick of it!"

His bone marrow is also tired of it, and already is depleted despite having just finished up the chemo on Saturday. He's needed three blood transfusions since Saturday, and his white count is already dangerously low. As insane as this treatment is, the effects on his bone marrow is the reaction the doctors want.

We are now approaching half-time and he's doing well. He is scheduled to return for dose three on March 4th, but in the event that his blood counts haven't recovered by then (which is likely), the treatment will be delayed. We're doing all we can to prevent complications  -- avoiding crowds, no lifting couches, staying on top of potential problems-- we don't want to drop the ball at this point; he's already done so much to get cured of this thing.

Nemo casualty -- the guy who plows for us slid off the driveway. With the help of his friends, and a sturdy maple tree in the driveway, he was able to winch the truck up onto the driveway. 

As for shoveling, shoveling angels showed up on Saturday and this morning! Thank you!! 

Visualize Steve here at the cancer center several times a week. It is his life-line.