Sunday ~ Not Always a Day of Rest

I couldn't get in touch with Steve this morning.  Normally, he texts me before 9, earlier if it's good news.  If I don't hear from him after a reasonable amount of time, I contact him.  Today I had no luck (for the first time) and my mind started racing.  Eventually I phoned the nurse's station, and was told he was asleep on the couch/bed.   I decided to get here and get him going, as last night he backed out of any attempts to walk or shower because "you should do that in the morning."  He texted me at 10:45 that he was in a Benedryl stupor.  Fine, I thought, Sunday will not be a day of rest for you.

I had a wonderful, energetic drive to Northwestern, singing along (with a lil' dancing) to the radio, and clocked myself at 60+ mph as I went past Soldierzz Field.  

I walk in his room, dark as a cave, and all he has hanging are IV fluids.  His numbers are UP, and I am THRILLED to report....WBCs at 2.5/ANCs 2.1, Hemoglobin at 8.3 (Olympic!), and platelets at a sucky, but respectful 7.  He did have one bag of platelets up early this morning, hence the Benedryl buzz.  They are dialing down the Neupogen to one shot a day instead of two.  THIS is progress.  

He is like a hibernating bear, and about as pleasant as one when woken in mid-winter.  I yanked up the blinds, ordered orange juice and ice cream from the floor, and started my mission.  He is convinced he is going to be sick.   I called the nurse to hit him up with some Compazine to back up the Zofran.  He ate half of the ice cream, complaining about how I put the spoon in his mouth....then he drank one of the juices.  He is convinced he has to nap now.  I'm giving him 15 more minutes, and will risk certain verbal abuse when I go to Phase 2, the shower or the walk, you pick, Chemo Man!!

****Evening Update****  Well, the shower was the winner, but Steve felt really, really lousy.  He was so out of it that I feared more than once his legs might not hold him up, THEN what do I do?  I chose to feel guilty.  Decided to get his nurse, Maria, cornered out in the hall and have a chat.  She came in the room and the three of us had a good talk about how he felt, what meds he had been taking, and the mind/body connection (and I am gesturing to her when Steve isn't looking, the "crazy" spinning finger to my head sign).  She has been his nurse a lot lately, and is one of the older nurses, so she was very willing to team with us on a solution. 

Steve feels bloated, too many IV fluids.  His spleen feels tender, like a bruise, when he rolls on his left side.  He asked for some Dilaudid, got it, then took a big, snore-filled lip-flappin' nap.  It looked and sounded like the best sleep of his life.  Maria called the on-call physician, and got an order to reduce the IV fluid drip.  When he woke, his demeanor was changed.  I wouldn't say perky, but better.  "Hand me that fortune cookie from last night and that banana."  That will be his dinner.   Hoping for more good news tomorrow morning.