The White Hat rides again

Dana and I arrived at Stanford yesterday afternoon, after waiting in SLO in the morning for the call that said a room was available. I have a nice single room, not as big as room 44 before and without the double doors, but I am not sick and they need that room for someone a lot sicker than I. Apparently we rushed up here to secure a bed more than anything else, because they can't do any chemo treatment until they get the actual slides from my gallbladder and bone marrow biopsies, which are in SLO. I wish there had been some way to get those to bring with us, but it is done.


So Dana slept in the osteoporisizer, a special cot they have for spouses that insist on hanging around. They were on clearance from Abu Ghraib. I got an IV with a bunch of saline solution and I am back to measuring my ouputs. The white hat (poop collector) awaits me. I had been having frequent bowel movements, but as soon as the white hat came out I clinched up like a sailor. Just like old times, Dana and I cruised around the hospital, and now she is out picking up a few things, and I have just finished hospital dinner.


Here is what we have learned that they are going to do. Since they found lymphoblastic cells in my gallbladder, they assume there are lymphoblastic cells elsewhere. They will break out the big guns and blast away for 3-4 weeks, shut the whole bone marrow down and then restart it. Then we find a bone marrow donor, probably a sibling, and in October or so I get a bone marrow transplant and everything is groovy. I will breeze through this, just like last time.


One difference is last time I was very sick when I got here, and this time I am not, at least my blood isn't. My blood tests have been fine all along, so the doctors here need to see the gallbladder and bone marrow to help them work up the specific chemotherapy regimen or cocktail they will give me. It is odd that these lymphoblastic cells were in my gallbladder, and a couple of spots of them on my liver, but they didn't show in any blood tests. I wonder if I will actually tolerate chemo better this time than last given the healthier start. Or, will it be worse, since this time I have further to fall.


This afternoon I talked them into removing the saline IV so I could walk around without the IV pole; I just promised to drink a lot of water. They were going to insert a PICC line today, but now I think that is tomorrow's job. They are getting small tests out of the way, so I had an ECG this afternoon, my heart is fine. All in all a most unevenful and boring day. I am going out to the garden now and read a book. Dana is still shopping! I think tomorrow the action will heat up - PICC line, nasty nasty big nasty chemos like danauribicin and who knows what else. And the white hat has been put away for the moment.


So far this has been like when back in junior high, one of the bad guys calls you out after school for looking at his girl, or for thinking you're cool or smart. You sweat it out all day long, and then after school you get all revved up, you're ready to go, you go over to the designated beating spot and nobody shows up. Tomorrow the action begins.