June Close-Out

 

June Close-Out

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin and Keytruda - and now Yervoy
On The Stereo:Trapeze: Patty Griffen

Another song, not much heard, contains wonderful metaphors, and a beautiful melody.  Please give it a listen. ( I make no money for these promos).

The week of June 14th was Kath's last week of teaching.  She had been in the classroom for the full year and was definitely ready for a break.  On Saturday of that very last week, six animals laid siege to our house.  Several were more exuberant than the rest.  Two adults, two children, and two dogs - one still quite young.  Kristin, Doug, Avet, Eli, Charlie Bucket, and the most rambunctious, their loving pup, Valkyrie (Val).

It was the most welcome castle overthrow ever performed.  Our home fairly jumped with the joy of family.  Loved ones not seen, or hugged, or kissed, in far too long a time.  Kat was teaching during the day, and I was not at the top of my game.  I spent much of the time with my left leg elevated on the couch.  The healing of my leg wounds and problems with circulation in my foot, was a necessary inconvenience.

The dogs were walked regularly and provided daily exercise for their entire family.  Doug helped resolve a number of unattended issues inside and outside the house.  He purchased and programmed a new universal remote for us, turning three devices into one.  Kathy had never figured out how to move from regular tv to Apple or Netflix and Prime.  Truthfully, that job had been difficult and annoying.  Far too many reasons to cover here.  We can now both manage our system.  Helpful if I am not around.  I told Kath that we need Alexa.  Then, she could say things like, "Alexa, ask Siri where to find Ted Lasso.  Or ask Dot."

Kristin and the boys went to the pool every day.  They swam laps, played, and had either lunch or a snack.  Doug worked at his job, and when he had time, he was a joy to be around.  When the teacher got home, we cocktailed, made dinners, and watched movies with the boys.

They left for home on Thursday morning.  Grammie had gone to school and I bade them goodby.  I cried for half an hour when they left.  Later, Kath said she sobbed all the way on her drive.  It was the best week we had shared in a year.  And it was, too soon, over.

On the 22nd, Kath and I made the morning trip to Moffitt.  A big day had been scheduled.  Labs (blood work) was first.  Then to a different location for two scans - my head - and my torso.  The first to address the success of Keytruda on the melanoma in my head, the second, to ensure there were no further damage to my organs.  Then, back to Moffitt for a meeting with the oncologist.  And then, up to the fifth floor, for my fourth infusion.  

After the scans, we had time for lunch in the cafeteria.  I had been fasting since dinner the night before.  And, eventually, the oncologist was ready to see us.

She asked if I had felt, or seen, any shrinkage in the swelling on my head, or in the lymph node, by my ear canal.  My head was hideous to behold.  Embarrassingly so.  I told her, I had not.

Then she opened the scanned pictures from earlier in the day.  The torso appeared to be fine, with some small inflammation in several places, which she thought to be resultant from the previous infusions.

My poor head, however, was a different story.  The Keytruda had provided no relief.  Totally unsuccessful.  In fact, my tumor had continued to grow at the same rate.  The situation was not at all good.

She said that I would be given no further treatments.  And suggested that my life expectancy was most likely a matter of weeks.  I had believed, myself, that the drug was not effective, but the prognosis was a shock.  I had been given life terms on prior occasions, as you know, but weeks?  Wow.

There had been an ongoing misconception that the Yervoy infusion treatment that I had received on my earlier clinical trial, had come later, after Opdivo. That is the new norm.  On the trial, I was in the group that was offered the drugs in reverse order.  I asked if that drug could be a possibility.  Dr. Eroglu thought that drug was too toxic, and she was under the belief that Opdivo, a similar drug to Keytrua, was responsible for my cure.  We had a lengthy discourse, after which, she reviewed the trial results and agreed that I might have a case.  Her concern was my well-being, as the Yervoy had caused me colitis and, eventually, near-death pancreatitis. 

Kath and I explained that I had "sailed through" the first dose, and that troubles began shortly after the second.  Exhaustion was the only side-effect of the first.  Steroids (Prednisone) would help reduce the swelling and pain, if we could survive until it was time for a second dose.  She reluctantly agreed, as her concerns were legitimate.  If my days were short-lived, she did not want me in further discomfort.  

She would schedule me for an infusion on the 25th, the earliest day possible.  In fact, I would have to be there first, as these things are scheduled weeks in advance.

We would head home, after 6, with more than an hour's drive.  It had been a long and rocky day.

My stomach had been causing me a lot of pain, for over a week.  The result of my infusions.  A normal occurrence, apparently.  Kath had called Moffitt on Thursday to ask for a steroid, and was told that the orders would be sent to our drug store.  

On Friday morning, very early, before the stars had gone to bed, we were, again, off for my Yervoy infusion.  There was already a back-up in the infusion center, and we were finally looked after about an hour and a half later.   

 By Friday night, the cavalry still had not arrived.  There was no notification from the drug store that my prescription was in. I had been having on and off bouts of cramps.

 At 2am, I was in the bathroom, my situation peaked,  with symptoms in full evidence.  Massive diarrhea also was problematic.  My stomach pain was intolerable.  We were up the rest of the night.  The next morning Kat called Moffitt and we were instructed to drive in to their emergency clinic right away.

We did so, and were taken in almost immediately, and put on saline drip.  I had completed the usual battery of tests and was then given multiple  additions of magnesium sulphate, sodium phosphate and sodium chloride.  Which took over three hours of infusion.  The Keytruda and bouts of diarrhea were thought to be the culprits.  My intestines were completely emptied.  Then, I was infused with a  large dose of Prednisone, with a prescription for more, over the next week.  The physician's assistant and doctor had reviewed my case - thoroughly - and were most interested in keeping me comfortable.  They, too, apparently believed my time was going to be shorter than one would like.

                                                                   Me on Saturday

We returned home about 7, after having stopped to buy a rotisserie chicken.  We had no dinner prepared, and we were both hungry.  It had been one more long day.  We were both burned out.  By Sunday, my intestinal issues had been resolved.  At least for the time being. What a relief.

So here we are, my friends.  Unsure of anything.

                                                                      Me on Sunday

I intend to continue to fight my dragon, with the love of my life at my side. 

 I am hopeful that the St. George I strive to be, does not become Don Quixote.  Our time is critical.  And precious.

We are home, together, living as best we can.  Alone, with each other, has been our ritual for over a year.  And we are alright with that.

As an apology, my Child Bride has tried to call some of our long-term personal friends, but has not been able to hold it together.  Forgive us.

We celebrate our 47th anniversary this Tuesday, with dinner at Bonefish Grill.

Love from The Sunshine State - - often with  afternoon rain as a chaser.

Next week, hopefully there will be only boring news to report.