The Time Warp

   

     We have determined that there is a time warp at the hospital.   Where when you enter, time has weird tendencies to go fast, slow and everything in between, but mostly slow.   Where a day can feel like a week, and sometimes an hour feel like just a moment.   Where you have to think really hard to try and remember what day of the week it is.   The world on the outside is proceeding as normal and you're in a weird version of the movie Groundhog's day.  We have talked with several of his providers and they agree that it affects them the same way when coming to work.   

    Here we are on Friday evening, together at Huntsman.   One of our worries when we knew Chris was going to be admitted was if I would be able to be with him and for how long.   We haven't had to be apart during his inpatient stays and we knew that restrictions were still in place.   We were so relieved and grateful when we found out that I'm able to be here with him, day and night .   I know that it provides Chris a significant amount of peace and comfort to have me here.  It relieves so many worries for both of us.   It's also so helpful for me to be able to know what's going on and stay caught up with and on top of the medications that he is taking.     It's also nice that I am able to bring a few things from home to make the stay more comfortable and provide relief to Chris in ways that otherwise would go overlooked.  Depending on how the next two days go, we are hoping to be back home sleeping in our own bed early next week.  

     There are three parts, but five drugs in this chemo.   Three of the drugs are mixed together in one bag.   It is a constant 24 hour IV.   He is nearly done with the second bag with two left to go.   His team did a lot of researching to make sure that they were as safe as possible.   His kidney's have been damaged by the myeloma so they have adjusted accordingly.  They are watching his levels like crazy and adjusting and adding fluids and other medications.   They test things all the time.   We are in the BMT section of the hospital.   One huge blessing about being on this floor is that his nurse is able to draw labs from his port.   During other stays even though he had an IV line they would still have other people draw labs requiring multiple blood draws and needle sticks.  

     There's still much to learn about what to expect with this chemo.   We know it can cause nausea, fatigue, and other side effects, but they have been great so far to try and prevent what they can.   The fatigue is starting to settle in, but Chris so far is in good spirits.  The affects will continue for the rest of the cycle and we know there is more that we will learn once he is discharged.  I'm sure we will be back regularly for more testing and medications.  His blood counts, such as white blood cells will likely really take a hit and he'll be super immune compromised.   He also may need blood transfusions.   

     So far we're both doing good and are hanging in there.   It may be just the two of us here at the hospital, but we know that we aren't alone and we sincerely thank those who have helped to lighten our load.  Thank-you to those who have sent messages, left voicemails, dropped by cards, sent gifts or money to help lighten our load.    We sincerely appreciate the prayers and well wishes, they really do make a difference.  

     His fragile immune system means we must be extremely careful.   Our efforts to be safe from covid have been good practice and we will be secluding yet a while longer.   We miss seeing everyone, but visits will have to be digital for the foreseeable future.   How blessed are we to live in a world where technology makes this so much easier.