How Low Can You Go?

   I guess I should have known better than to tempt fate by naming our last blog "Limbo".   It apparently tempted fate to lower the bar and push us even lower.   Nothing says Happy Birthday quite like a good friend and a team of full of firefighters in your room in the early hours if the morning helping you up off the floor because gravity + cancer has kicked you so hard you can't get up.  

     I should probably back up a bit, it's been a bumpy ride.   They finally got the approval and we started the Bendamustine last week.   When checking in for an appointment they were worried about how he was doing with such heavy tumor burden.   They talked about doing radiation, but while waiting for a consult for that they decide to have him to do a pulse dose of dex starting right away.   Four days of 40 mg of dex.   What a way to spend the weekend.   It was crappy.  But we were optimistic it would help.  They wanted to check on his blood numbers so scheduled an appointment for September 1st.   He felt slightly better on Monday and Tuesday we tried to just chill.   .  

    There is a common quote that is seen around the hospital about what cancer cannot do.   To be honest, it isn't my favorite and every time I see it I quickly pass on by thinking they made a good effort but missed the mark.   I think perhaps I should start one of my own.   Cancer pushes you to your breaking point, over and over.   Cancer has it's own timeline and will cause you to lose all track of time.   Cancer will scare the crap out of you.   Cancer observes no holidays.   Cancer is ugly.   

     After an eventful early morning we both were exhausted so we napped.   Then we had a nice visit from Chris's niece Carmen and her young baby.   Some neighbors brought over some delicious cookies and custard.   Then we napped some more.   He had a quick phone call with his Dad and his friend Scott.   Then he napped again.   I woke him up so that he could eat some of the amazing enchilada's that his sister in law from Montana figured out how to ship down to him.   Then afraid of going back to bed, we slept in the front room.   

      I had taken some time off work to be able to celebrate his birthday, and yesterday worked a half day in hopes we could do something fun.   Instead he again slept most of the day.   We attributed the tiredness to the chemo wiping out his numbers and gravity kicking his butt.   He said he was too tired to make it to the appointment, but I felt it was important for him to go so we slowly made our way to the door.   He was exhausted by the time we made it to the kitchen and we probably should have turned back.  But I encouraged him on, hoping that labs would help know how to help him.   

    He made it to the car, but was too exhausted to get in.  He crumpled slowly to the floor, pleading with me to call 911.  I don't make a lot of phone calls on my phone and my brain struggled to figure out how to dial.   Our connection was choppy and tears streaming down my face, it wasn't my best moment.  But the dispatcher sent help our their way and ended the call.   They took forever to arrive, but some of them recognized us from the day before.  While we waited I texted Dr Sborov unsure of what to do once they arrived.   They offered to bring him into the house, but I decided that even though that's what Chris would have preferred, the ER was probably best so that we could at least get labs to know what the problem was.   I threw our emergency bags with who knows what into the car and followed the ambulance to the hospital.  When we moved into our house I remember saying that it was nice to have a hospital so close, we had no idea how often we would be there.

     I had to wait in the waiting room while they got him situated.  Then eventually they brought me back.   He was a hot mess.   His blood pressure was super low, his pulse high and they couldn't keep the heart monitor stickers on because he was drenched in sweat.   They were drawing labs and cultures and started him on anti-biotics.  We eventually heard the words septic shock.   Someone came in and talked to us about admission.   They don't have overnight rooms in the hospital, so I thought another ambulance ride was in the works.   Instead we ended up hearing about AirMed.   Still struggling to stabilize him, they moved us into a bigger room with cabinets filled with all the necessities.   A chair for me sat on the side in the middle of the floor away from the cabinets.  I wrapped my arms around his discard shirts and tried to be out of the way.   With tons of people in and out, they hooked him up to more monitors.   The helicopter crew arrived and they were still waiting for confirmation for a room, but it eventually came.   Shortly after he was loaded in and took off.  It was a ten minute flight just about sunset.   

     I carefully drove up to the hospital, arriving about an hour after him.   He was all situated and had even had a visit from Dr Sborov.  Who according to Chris told him that he was very sick.  Chris was exhausted but the medications they had put him on had stabilized his blood pressure.  It was a long, sleepless, but relatively quiet night.   

     Today has been a busy day but little bit by little bit they have uncovered pieces of the puzzle.   The infections has been determined to be a staph infection.   They aren't quite sure where it came from. They tested for MRSA which luckily has come back negative.   He is still on medications to keep his blood pressure up.  His kidneys are angry, possibly more from TLS (Tumor Lysis Syndrome) which causes imbalance of your electrolytes as the dead tumor cells are processed through your system.  

     There were a ton of  people in and out of his room today, including Dr Sborov and Grace.   He's satisfied with the progress that is being made. I could see the cogwheels turning in his head as he contemplated the bigger picture.   He also called me Captain Obvious when he asked why Chris was still on Vasopressors and I told him it was to keep his blood pressure up.   He calmed my worries and told me multiple times that I did the right thing.  However I think my heart sunk a little and I was reminded again of how grave the situation is when he said that Chris wouldn't be around any longer if we hadn't acted when we did. 

    It feels like an eternity since we started making the journey out to the car, but in reality it was just 24 hours ago.   Thank-you to to everyone for your love, prayers and support.   We aren't out of the woods yet.  He will be in the ICU until they can get his blood pressure stable without vasopressors, then likely moved to a regular room until he is strong enough to go home.   With likely 4-6 weeks of antibiotics.