TOXIC WASTE!!

Hanna is doing well and appears to be on track to a miraculous recovery.  In this picture, please notice her beautiful hair.

The cool chart below (cool, because us accountants LOVE charts like this) shows the level of misery the transplant causes and when.  The numbers are days.  The more the line drops, the more misery.  They call the bottom the "basement".  We are right now on Day 8.  Yes, in the basement.

And even though we are in the basement, Hanna is doing quite well.  Things are not nearly as bad as other MM patients that have gone before us have said they would be, nor as bad as the Transplant Team prepared us for.  This is all good.  The main symptoms Hanna (and me too, indirectly) have and are struggling with is massive fatigue and EXPLOSIVE TOXIC DIARRHEA.  She spends a lot of time sleeping, although some days are better than others.  Her endurance level has dropped significantly as well.  It is a struggle for her to walk 30 yards with her walker from the car to the picnic table at the Dog Park.  Yet it is important for her to "get up" each day, so she valiantly is doing so and has done well with that.  She also is forcing herself to eat.  Her favorite meal right now:  Cinnamon Rice Chex with protein powder and Oat Milk.  Anything that she can get down and that has protein and calories.

Our back yard has been declared America's newest and most potent Toxic Waste Dump!  If you think the Chemo Drug was toxic when they injected it into her, it is even worse when it comes back out.  The Chemotherapy has wreaked havoc with her digestive system causing this toxic waste situation.  (I feel bad for our neighbors and also the poor garbage dudes that have to take it away.)  They have her on meds for that; sometimes they work and sometimes they don't.  The realistic answer from yesterday's nurse was "this won't really resolve totally until your Stem Cells start producing new healthy white blood cells so those new blood cells can heal things".  (WBC in the chart above).  Currently, her blood work says her White Blood Cells are "too few to count."  She is learning a new level of patience.

This is the view from the Mayo Clinic Eisenberg Building, home of Station 9-4, the Outpatient Transplant Unit.  Looking North.  The home we are living in is in this direction, slightly to the right, just at the base of the hill.  Down in the trees.  And all the trees are changing colors.  We both are enjoying that.

Hanna is still fairly upbeat.  She still does a great job of trying to cheer up those around her.  Yesterday we crossed paths with a fairly sad-looking woman being pushed in a wheel chair by her husband.  She had on "the cap" which pretty clearly proclaims "there is no hair here because I have cancer."  Hanna hollered at her, as we passed, "I love that red color of your blouse.  You look so good in it!"  The old woman looked up, beamed, and looked like she might cry.  The husband's eyes met mine, and he nodded as if to say "thanks".  Attitude and service are key to beating cancer.

Hanna still basks in the small miracles she points out each day and loves seeing the Jesus pictures in the hospital.  Even at her most miserable point, she still thanks God for what she has and puts her life in His hands.  And she prays for everyone that is praying for us.

One day this week, she was taking an inordinate amount of time fixing her hair in the bathroom.  When she came out, she told me she was doing it up nice, adding product, getting it just right.  Just for me.  Because the day will soon come that her hair may fall out and she wants me to enjoy it while I can.  What a gal!  (Hair loss usually happens on Day 10.)

At times, since she doesn't have any super massive side effects, we believe that as soon as her White Blood Cells come back up, we will be released to go home, perhaps by the end of this upcoming week.  At other times, we wonder what is going to happen next and think that will not happen at all.  Right now, they tentatively have us checking out with Dr. Gertz on the 21st.  Taking our time to make arrangements, pack and drive, we would arrive back at home on the 29th.

We'll check in on this blog in about a week unless something dramatically good or bad happens that you need to know about.

Thanks for your prayers, cards, gifts, messages, and our favorite of all, pictures of our kids and grandkids.

Today's miracle:  Mouth sores.  Pain.  Vomiting.  Bleeding.  Infection.  Feelings of helplessness.  These are the very common and usual side effects that Hanna has NOT experienced at all.  (Although I credit the massive amount of popsicles she ate for the lack of mouth sores.)

Hanna's 2-Bits: The above painting at the entrance to the Transplant Unit touches me and reminds us that even though we might not see him there with physical eyes, Jesus, the master-healer, is with us in the daily Consultation influencing the medical decisions and healing all that needs healing. We feel the spirit of this image every time we enter the unit. What a blessing!