Saturday, August 31, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Don't blink or you will miss it
There is a lot of hype about the day a bone marrow cancer patient receives his bone marrow transplant. It is called "Day 0" and "your second birth day". Prior to the big day the patient has a round of very aggressive chemotherapy to kill all the cancer cells, which pretty much kills all their bone marrow cells also. With the aggressive chemo comes a lot of other aggressive drugs to protect your body from the chemo. At times Eric's IV pole has looked like an over-decorated Christmas tree with numerous IV bags and pumps taking up every available inch.
Yesterday, Day 0, his second birthday day, Eric didn't have a moment to himself. In preparation for the bone marrow transplant he had even more pills to swallow, IV bags to be hung, injections into his central line to be given, vital signs to be taken. Every time Eric tried to take a nap something new needed to be done or his IVs would start beeping. It was a long day.
Finally, after all the build up, at 6:00 p.m. the Red Cross representative came in with a large box that contained Eric's bone marrow transplant. He very non-dramatically pulled out two small IV bags partially filled with bright red blood. Our nurse hooked one up to Eric's IV and in 10 minutes it was gone. He hooked up the next one and it disappeared just as fast. It was all over before 6:30!
That's it? It all happened so quickly that it was a bit anticlimactic. I don't know why they call it a bone marrow transplant because it is not bone marrow and it isn't a transplant. It is stem cells dripping from an IV bag, which makes it an infusion. It was so unremarkable that Eric could have easily slept through it.
And yet, because of something that seemed pretty small and unremarkable, something barely noticed amid all the other medical interventions and interruptions going on that day, Eric's life has been changed. The bone marrow transplant team make no promises, but if things go well Eric has a fifty percent chance of being cancer free in five years. There will be some ups and downs along the way, but Eric's life has been extended. Pretty amazing.
Eric said it reminded him of the various scriptures where we are told that things that may seem small to us are the means the Lord uses to accomplish amazing things. Two of my favorites are:
Book of Mormon, 1 Nephi 16:29 . . . And thus we see that by small means the Lord can bring about great things.
Doctrine and Covenants 64:33 Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.
Yesterday, Day 0, his second birthday day, Eric didn't have a moment to himself. In preparation for the bone marrow transplant he had even more pills to swallow, IV bags to be hung, injections into his central line to be given, vital signs to be taken. Every time Eric tried to take a nap something new needed to be done or his IVs would start beeping. It was a long day.
Finally, after all the build up, at 6:00 p.m. the Red Cross representative came in with a large box that contained Eric's bone marrow transplant. He very non-dramatically pulled out two small IV bags partially filled with bright red blood. Our nurse hooked one up to Eric's IV and in 10 minutes it was gone. He hooked up the next one and it disappeared just as fast. It was all over before 6:30!
That's it? It all happened so quickly that it was a bit anticlimactic. I don't know why they call it a bone marrow transplant because it is not bone marrow and it isn't a transplant. It is stem cells dripping from an IV bag, which makes it an infusion. It was so unremarkable that Eric could have easily slept through it.
And yet, because of something that seemed pretty small and unremarkable, something barely noticed amid all the other medical interventions and interruptions going on that day, Eric's life has been changed. The bone marrow transplant team make no promises, but if things go well Eric has a fifty percent chance of being cancer free in five years. There will be some ups and downs along the way, but Eric's life has been extended. Pretty amazing.
Eric said it reminded him of the various scriptures where we are told that things that may seem small to us are the means the Lord uses to accomplish amazing things. Two of my favorites are:
Book of Mormon, 1 Nephi 16:29 . . . And thus we see that by small means the Lord can bring about great things.
Doctrine and Covenants 64:33 Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Happy Birth Day
Eric's mother, Joyce Olson, passed away almost a year ago. She was an amazing woman. I don't have room to list all of her qualities, but one that was very important to me was her generosity. From the moment I met her she welcomed me into her home, her family, her life. I never felt like an outsider, or even an in-law, but was always treated as a daughter. Joyce had the ability to make everyone feel comfortable because she was so generous with her time, her attention, her love.
Eric is one of eight siblings. One sibling has had cancer and was ineligible to be a stem cell donor for Eric. Five were tested at LDS hospital within a few days of each other, and it was assumed that several would be partial matches. With a partial match they could manipulate the blood to make it compatible with Eric's blood. Not the best solution, but a manipulated partial match is better than no match. To everyone's surprise none of the five were even close to being partial matches. That left Debbie, who was out of state and having a hard time getting her cheek swab accepted by the BMT (Bone Marrow Transplant) clinic because of some bureaucratic mix ups. They finally received her swab and were shocked to find out she was a perfect match. So Eric isn't even close to partially matching five of his siblings, but is a perfect match with one sibling.
The interesting thing about Debbie is that of the five daughters of Joyce Olson, she is the only one who bears her name. Debra Joyce. And Debbie is just like her namesake in her generosity. Debbie has a million and one wonderful things that she does to help others, but she took a break from them all so that she could be Eric's stem cell donor. It has been expensive, time consuming, and hard on her physically. And yet Debbie has cheerfully gone through a very tough few days and tried to laugh it off to make us feel better about it. She doesn't want us to feel bad about how hard it has been on her or know how much it has inconvenienced her.
The BMT unit calls today, the day Eric received Debbie's stem cells, "Day 0". They also call it the "second birth day" for stem cell recipients. That is because it is the day they have another chance at life. Almost 60 years ago Joyce Olson gave birth to Eric. And today her daughter, Debra Joyce, gave Eric his second chance. Giving birth is hard, something to be endured through the pain, but with the promise of a great reward afterward. Eric and I are so grateful for the generosity of the women in the Olson family who have now given him two opportunities to live.
Eric is one of eight siblings. One sibling has had cancer and was ineligible to be a stem cell donor for Eric. Five were tested at LDS hospital within a few days of each other, and it was assumed that several would be partial matches. With a partial match they could manipulate the blood to make it compatible with Eric's blood. Not the best solution, but a manipulated partial match is better than no match. To everyone's surprise none of the five were even close to being partial matches. That left Debbie, who was out of state and having a hard time getting her cheek swab accepted by the BMT (Bone Marrow Transplant) clinic because of some bureaucratic mix ups. They finally received her swab and were shocked to find out she was a perfect match. So Eric isn't even close to partially matching five of his siblings, but is a perfect match with one sibling.
The interesting thing about Debbie is that of the five daughters of Joyce Olson, she is the only one who bears her name. Debra Joyce. And Debbie is just like her namesake in her generosity. Debbie has a million and one wonderful things that she does to help others, but she took a break from them all so that she could be Eric's stem cell donor. It has been expensive, time consuming, and hard on her physically. And yet Debbie has cheerfully gone through a very tough few days and tried to laugh it off to make us feel better about it. She doesn't want us to feel bad about how hard it has been on her or know how much it has inconvenienced her.
The BMT unit calls today, the day Eric received Debbie's stem cells, "Day 0". They also call it the "second birth day" for stem cell recipients. That is because it is the day they have another chance at life. Almost 60 years ago Joyce Olson gave birth to Eric. And today her daughter, Debra Joyce, gave Eric his second chance. Giving birth is hard, something to be endured through the pain, but with the promise of a great reward afterward. Eric and I are so grateful for the generosity of the women in the Olson family who have now given him two opportunities to live.
Monday, August 26, 2013
A small insight
In the New Testament there are examples of feet washing--either someone washing the Savior's feet, or Him washing the feet of his disciples. I have usually heard these verses taught with the theme of repentance, humility, or service, depending upon who was doing the washing. The person teaching the lesson almost always points out that only servants, the lowest of the low, wash feet.
I have always thought there was a certain "ugh" factor to washing feet. Feet are smelly, dirty, and fairly ugly. No wonder only servants wash feet, and if anyone else chose to wash feet, they were doing it to prove a point. It was distasteful and demeaning to them, but they would swallow their pride and do something for the greater good and to set an example.
Once Eric's cancer kept him at home, he started wearing flip flops instead of shoes and socks. His feet quickly dried out and his heels began to crack. One day Eric asked me if I would rub some lotion on his heels because he was in too much pain to bend far enough to put the lotion on himself. I said sure, and several times a day I would rub either lotion or vaseline onto Eric's feet.
Last night at the hospital Eric told me that the nicest thing about his cancer has been me "playing around" with his feet. It hit me that I didn't resent it all, and it wasn't distasteful to me. I actually enjoyed it and would also rub lotion on his legs that were so dry and tired and painful. I suddenly realized that I have been missing the point of the New Testament stories of washing feet. The woman washed the Savior's feet because she loved him. The Savior washed his disciples' feet because He loved them. It wasn't distasteful, or demeaning, or something to be endured in order to make a point and set an example. It was a gift freely given.
I have always thought there was a certain "ugh" factor to washing feet. Feet are smelly, dirty, and fairly ugly. No wonder only servants wash feet, and if anyone else chose to wash feet, they were doing it to prove a point. It was distasteful and demeaning to them, but they would swallow their pride and do something for the greater good and to set an example.
Once Eric's cancer kept him at home, he started wearing flip flops instead of shoes and socks. His feet quickly dried out and his heels began to crack. One day Eric asked me if I would rub some lotion on his heels because he was in too much pain to bend far enough to put the lotion on himself. I said sure, and several times a day I would rub either lotion or vaseline onto Eric's feet.
Last night at the hospital Eric told me that the nicest thing about his cancer has been me "playing around" with his feet. It hit me that I didn't resent it all, and it wasn't distasteful to me. I actually enjoyed it and would also rub lotion on his legs that were so dry and tired and painful. I suddenly realized that I have been missing the point of the New Testament stories of washing feet. The woman washed the Savior's feet because she loved him. The Savior washed his disciples' feet because He loved them. It wasn't distasteful, or demeaning, or something to be endured in order to make a point and set an example. It was a gift freely given.
One week down, just a few more to go
A week ago Eric was admitted to LDS hospital. Since then he has received five doses of aggressive chemotherapy, with the last one administered early Sunday morning. He is now done with chemo. Today and tomorrow there are not any scheduled medical events. Wednesday Eric receives his stem cell transplant from his sister Debbie, who started receiving daily injections to stimulate stem cell growth in her blood on Saturday.
Eric is doing great. The anti-nausea drugs are really helping. He is still walking his laps three times a day and is taking care of all of his daily needs on his own. I have been so impressed with how well he has done!
Thank you for your prayers!
Eric is doing great. The anti-nausea drugs are really helping. He is still walking his laps three times a day and is taking care of all of his daily needs on his own. I have been so impressed with how well he has done!
Thank you for your prayers!
Saturday, August 24, 2013
And now we know the chemo is working
Eric has done amazing well through this whole cancer journey, including incarceration (I mean voluntary confinement) in a very small hospital room. I never thought he would adapt so well to living in such a small space, but I guess fatigue, pain killers and sleep deprivation have helped immensely.
In fact, he has done so well that on Friday afternoon, after having three rounds of killer chemo on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, we were beginning to wonder if the chemo was even working. Then two of our sons joined us for a lovely picnic on Eric's bed. They brought very fragrant Italian take-out which filled the room with an incredible aroma. And suddenly we knew the chemo was working.
Stephen, Michael and I (and our lovely Italian take-out) were banished to the waiting room and the nurses rushed in with heavy duty anti-nausea medication. Eric threw up several times, something he has not done for over 30 years.
So now we know. The chemo is working. Fortunately we live in a wonderful era of modern medicine. The anti-nausea meds have worked great today. Unfortunately they also put Eric to sleep almost immediately. So we call the cafeteria and the nurse at the same time so that his food comes after the medication but before he falls asleep. Eric has been able to eat something at each meal and keep it down, but he has slept most of the day. The nurse told him he could choose: vomit and stay awake, or keep food down and sleep. Eric was amazed that he could just sleep through the days of nausea, so I am now married to Rip Van Winkle.
Eric has a self-imposed goal of walking three times a day for 30 minutes. So even though the medicine was putting him to sleep, we did our walks. First time I have ever seen anyone sleep walking. And that is the truth. Our nurse just laughed every time we passed her.
I just wanted to let you all know that we are doing great. After a few months of not sleeping, Eric is now sleeping like a baby. (Where does that phrase come from? None of my children slept that great when they were babies.) He is maintaining his weight, knows there are medications to control the nausea, is pretty much pain free, and is looking forward to hiking in southern Utah.
Eric's sister Debbie received her first injection today to stimulate the production of stem cells in her blood. It was great to see her at the hospital today! Wednesday is the big day, and we are so grateful to have made it this far with so few problems. Thank you for your prayers. We know we have been blessed.
In fact, he has done so well that on Friday afternoon, after having three rounds of killer chemo on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, we were beginning to wonder if the chemo was even working. Then two of our sons joined us for a lovely picnic on Eric's bed. They brought very fragrant Italian take-out which filled the room with an incredible aroma. And suddenly we knew the chemo was working.
Stephen, Michael and I (and our lovely Italian take-out) were banished to the waiting room and the nurses rushed in with heavy duty anti-nausea medication. Eric threw up several times, something he has not done for over 30 years.
So now we know. The chemo is working. Fortunately we live in a wonderful era of modern medicine. The anti-nausea meds have worked great today. Unfortunately they also put Eric to sleep almost immediately. So we call the cafeteria and the nurse at the same time so that his food comes after the medication but before he falls asleep. Eric has been able to eat something at each meal and keep it down, but he has slept most of the day. The nurse told him he could choose: vomit and stay awake, or keep food down and sleep. Eric was amazed that he could just sleep through the days of nausea, so I am now married to Rip Van Winkle.
Eric has a self-imposed goal of walking three times a day for 30 minutes. So even though the medicine was putting him to sleep, we did our walks. First time I have ever seen anyone sleep walking. And that is the truth. Our nurse just laughed every time we passed her.
I just wanted to let you all know that we are doing great. After a few months of not sleeping, Eric is now sleeping like a baby. (Where does that phrase come from? None of my children slept that great when they were babies.) He is maintaining his weight, knows there are medications to control the nausea, is pretty much pain free, and is looking forward to hiking in southern Utah.
Eric's sister Debbie received her first injection today to stimulate the production of stem cells in her blood. It was great to see her at the hospital today! Wednesday is the big day, and we are so grateful to have made it this far with so few problems. Thank you for your prayers. We know we have been blessed.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
So far, so good
Just a quick update to let you know that things are going well. Eric had a dose of chemo Tuesday morning, and then another dose this morning. He will have three more doses the next three days. So far he is feeling better than expected. His pain is well controlled, he is eating despite food not tasting nearly as good as it used to, and hasn't had any bad side effects from the chemo yet.
Eric has adjusted well to hospital life. He is up early, showers and shaves, and dresses in his street clothes. He takes three half hour walks around the east side of the 8th floor. I thought he would be bored, but between medical attention, regular daily life, and the very welcomed visits from friends and family, our days pass very quickly.
We both feel very blessed that things have gone so well. As we have gotten to know the staff at LDS hospital we have been very impressed with their cheerful, "can do" attitude. Thank you for your prayers on our behalf. We know that they are being answered in numerous ways that make our life easier.
Eric has adjusted well to hospital life. He is up early, showers and shaves, and dresses in his street clothes. He takes three half hour walks around the east side of the 8th floor. I thought he would be bored, but between medical attention, regular daily life, and the very welcomed visits from friends and family, our days pass very quickly.
We both feel very blessed that things have gone so well. As we have gotten to know the staff at LDS hospital we have been very impressed with their cheerful, "can do" attitude. Thank you for your prayers on our behalf. We know that they are being answered in numerous ways that make our life easier.
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