On Monday, the thing that Jess and I hoped wouldn't happen, happened. My chemotherapy was stopped for this week. I'd seen other patients be told that they weren't getting treatment this week because one thing or another was too low in their bloodwork and I felt like I had really good momentum going, but...after my labs came back, the nurse approached me with a piece of paper and a look on her face that told me everything. Something was too low to proceed.
That something was my platelet level. They like you to be above 100. The week before, my levels were at 200! But on Monday, they were at 63. When chemo attacks your body, it attacks everything, bone marrow included. Home of the platelet factory. Not to be confused with The Cheesecake Factory. There were actually many things flagged as low this week, but that was the big one, the one that had the doctor hit the big red emergency stop button on my treatments. With platelet levels that low, the chemo would cause some major damage and drop that level to a very dangerous number. The kind of number where you just start bleeding for no reason, or if you get a papercut, you might bleed out. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but you get the idea. It could also do some significant damage to my bone marrow. I've got enough problems right now.
So this week they wanted to give my body a rest and let it heal a bit. The platelet level should be back to an acceptable level next week, fingers crossed. The nurse told me that it's not uncommon for this to happen, especially after four consecutive weeks of chemotherapy, and that this would not put me off track as far as the chemo attacking the cancer. However, it was very disappointing, and extremely frustrating. On the plus side, I get a week where I feel less like something someone regurgitated on the broken tile floor of a New York subway platform.
Radiation continues every day and while my skin is getting slightly irritated, I have not experienced any of the raw/sore throat burning that they've been warning me about. Tomorrow marks the halfway point for radiation treatments: 14/28. I still don't have x-ray vision, nor can I move things with my mind. I've tried.
Had a follow up with my thoracic surgeon yesterday (she's the doc who put my feeding tube in). She bluntly told me that "by the book" I am not a surgical candidate because the cancer is in my lymph node. Even if the radiation shrinks the large mass down and the chemo crushes everything. But she also added that she doesn't always go by the book, and that she is a bit of a rule-breaker. Then she also added that she is leaving Shenandoah Medical and going to WVU and wouldn't be here to perform said surgery. She ultimately said that everything depends on the state of things after I finish my treatments. If the radiation and chemo do what they're supposed to, and because I'm younger and healthier, she'd not rule out surgery, if I wanted to follow her to WVU. Or I could go to Johns Hopkins. So, it was a real fun visit. The doctor at Johns Hopkins seemed to take more of an approach that surgery was definitely on the table vs. the doctor here who seemed to leave me with the feeling that she was hesitant either way.
So, once again, Jess and I have no idea what the near or far future looks like. It's equally terrifying, frustrating, and maddening. I'm doing everything I can: treatments, nutritional downloading, getting plenty of rest, and maintaining a positive, healthy outlook. Maybe everything gets knocked down and chased out and I don't need the surgery, only annual screenings and preventative measures. Maybe everything gets knocked down and I get the surgery (which is major and extensive). Maybe it doesn't get cleared out enough and I have to get more treatments, or different treatments, or immunotherapy. Who the hell knows.
For now, though, we're trying to focus on one step, one day at a time. We can't get too far ahead of ourselves. I'm still smiling and still fighting and still keeping hope. So, when you read this, consider feeding more of that positive energy into the universe. Do something nice for someone. Smile more. Help someone in need. Offer a kind word or a compliment. Forgive someone. Forgive yourself. Embrace life today - really embrace it. Take joy in the little things and slow down to appreciate a budding flower, a bird song, or the way the sun dapples across a stream. Even if you just spend five extra minutes to hit pause on your otherwise busy, hectic, scheduled lives, that's five extra minutes of serenity added to the collective universal pond. Your ripple matters.
