Day Zero Minus One

The chemo drugs are leaving Jeff’s body so today was a better day.  He still vomited after his a.m. and p.m. radiation treatments but he is getting to be an ol’ pro at vomiting.  He was alert for short periods of time and could speak in sentences.  Even though I realize he is going through a rough process, it still made me very, very happy to hear him carry on brief conversations.  Paul was in the city and, luckily, visited during a wakeful period.   

I was getting giddy about this being Day Zero Minus One and Jeff was surprised that it was Thursday.  He kind of lost yesterday.  It took some convincing that Kerry, Kim and Theresa visited Tuesday night, not last night, and I’m not sure he really believed me in the end.

In the last few days, I had been showering Jeff with kisses because we won’t be able to kiss him for awhile.  Direct contact is to be limited and, of course, gowns and gloves are all the fashion in the tiny world of Rhoads Room 7024.  When I arrived this morning, five student doctors and the attending oncologist were outside Jeff’s room discussing Jeff’s case, I think.  All discussion stopped while I awkwardly went through the gowning ritual for only my second time:  I washed my hands,  gloved them while still too wet so that the fingertips stuck up two inches beyond my own fingertips making it difficult to tie the gown.  I could feel their eyes on me.  By the end of the day, having gone in and out for various reasons, I got the knack of it and could advise Paul who, like me this morning, looked a little bewildered at all the stuff and signs and oh-my-goodness-what-if-I-do-this-wrong?!  We need to remember it is just, as Kerry says, “risk management.”

Some of our family and friends imagine that Jeff will be having surgery tomorrow.  Not so.  It will be almost a non-event except for the life-saving aspect of it.  After his last two radiation treatments, morning and afternoon, Jeff will receive his new marrow like a blood transfusion, from a bag hung on his IV pole which will flow into him through one of his ports.  Easy-schmeezy.  Jeff’s donor had her first harvest of bone marrow today under general anesthesia.  We don’t know where that took place.  Her second harvest will take place tomorrow.  She will be a little sore but will fully recover in 2-14 days (depending upon who you ask).  I have a lot of quiet time at Jeff’s bedside and I think about her and wonder how she is feeling.  Does she wish she hadn’t been so generous?  Is her family worried about her? 

I told the attending oncologist that Jeff says he’ll be getting “cootie blood” from a girl.  The doctor mentioned CSI.  I think there was an episode where the male criminal had female (XX) blood because he’d had a bone marrow transplant.  The doctor said that Jeff won’t notice any effects of his new marrow for a day or so.  Then the drapes will begin to look wrong.  Within three days, the room will appear to need a makeover.  Eventually, he’ll be giving fashion advice…   Not very PC, but very funny.  I got a very different response from the chaplain who thought I said, “coolie blood.”  She said, “So you know that the donor is Korean?”  Also not very PC but she seriously thought that’s what I said!

O.K., Prayer Team.  Pray hard tomorrow!