The last time I posted, R’s white blood cells and specifically, his neutrophils had started climbing, meaning the donor cells were kicking in. The neutrophils had been “too few to count” on prior lab reports but went to .1 then .13 and all the way up to .19 today. They’d like to see them closer to .5 before he gets discharged from the hospital. Remember, neutrophils are your immune system’s first-line responders. While .5 is still very low, it means the immune system is recovering and providing a small level of protection. Over time, it should improve until one day, he’ll be about as able to fight bacteria, fungus, molds & spores, and viruses (although viruses are mostly contained by lymphocytes) like he did before the cancer.

We thought he might go home this week. That’s up in the air now, because…

Seahawks, baby! NFC Division champs!

…he developed his first case of gout, right foot big toe. That got better practically overnight with steroids, and then…his potassium went way high and there was some evidence of a slight heart arrhythmia. Potassium is one of the main ions that control the heart’s electrical system. Even small changes can affect how the cells fire and reset.

Doctors adjusted stuff hanging on his IV pole (more saline fluid to make him pee out the excess potassium?). I’m sure they did more than that but frankly, my brain is mush. There is so much to track and understand and communicate.

Last night, the gout pain came roaring back and his potassium is still too high. So, sh*t. Transplant whackamole.

One good piece of news is he is no longer getting IV nutrition and today is the first day he’s eaten a decent amount (including homemade mac and cheese with ham I brought in).

As one doctor put it, it’s not all bad. He’s “trading up” on his symptoms. 10 days ago it was severe cramping and gut infection plus monumental headaches and now it’s gout and borderline arrhythmia. On December 7th he had a major reaction to a drop in one of his cancer meds causing his face to turn purple, shortness of breath, major body tremors and teeth-chattering cold. So, gout, schmout! He can handle THAT.

Still, we wish we had a discharge date. Maybe this Friday but we’re not holding our combined breath.

At home I am getting ready for his return. There’s a long list of things I’ll need to do daily to keep him from getting very sick or worse. No matter. I want him home and he’s desperate to get there.

Our little dog Diego will stay with my brother and sister-in-law. Dog germs and crud they carry in from outside can be dangerous. We have a 17 year old dog who is too old to farm out. I’ll take every precaution to “anti-bacterial” everything she comes into contact with and she won’t be allowed anywhere near R. There was a thought about putting her down last week, but I couldn’t do it. She still has a lot of happy moments and I can’t say goodbye yet.

Bottom line, R is improving! He’ll be home soon.

HOOKED ON R—A CONTINUATION

If you’re not interested, avert your eyes. It’s not like it has any direct connection to bone marrow cancer or anything!

I left off with R coming back from his 7-month study abroad program in France and me feeling angry and broken because he never acknowledged the 100 obsessive-compulsive letters I sent him. Me? A stalker? Of course!

He showed up at my home a few days after arriving in Seattle and rang the doorbell. Oh My. Gawd. He looked like a hunk right out of Tiger Beat Magazine. His hair had grown. No more clean-cut Eagle Scout. I was looking at a hunk-o-burnin-love in tight white jeans, a button up shirt open TWO buttons at the top, deep golden brown hairy arms and chest and past-his-ears blonde-almost-white feathered hair, à la David Cassidy, my 10-year old crush. (If you don’t know who David Cassidy is, you were most certainly born after 1975).

I nearly tossed my Cookie Crisp Cereal. I was prepared to tell him off. “How could you disregard my feelings?!” “I said I loved you and wanted to have your babies!” Toss of the hair. Tears down the cheeks. Sniffle. “You dumbass!”

But what I actually said was, “I love you and want to have your babies!”

Not really. He took me to Greenlake and parked. We watched the lights sparkle across the water through the windshield of his 1965 Renault with the lamb’s wool-covered seats and suh-weeeet surround sound stereo. I told him how my heart hurt because he dismissed my letters, leaving me confused and broken.

He said he wanted to avoid my feelings and his own because of our age difference (3 yrs 5 mo). It simply wasn’t practical, not to mention illegal!

But he DID have feelings for me, he finally admitted.

And we held hands and my heart nearly popped.

The love story that came after started small and tender and grew for the next 5 years. It was magical, almost other-worldly. The things he taught me, the things I experienced with him changed the trajectory of our lives and created ripples far beyond our capacity to imagine.

To be continued…