May 20th
So the Eighth Chemo. I was actually looking forward to this session as it would be the first time since I started that I would go three weeks instead of two weeks between sessions. I felt this would provide me with many extra days of feeling great, instead of the few days on the Monday and Tuesday before the next session.
Boy was I wrong. This has been one of the most frustrating sessions yet, and for the first time, I can't say that this session was better than the last.
I guess a harbinger of things to come happened immediately when Karla and I got home from the clinic on Day 1, on April 30th. I went inside the house while Karla walked a few laneways over to get the mail from the group mailbox. As I was hanging my jacket, I heard a thump and a cry of pain. I opened the door to find Karla down on the front step, where she had tripped. She did not think she had fallen on her stomach, but had taken some abrasions on her knees and hands. She had also banged her head on the front door. After calling the ob/gyn, it was decided that she needed to come into the hospital to be checked out. So we got back into the car, now with Amarilis and Isla as well and drove back into Boston, thankfully against traffic. Unfortunately, Karla HAD to drive, as I was hooked up to the infuser, and could not drive while chemo was being pumped into me.
We made it to Brigham & Women's Hospital where Karla was whisked upstairs in the maternity ward. She had started having contractions, and we didn't know if they had been triggered by the fall, or by the trauma of the incident itself. After some observation, it was decided to keep Karla in the hospital overnight. Our next door neighbor, Colleen, volunteered to pick up Amarilis, Isla and myself so we were able to get home sometime after seven. We also had offers from both sets of parents to drive up (from Myrtle) or drive down (from Ottawa) the next day.
The next morning, Karla was cleared to leave but she was still having contractions. The baby was fine (I think Karla's natural instinct when she fell was to protect the baby at all costs, which was why her knees and head were banged up). So Karla drove herself home. Her parents ended up driving up on Friday, because we really couldn't know when the baby might come, and they were so supportive over the two week period in which they were here. It turned out that this was just a scare, and Karla did end up having Graeme as scheduled on May 12.
So the three-day infusion went pretty much as expected. Jaw pain on Day 2 but managed with Tylenol/Ibuprofen. I actually had pretty good Day 4 and 5 over the weekend of May 3rd and 4th. We looked at some houses and in general I felt pretty good. I had a scheduled appointment on Monday with a Health and Fitness Consultant from the clinic. I was hoping to get put on some kind of program I could follow going forward, but it was a bit more vague. Targeting 150 minutes a week of physical activity, and getting set up with the Livestrong foundation in the fall for a weight-based program. Not much direction.
I did go for some long walks over the next three days, but found I was getting progressively more tired each day after the walk. I was fighting a bit of a cold so figured it was playing around with my energy levels. Friday was a very bad day as I ended up sleeping for a bout six hours over the course of the day. I seemed to come out of it by the weekend, so felt I would be ready to handle the birth of Baby G over the next week.
Instead, what I found was, as each day progressed, I would come home in the evening more tired than the day before. I was even feeling some slight pains in my stomach similar to what I had felt earlier on in the process, and called my doctor to determine if I should come in (especially as I was at the hospital right next door). However, they felt that as long as I was not experiencing shortness of breath, I should just manage with painkillers. By Thursday, I was wiped, but managed to get Karla and baby home.
And that is pretty much what I have been going through since last Thursday (it is now Tuesday). I wake up somewhat refreshed but as the day progresses, I get more and more tired such that by the evening, I'm ready to turn in, sometimes as early as 6:30PM. I have tried taking naps but I do not wake up refreshed. It is very frustrating as I really thought that this "extra" week was going to be a bit of a glory period. Instead, my taste buds and neuropathy have gotten worse and I'm dealing with this extreme tiredness. I will definitely talk with my doctor tomorrow. Karla and family feel it is the stress of the past week, the fact that I was out of the home four days straight, and maybe a lingering cold (Isla has also been sick with a cold this week) that have impacted upon me. Logically, that makes sense, but emotionally you do start going down deep, dark alleys for which I have been able to stay away from, for the most part.
One other thing is that I had a CT Scan at the clinic last Thursday, and I will get the results tomorrow. I am trying to keep a positive attitude going in, but this past week has thrown me for a loop. Today, one of my Vermont friends invited me up in a few years for some father-son hockey on his backyard rink, and all I can think about is that: "I have to BE there." I'm sorry that the joy and wonder I felt with the birth of Graeme has been tempered somewhat by my health. Let's hope that things get sorted out tomorrow.
All the best.
Andrew
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
Arrival of Baby G - Graeme MacLellan Cuthill
This post is not going to talk about chemo or cancer. It's all about the birth of my son. Graeme MacLellan Cuthill arrived in this world at 9:28 AM on Monday, May 12. He was a healthy 7 lbs. 6 oz. and was 19.25 inches in length. It was a magical experience to be present at his birth.
It was a planned C-Section so Karla and I left for the hospital quite early on Monday to both avoid traffic and be at the hospital in plenty of time. Karla was ushered into a prep room at Brigham and Women's hospital around 7:45AM, and we expected the whole process to start around 9:30. However, Karla's doctor, known around the hospital as the "Queen Bee", had no time for dilly-dallying (she is known for being the best surgeon, although sometimes her bedside manner is a bit short). So Karla was wheeled out around 8:40 to the Operating Room (OR). I waited outside for 15 minutes while she was prepped and then sat beside her as the delivery began.
They had offered us a see-through canvas so we could watch the surgery in its entirety. However, we opted to go the opaque route, not wanting "too much information". After about ten minutes, I was told to look over and watched as Graeme entered the world. I have tears in my eyes as I write this - he was so beautiful and perfect. Hearing him cry for the first time was also music to my ears. Karla was much more lucid through this delivery and I was providing her with a running commentary as best I could. I think my first words were: "Wow, he's got a ton of hair".
They took Graeme aside to clean him up, and measure and weigh him. I was able to come over and watch. He's got a great pair of lungs on him, as he expressed his displeasure at being removed from his home of the past nine months. Then we brought him over to see Mommy. We got to hold him, swaddled, for a good ten minutes as the doctors finished the surgery. He had tears in his eyes as he was fighting so hard to keep them open and see the new world around him, while at the same time trying to adjust to light for the first time.
After the surgery was complete, we went back to Karla's prep room. We had our own private nurse to watch over both Karla and Graeme for the first little while, her name was Melissa and she was also pregnant, expecting in July. She was awesome and provided all the information we needed (we had a lot of questions) and the best help possible for Karla. Unfortunately, Karla had some bouts of nausea initially, so we stayed in this room a bit longer than expected until her stomach settled down. At around 3:30PM, we were transferred to Karla's recovery room, where she was expected to spend the next four nights.
The room itself was quite comfortable, with a TV and table for food and drinks, and several chairs for visitors. We had hoped to potentially have Karla's folks bring Isla over to meet her brother, but the day was already late and we felt that it might be a bit stressful getting caught in traffic, as well as being separated from Mommy again so late in the day, when Isla is already a bit tired. That evening, though, we did Facetime Karla and Graeme from home while I was reading Isla bedtime stories. She kissed the screen multiple times and said: "I love you, Baby G". Karla's parents, with Amarilis, went in for a visit later that evening, as Karla was feeling up to it. I stayed home with Isla. We tried to make things as normal as possible for Isla, with me being home when she woke up in the morning, and also being back home when she went to bed (and like most nights, reading her three stories).
So for the next two days, I would head to the hospital around 9AM, followed closely by Karla's parents, Amarilis and Isla and all five of us would spend the morning with Karla and Graeme. Isla did really well, and was comfortable enough to hold Graeme by Wednesday. I would spend the afternoon with Karla after the others left, and then head home around 6PM.
We had initially thought Karla and Graeme would stay through Friday, but Karla was feeling up to going home on Thursday. So we left the hospital around 3PM and got Graeme to his new home not long after 4. Baby and Mom have now been home for several days and are doing very well. Graeme is sleeping for three hour stretches at night, which is fantastic, and is breast-feeding very well. He is very vocal about not liking his diaper changed, but so far, seems pretty mellow overall. It's funny how "coiled up" he is, basically keeping his legs tucked in like he was still in the womb, with the odd kick to stretch them out.
I often look at Isla with wonder and tell myself (as if I did not believe it): "I have a little girl". Now I find myself doing the same with Graeme: "That little bundle over there is my son." I do think he looks a bit like me, but so did Isla as a baby. Hopefully, the influence of Karla's genes enhances his better looking traits!
Here are some photos of the family, plus some studio type pictures that were actually taken in the hospital room.
It was a planned C-Section so Karla and I left for the hospital quite early on Monday to both avoid traffic and be at the hospital in plenty of time. Karla was ushered into a prep room at Brigham and Women's hospital around 7:45AM, and we expected the whole process to start around 9:30. However, Karla's doctor, known around the hospital as the "Queen Bee", had no time for dilly-dallying (she is known for being the best surgeon, although sometimes her bedside manner is a bit short). So Karla was wheeled out around 8:40 to the Operating Room (OR). I waited outside for 15 minutes while she was prepped and then sat beside her as the delivery began.
They had offered us a see-through canvas so we could watch the surgery in its entirety. However, we opted to go the opaque route, not wanting "too much information". After about ten minutes, I was told to look over and watched as Graeme entered the world. I have tears in my eyes as I write this - he was so beautiful and perfect. Hearing him cry for the first time was also music to my ears. Karla was much more lucid through this delivery and I was providing her with a running commentary as best I could. I think my first words were: "Wow, he's got a ton of hair".
They took Graeme aside to clean him up, and measure and weigh him. I was able to come over and watch. He's got a great pair of lungs on him, as he expressed his displeasure at being removed from his home of the past nine months. Then we brought him over to see Mommy. We got to hold him, swaddled, for a good ten minutes as the doctors finished the surgery. He had tears in his eyes as he was fighting so hard to keep them open and see the new world around him, while at the same time trying to adjust to light for the first time.
After the surgery was complete, we went back to Karla's prep room. We had our own private nurse to watch over both Karla and Graeme for the first little while, her name was Melissa and she was also pregnant, expecting in July. She was awesome and provided all the information we needed (we had a lot of questions) and the best help possible for Karla. Unfortunately, Karla had some bouts of nausea initially, so we stayed in this room a bit longer than expected until her stomach settled down. At around 3:30PM, we were transferred to Karla's recovery room, where she was expected to spend the next four nights.
The room itself was quite comfortable, with a TV and table for food and drinks, and several chairs for visitors. We had hoped to potentially have Karla's folks bring Isla over to meet her brother, but the day was already late and we felt that it might be a bit stressful getting caught in traffic, as well as being separated from Mommy again so late in the day, when Isla is already a bit tired. That evening, though, we did Facetime Karla and Graeme from home while I was reading Isla bedtime stories. She kissed the screen multiple times and said: "I love you, Baby G". Karla's parents, with Amarilis, went in for a visit later that evening, as Karla was feeling up to it. I stayed home with Isla. We tried to make things as normal as possible for Isla, with me being home when she woke up in the morning, and also being back home when she went to bed (and like most nights, reading her three stories).
So for the next two days, I would head to the hospital around 9AM, followed closely by Karla's parents, Amarilis and Isla and all five of us would spend the morning with Karla and Graeme. Isla did really well, and was comfortable enough to hold Graeme by Wednesday. I would spend the afternoon with Karla after the others left, and then head home around 6PM.
We had initially thought Karla and Graeme would stay through Friday, but Karla was feeling up to going home on Thursday. So we left the hospital around 3PM and got Graeme to his new home not long after 4. Baby and Mom have now been home for several days and are doing very well. Graeme is sleeping for three hour stretches at night, which is fantastic, and is breast-feeding very well. He is very vocal about not liking his diaper changed, but so far, seems pretty mellow overall. It's funny how "coiled up" he is, basically keeping his legs tucked in like he was still in the womb, with the odd kick to stretch them out.
I often look at Isla with wonder and tell myself (as if I did not believe it): "I have a little girl". Now I find myself doing the same with Graeme: "That little bundle over there is my son." I do think he looks a bit like me, but so did Isla as a baby. Hopefully, the influence of Karla's genes enhances his better looking traits!
Here are some photos of the family, plus some studio type pictures that were actually taken in the hospital room.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Some Thoughts on Exactly How Much to Share
First off, I'm of British decent, so sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings is definitely struggle, both in words on paper, and also verbally in real life. But I've never faced something quite like this before, and I do feel that getting things down on "paper" serves several purposes. In no particular order, I think it does the following:
1. How much to share. I struggled with this but in the end decided that I would share as much information as possible for several reasons - so all you readers have a good idea (a full understanding) of the challenges that Karla and I face on a regular basis, and second, if I am gone at some point in later years and my children want some insight into who I am and what went on back in 2014 and forward, that a record exists that they can consult. There is some filtering going on - we share as much as possible within reason. Believe me, sharing as much as I have has been a struggle at times, but it is therapeutic to me. And hopefully it is somewhat entertaining, enlightening and has an impact on some of you, the readers,
2. Speaking of having an impact on the readers, I know that I have had an impact on some of you. I have heard directly or second hand that some of you have taken action to check with your doctors and to even go has far as having colonoscopies to address potential colon cancer earlier in your lives. I know that I always considered things like colon cancer as an older person's disease and not something I had to worry about. It has been a shock to me that several acquaintances, both of whom are younger than me, have also been fighting (and successfully holding at bay) colon cancer. While something like a colonoscopy is not an easy process, it may be something for people to consider in their forties rather than later on in life. At a minimum, have regular physicals that include blood tests. I oftentimes wonder if I had been more prudent in taking action, I might have been able to stop this disease before it got to Stage IV.
In addition, Karla and I consider ourselves lucky that we consulted a financial advisor a few years back, and took the proper steps to cover ourselves with significant life insurance policies when we did. I do feel somewhat secure that should I pass away sooner than later, Karla and my children will be well taken care of. I have heard that some of you are also assessing your life insurance coverage for sufficiency since hearing about my challenges and I think that's great. Do it before "the train has already left the station", so to speak. If I have one regret, I wish I had also taken out more supplemental permanent disability insurance. Luckily, my company has been open to both flexible work hours and assignments that fit within my chemo schedule. And while my health has an impact on my availability, it has not prevented me from being an active and productive member for my company. But who is to say things won't change in the future - I know we will find a way to manage, but the extra security would have been nice.
3. In this day and age, we just don't write letters to each other anymore. I think back to my youth, when my mother and grandmother would send weekly letters to each other. The letters would be six to eight pages long, single-spaced, on that old sky-blue tissue-like letter paper and sent by airmail across the sea from London to Ottawa each week and back again the next. Costs for making long distance phone calls on a regular basis were prohibitive so this was the most efficient and effective way for mother and daughter to keep each other up-to-date across three thousand miles of ocean.
With the advent of emails, the art of letter writing has slowly waned to nothing. There is no permanent record of what is going on in people's life. There is also no way I could sit down and write a weekly email, let alone a weekly letter to each of you, so think of this as my personal way of sending you a letter every week or two and keeping you up-to-date on my life. I apologize for not writing it down on blue tissue paper, but hopefully this format will suffice.
1. How much to share. I struggled with this but in the end decided that I would share as much information as possible for several reasons - so all you readers have a good idea (a full understanding) of the challenges that Karla and I face on a regular basis, and second, if I am gone at some point in later years and my children want some insight into who I am and what went on back in 2014 and forward, that a record exists that they can consult. There is some filtering going on - we share as much as possible within reason. Believe me, sharing as much as I have has been a struggle at times, but it is therapeutic to me. And hopefully it is somewhat entertaining, enlightening and has an impact on some of you, the readers,
2. Speaking of having an impact on the readers, I know that I have had an impact on some of you. I have heard directly or second hand that some of you have taken action to check with your doctors and to even go has far as having colonoscopies to address potential colon cancer earlier in your lives. I know that I always considered things like colon cancer as an older person's disease and not something I had to worry about. It has been a shock to me that several acquaintances, both of whom are younger than me, have also been fighting (and successfully holding at bay) colon cancer. While something like a colonoscopy is not an easy process, it may be something for people to consider in their forties rather than later on in life. At a minimum, have regular physicals that include blood tests. I oftentimes wonder if I had been more prudent in taking action, I might have been able to stop this disease before it got to Stage IV.
In addition, Karla and I consider ourselves lucky that we consulted a financial advisor a few years back, and took the proper steps to cover ourselves with significant life insurance policies when we did. I do feel somewhat secure that should I pass away sooner than later, Karla and my children will be well taken care of. I have heard that some of you are also assessing your life insurance coverage for sufficiency since hearing about my challenges and I think that's great. Do it before "the train has already left the station", so to speak. If I have one regret, I wish I had also taken out more supplemental permanent disability insurance. Luckily, my company has been open to both flexible work hours and assignments that fit within my chemo schedule. And while my health has an impact on my availability, it has not prevented me from being an active and productive member for my company. But who is to say things won't change in the future - I know we will find a way to manage, but the extra security would have been nice.
3. In this day and age, we just don't write letters to each other anymore. I think back to my youth, when my mother and grandmother would send weekly letters to each other. The letters would be six to eight pages long, single-spaced, on that old sky-blue tissue-like letter paper and sent by airmail across the sea from London to Ottawa each week and back again the next. Costs for making long distance phone calls on a regular basis were prohibitive so this was the most efficient and effective way for mother and daughter to keep each other up-to-date across three thousand miles of ocean.
With the advent of emails, the art of letter writing has slowly waned to nothing. There is no permanent record of what is going on in people's life. There is also no way I could sit down and write a weekly email, let alone a weekly letter to each of you, so think of this as my personal way of sending you a letter every week or two and keeping you up-to-date on my life. I apologize for not writing it down on blue tissue paper, but hopefully this format will suffice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)