What's the score?

Fighting a tumor must be like playing baseball without a scoreboard. I'm playing the game, but I don't know the score or the inning.

My guess is that the tumor is ahead, 2 to 1. I don't mind playing from behind. Plus, I'm pretty sure it's still early in the game.

Tumor Times, Volume 12

If you missed Volume 11, don't worry -- there wasn't one. I have been too tired to type.

It has been 12 weeks since the cancer diagnosis. The last two weeks have been quite eventful. I managed to make it back to ICU due to a fever, a low white blood cell count, and various other problems revealed through routine blood work.

The purpose of putting me in ICU was so that the hospital could dispense its entire arsenal of pharmaceuticals into my veins. In addition, I was in "reverse isolation", meaning that everyone who came to my room had to put on a mask, gloves, and a gown.

This kind of outfit, of course, makes visitors look silly. However, I don't recall being amused.

This visit to the hospital also gave me my first experience with a catheter. The less said about this, the better.

Interestingly, I was given the exact same room in ICU that I had occupied two weeks earlier. I think there is plaque on the wall now, commemorating the room as the "Kevin Hamner Memorial Sty".

I must admit that I am impressed by the local hospital. I've been there a lot, spent quality time on several different floors, and I find that it is generally a very clean and pleasant place to be. Of course, I still can't get any sleep in the hospital because the beds are evidently built for people who are less than 5 feet tall.

I left the hospital a week ago. I have been very weak, and walking was difficult for a few days due to swelling caused by all of the IV fluids I was given. I am now back at work, and it's good to be able to be somewhere other than the house or the hospital. My most recent visit with the doctor was today, and I don’t have to have another chemotherapy treatment for three weeks. And, when it resumes, it promises to be less arduous than the three treatments I have had to date. I hope so. I am worn out.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers, support, calls, and cards. I needed every one of them. I may not be able to thank all of you in person for all you have done, but rest assured that I do remember.

Stayed tuned for Volume 13 next week. I know that will be a lucky one.... ;-)

Still Kickin'

I have been catching up on sleep and laying flat on my back with both legs high in the air. I have a lot of swelling in my feet and legs, and that makes it hard to walk.

My appetite is good, and I am fairly clear-headed. I still don't like standing up (dizzy), and looking at all of my swelling makes me wince.

In all of this God is good. He has provided so far, and I am at a point where I have to trust Him for every good thing. Not a bad place to be.....

Smiling

You just gotta smile when the week first falls apart only to get pieced together again by the end of the week. God has been amazing. I'll write it up in the next edition of Tumor Times. In the meantime, let's have some fun!

Back in Hospital

Back to Skyridge with a temp of 102 degrees. Antibiotics and fluids are flowing freely. It looks like a 3 day stay. Yuck.

Tumor Terminology

Medical Terminology I learned during my hospital stay:

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ICU – Idiot Containment Unit. I was the idiot.

Private Room – Sleep Deprivation Chamber.

Blood Work – A full-contact sport that the vampire nurses play at 4:00 am. Every day.

Chest X-Ray Machine – A totally unnecessary piece of equipment that two 25 year old guys push around the ICU for exercise. Why this had to be done at 5:00 am escapes me. But, since the vampires had already awakened me, I guess it wasn’t too bad.

Medication – Something that has to be spread out over the course of the day so that it can be administered each time I get ready to fall asleep.
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My education is now complete. I must admit, the first night home I slept so good that I swore that I will never go back to the hospital again!

I followed up with the pulmonary doctor yesterday, and my breathing is good but not great. I don’t have a lot of lung capacity at the moment and that worries me. Not that I can do anything about it. However, my current lung capacity is much greater now than it was a week ago.

Otherwise, my potassium is low, and I am anemic. The cancer doctor prescribed pills for the former, and is working on a treatment for the latter. My third chemotherapy was Thursday, and although it doesn’t make me sick, it does take a lot out of me. I think I only have three more chemotherapy sessions to go.

At the end of the treatments, I guess the judges will assemble and decide who won: the chemotherapy or the tumor. Right now, I’m betting on the chemotherapy, but I think the tumor is putting up a valiant fight. If each of you send money, I will try to bribe the judges. ;-)

Thanks for the continued prayers and support. I cherish each of you!

Good Report

Good report at the pulmonary doctor today. I am recovering nicely from the pneumonia. I didn't do well on one of the breathing tests, so he gave me an inhaler to use. Otherwise, my breathing is fine and I don't have to use oxygen any more!

Tomorrow is back-to-work. Let's see how long I last!

Norman Borlaug

I have read about Norman Borlaug over the years and have always marveled how a man of such great achievement could receive such meager recognition.

Because of Borlaug, "...food is more abundant and cheaper today than ever before in history..." He is a man who kept millions from starving by creating and planting high-yield crops that were also disease and pest resistant.

You can read more about Mr. Borlaug here.

He wasn't a politician. He was not a celebrity. He accomplished miracles working with seed, dirt, and farm equipment in some very inhospitable regions of the world. A truly great man.

Impressive, no?

The observant among you probably noticed that Thursday's post (below) was written and posted from the doctor's office while I was under the influence of powerful chemotherapy drugs. I'm impressed that the post made sense.

You too, should be impressed with me. I was the only one at the doctor's office with a laptop, blogging my treatment. ;-)

Yardwork!

Last weekend, I sat in a chair in my driveway directing my highly trained and ultra-professional lawn care crew. I had to sit because I lacked the strength to stand. I also had to sit because I was tied to my oxygen tank with a short, clear plastic tube that ran up my nose.

This weekend, much is different. I fired up my riding lawn mower and cut my own grass. I was able to do it without an oxygen tank (that would have looked silly on the riding lawnmower). And, I had a good time doing it.

It's had to believe how such a little thing (like being able to ride my own lawn mower) makes such a big difference to my attitude. Now, I'm ready to do anything!

Wait. That should be "almost anything." I don't think I'll be tearing down and rebuilding the back deck any time soon.

Again, thanks for your cards and prayers this week. I'll have some really good news to report on Monday after my visit to the lung doctor, who I'm sure will be totally impressed with my progress, my strength, my lack of pneumonia, and my singing voice!

Record Time

It looks like today's chemotherapy will be done in record time. I will actually be done in 8 hours today. The previous chemo session was 9 hours. The first chemo lasted 12 hours.

I just hope that I feel good tomorrow. I dreaded getting started this morning. But, so far, I feel good and seem to be tolerating all of these chemicals just fine.

Having access to the internet during chemo is a lot of fun. Highly recommended.

Chemo on Thursday

Wow. My first update in 4 days. I should be able to increase the frequency of updates now that my energy starting to return.

My next chemo is on Thursday the 10th. They decided that I am healthy enough now to take another drubbing from various tumor-toxic drugs. I am being treated like a bowling pin: set me up, knock me down, set me back up again. ;-(

The blood work today showed deficiencies in red blood cells and potassium. I think they are going to address those issues with yet more drugs. My breathing is much better. I think I am at the point where I can get rid of the oxygen. I will have to get the pulmonary specialist to agree with me on that. His evaluation is on Monday.

I feel blessed and very fortunate to have all of you praying for me. Please continue to do so. I will need them tomorrow!

Still Kicking

I am enjoying my new found freedom.

Last weekend: bedrest.
This weekend: short walks around the house, while managing the plastic tubing that supplies my oxygen.

Last weekend: used as a pincushion and blood dispenser.
This weekend: No more poking and prodding.

Last weekend: taking a sleeping pill at 10:00 pm so that I could fall asleep by 4:00 am, at which time the bloodlettings would start.
This weekend: Stretching out on the bed at 9:00 pm, and blissfully unaware of anything until the next morning.

The only plus from a week ago is that I had a lot of visitors. I miss them. But, we have had several visitors at the house this week, and that has been special too.

I thank all of you for your prayers and support!

From the Mailbag

These two email correspondents have suggested a new treatment program for my lymphoma:

Not as grumpy today

Today is my birthday. I celebrated by not going to the hospital. ;-)

Not feeling at home

I don't feel at home when I'm sitting around with oxygen tubes up my nose. What's the point of getting better when I have tubes in my face? I am not at all happy with God today. I am getting a raw deal. I should be able to breathe on my own after a week in the hospital, right?

Here is an opportunity for me to step out on faith. I am thinking about it.

Let's go home

Today is the day. I am out of the hospital. I can't wait to change locations!