Sounds like the title of a hospital soap opera! Monday night I found out my dad’s blood levels had dropped to an unhappy level. His oncologist got him signed up for a blood transfusion on Tuesday. So I drew the lucky straw to accompany him on the blood journey. I first thought we would be at the cancer unit but not so! We had a date at the old hospital in Eugene. Ah, the old stomping grounds! The place I was born! Such a great place! I’m joking folks. We arrived early and found a friendly escort (a bored security guard) to lead us through the maze of levels. We were very happy since Lee had no idea where he was supposed to go.
We ended up in a room with no windows. Well, there were some windows 8ft up the wall and were blocked by an overhang so they really didn’t count much. The nurse hooked him up with a little cleansing saline, dosed him with ibuprofen & benadryl to lower any rejection, checked his vitals then loaded the system with the first pint. After the first 15 min, she checked the vitals again to make sure he wasn’t rejecting the blood, and kept the blood flowing until finished.
Next pint was started after a dose of lasix. My dad didn’t seem to comprehend what that was until the extra fluid started moving to his bladder. More vital checking after 15 min… lunch was soup. Several trips to the restroom toting his rolling blood machine. Another couple of hours later and it was done. 5.5 hrs total. A long day!
He was tired, had to pee before heading home, but otherwise in pretty good spirits. He hated having wasted my day, but I look at it differently. I provided him with extra ears & eyes to help him understand what was going on. I spent a great time with my dad in an uncomfortable foreign situation. I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
He’s hoping to head to Yachats tomorrow if he’s feeling well enough. Monday we find out the next chemo plan. Hopefully one that shifts the cancer to a manageable level. We keep moving along with life!
Ugh! There is such temptation to wear a trench coat lined with little jars of paint on the interior. 5.5 hours could lead to a whole lot of color infusion and joy for the next soul who requires their services! Glad you are both on the other side of this experience!
The old hospital certainly isn’t the most lovely looking and the rooms really need windows. However, if there were windows in that location you certainly wouldn’t be looking out to beautiful scenery. It would be out to the decaying walls of another hospital wing. Riverbend is much brighter and more open feeling.
I remember sitting with my Dad while he would have his hours long Chemo appts. I heard some great stories and watched him light up the room for the others with his tales as well. What a gift of time those days were. I’d give anything to be able to sit there again my friend. Cheers to quality time with Dad’s however it may come.
I have been where you and your Dad are now. There is something every day to be grateful for. Or laugh at. You are a good son.
All in my prayers.
( Judith from HladikVoss blog )
Judith, Thanks for your thoughts. The world of cancer is quite fascinating and each journey is different, but also so similar.
Just so you know, not that you could really tell by the spelling of my first name, but I’m a daughter, not a son. 🙂
Cheers!
Gale
My heart goes out to you, having lost both parents eventually to cancer. You and your Dad are so lucky to have each other x
Oh Rose. Sorry to hear you’ve been down a similar path. Like I said to Judith, it’s an interesting journey! I’m looking forward to a better week since my hubby is home from India! Home support is always good to have.
Love Sparta’s recent posting…. it always makes me laugh! Keep it all going!
Gale
My heart goes out to you Gale, I too went through this with both my parents. Thinking of you:)x
Thanks Nikki. I’m hoping this week some creative energy might creep back into my life. Maybe after today’s doctor report. Still waiting for his bone marrow cells to get back to into the production mode! 🙂
I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you Gale 🙂