UPDATE and let's say good-bye to these items

UPDATE: The infection I had before and after Halloween succumbed to the antibiotic. The fever that I had lasted for a week, no higher than 101, no lower than 99. Two weeks tomorrow, no fever--hallelujah. My blood counts from last Wednesday alarmed my chemo doctor into postponing Chemo Round Six. I'm glad that he did that although at first I felt awful about it because I wanted to complete all six as we'd planned. Listen to your body, Lynette. Since I could not put on my raincoat without getting out of breath--not enough oxygen going through my muscles--and had so few white blood cells to fight off another infection if I were to get one, I quickly realized that he was right. I've spent the last week sleeping well at night, napping well during the day, walking some inside my building once I could walk inside my apartment without getting out of breath, and getting back an appetite of sorts. Most of all, letting my body correct the blood counts, I prayed, as I added another week in between rounds.



So, I went this morning and had the blood counts done again. A little while ago I had a phone call saying they were suitable and that I would have chemo tomorrow. Hallelujah! The last round. Whew. Been doing this since July 29.

I want to say good-bye to the flat item you see, the cover for the chemo port which I apply once I've squeezed anesthetic cream from the tube onto it and then stuck the whole thing on my skin with the cream covering the chemo port. I want to say good-bye to the tube, too. I am thankful for both of them because they keep me from feeling much of anything when the chemo nurse inserts the needle through my skin and into my chemo port. I'm not certain yet when I'll be saying good-bye to the chemo port itself, but the little thing embedded below my collarbone is a medical miracle in my book.

I want to say good-bye and thank you to the Zyrtec, the Decadron, and the Ativan, although each of them plays a really important part in getting my body ready to accept as best it can the Taxo, the chemo that messes with my blood pressure and takes almost twice as long to drip into me as it does into the average patient.

There are some fantastic anti-nausea drugs I want to say thank you and good-bye to, but they wouldn't fit into the photo in a pleasing way. Photographer's decision.

I have the chemo follow-up CAT scan on December 13 and the appointment with the chemo doctor to discuss whatever it shows on December 17. I know nothing yet about the radiation timeline.

Thank you for your continued prayers, love, and concern.