Mike passed away on the afternoon of Friday, October 14.
I can't even believe I just typed those words.
My only comforts are knowing he is no longer suffering, and that his final concerns were to make sure his family, and me in particular, would go on and find joy in life again. I can't imagine that happening, but I am willing to try, only for him.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Please Join Us Tonight at 9
Today I sent this to those we know and love:
Dear friends and family,
I'm writing to you again to ask for your prayers for Mike. He has been in the hospital since Aug. 30, when he was admitted to try a new five-day chemo regimen. After finishing the chemo, we began the wait for his body to recover and for his body to begin producing new, healthy white blood cells. As of today, that hasn't yet happened.
Mike has been on numerous antibiotics and antifungal medications for weeks, trying to control various bacteria and fevers in his system. So far, the doctors have been able to control things as well as possible with medicine, but ultimately what Mike needs is for his own immune system to return. The doctors performed a bone-marrow biopsy two weeks ago, and found the marrow to be empty -- no sign of leukemia cells, but also no sign of new normal cells. They plan to repeat the bone-marrow biopsy this week.
More than ever, we need your prayers. By all reasonable accounts, Mike's body should have recovered by now. Needless to say, the doctors are quite concerned with the lack of recovery, as well as the persistent fevers and infections. We ask that you add Mike to any prayer lists you may have, and to ask for the prayer support of those you know. The doctors are doing all they know how to do, but we need the power of prayer to pull him through this. Specifically, these are the areas of prayer needed:
-- for Mike's bone marrow to begin producing healthy, normal immune cells (whites and neutrophils) which will pull his body out of its current sickness and extreme vulnerability ******most important******
-- for Mike's infections to be brought under control and that no new infections pop up
-- that Mike's fevers, chills and nausea subside so he is less dependent on symptom-management medication and so that he is able to eat
-- that no more cancer recur in any part of his body, especially the marrow
-- that Mike's state of mind improve and that he feel encouraged in the coming days and weeks
-- that the wonderful hospital staff here continue to do all they can within their abilities to get to the bottom of this situation
I am asking you all to take a few minutes tonight, Monday the 10th at 9PM eastern time, and pray for Mike's improvement. Please encourage those you know to join us at this time as well and stand in agreement for Mike's healing. One thing I've been learning from a dear friend (thank you, Rene') is to not only ask God for Mike's healing, but to expect it. We need people who will stand on God's word and promise of healing and a future for Mike. Please stand with us and believe in this healing.
Love,
Lauren
Dear friends and family,
I'm writing to you again to ask for your prayers for Mike. He has been in the hospital since Aug. 30, when he was admitted to try a new five-day chemo regimen. After finishing the chemo, we began the wait for his body to recover and for his body to begin producing new, healthy white blood cells. As of today, that hasn't yet happened.
Mike has been on numerous antibiotics and antifungal medications for weeks, trying to control various bacteria and fevers in his system. So far, the doctors have been able to control things as well as possible with medicine, but ultimately what Mike needs is for his own immune system to return. The doctors performed a bone-marrow biopsy two weeks ago, and found the marrow to be empty -- no sign of leukemia cells, but also no sign of new normal cells. They plan to repeat the bone-marrow biopsy this week.
More than ever, we need your prayers. By all reasonable accounts, Mike's body should have recovered by now. Needless to say, the doctors are quite concerned with the lack of recovery, as well as the persistent fevers and infections. We ask that you add Mike to any prayer lists you may have, and to ask for the prayer support of those you know. The doctors are doing all they know how to do, but we need the power of prayer to pull him through this. Specifically, these are the areas of prayer needed:
-- for Mike's bone marrow to begin producing healthy, normal immune cells (whites and neutrophils) which will pull his body out of its current sickness and extreme vulnerability ******most important******
-- for Mike's infections to be brought under control and that no new infections pop up
-- that Mike's fevers, chills and nausea subside so he is less dependent on symptom-management medication and so that he is able to eat
-- that no more cancer recur in any part of his body, especially the marrow
-- that Mike's state of mind improve and that he feel encouraged in the coming days and weeks
-- that the wonderful hospital staff here continue to do all they can within their abilities to get to the bottom of this situation
I am asking you all to take a few minutes tonight, Monday the 10th at 9PM eastern time, and pray for Mike's improvement. Please encourage those you know to join us at this time as well and stand in agreement for Mike's healing. One thing I've been learning from a dear friend (thank you, Rene') is to not only ask God for Mike's healing, but to expect it. We need people who will stand on God's word and promise of healing and a future for Mike. Please stand with us and believe in this healing.
Love,
Lauren
Sunday, October 9, 2011
While I'm Waiting
There have been more ups and downs over the past week. The quick re-cap is a) consistent fevers, b) still no white cells or neutrophils. Each day pretty much feels like the day before. When there is a day, or even an hour, of some "highs," I'm afraid to let myself get too excited because I know the "lows" won't be far behind. Mike spent a lot of the last week on meds for nausea and chills (the Ativan/Dilaudid/Demerol/Benedryl cocktail). There were a few days that he spent either sleeping or completely loopy. He would have hallucinations of people or things that were(n't) in the room, or say the strangest things that made no sense. I finally decided it was best not to correct him, but rather to just agree and go with it. It was almost like having a dementia patient on my hands -- both sad and scary. He would even be in a sleep and suddenly start having a conversation with someone who wasn't there, or reach out for things that didn't exist. The doctors, in conjunction with palliative care, finally decided to seriously cut back a lot of his meds. I don't want him to be uncomfortable, but I don't want him to be somewhere else, either.
The week included repeat CT scans and x-rays, each showing no real changes or new areas of concern. The docs continued to juggle his antibiotics based on the results of the daily blood cultures. They even mentioned that they'd like to do a repeat bone-marrow biopsy this coming week to again check the marrow to see what's going on. Mike is on about day 40 since starting chemo, and by every reasonable standard his body should be recovering by now. It isn't.
On Friday morning, during the doctors' rounds, we pretty much got "the talk." The doctor, while obviously trying to remain gently encouraging, was making it clear that they're very concerned with the fact that Mike's body isn't producing any immune cells. Since the doctor wouldn't be in again until Tuesday morning, it's almost as if he was preparing for Mike to get worse between then and next week. He started talking about what Mike's wishes were should his condition worsen, and it be necessary for him to be moved to ICU and require intubation or a breathing machine. (In situations like that, he said, the chance of recovery is about less than one percent.) He then asked us if we had any questions. Mike didn't, but I knew I had to speak up. I knew I had to go out on limb and make something known. I said, "I don't have a question, and I don't normally talk about this stuff, but I just want to say that even though things may not look so good medically, our faith tells us something different. We still believe in a God who heals." In the room of two doctors and three nurses, I seemed to get the polite, pitied smiles, and Mike's primary nurse -- who just happened to be up in the room for a visit -- even put her hand on me as if to tell me it was OK to believe that. The doctor was polite and didn't really challenge me on it, but he again reiterated the seriousness of the situation, and that with no immune system and multiple infections, we wouldn't have gotten this far (over the past nearly six weeks) on faith alone. I can see the concern in everyone's faces. It's almost as if they don't think he will recover. But I know what I've been learning lately, and I had to put that out there. I had to make it known.
Mike is currently on some oxygen, which he really only seems to need while sleeping, and they have him on a heart monitor since his heartrate has been elevated. He isn't eating much at all, and up until tonight hadn't had a bowel movement in over a week. He's so weak that I have to help him get up each time he needs to pee (which seems like it's every hour and a half). Even overnight I stir at every sound he makes. Neither one of us gets much sleep (though at least he gets drugs). Nights are the worst, when things are less busy and more quiet, with less people around. The eerie calm makes me feel even more uneasy and alone.
Yesterday, I bought a dry-erase marker board for the room and have decided to write a "healing promise of the day" to keep before our eyes. Today's is: "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope." ~ Jeremiah 29:11
I also found and have adopted another scripture, that I will pray and pray as I believe for Mike's body to begin healing: "Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD, and depart from evil. It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones." ~ Proverbs 3:5-8
The week included repeat CT scans and x-rays, each showing no real changes or new areas of concern. The docs continued to juggle his antibiotics based on the results of the daily blood cultures. They even mentioned that they'd like to do a repeat bone-marrow biopsy this coming week to again check the marrow to see what's going on. Mike is on about day 40 since starting chemo, and by every reasonable standard his body should be recovering by now. It isn't.
On Friday morning, during the doctors' rounds, we pretty much got "the talk." The doctor, while obviously trying to remain gently encouraging, was making it clear that they're very concerned with the fact that Mike's body isn't producing any immune cells. Since the doctor wouldn't be in again until Tuesday morning, it's almost as if he was preparing for Mike to get worse between then and next week. He started talking about what Mike's wishes were should his condition worsen, and it be necessary for him to be moved to ICU and require intubation or a breathing machine. (In situations like that, he said, the chance of recovery is about less than one percent.) He then asked us if we had any questions. Mike didn't, but I knew I had to speak up. I knew I had to go out on limb and make something known. I said, "I don't have a question, and I don't normally talk about this stuff, but I just want to say that even though things may not look so good medically, our faith tells us something different. We still believe in a God who heals." In the room of two doctors and three nurses, I seemed to get the polite, pitied smiles, and Mike's primary nurse -- who just happened to be up in the room for a visit -- even put her hand on me as if to tell me it was OK to believe that. The doctor was polite and didn't really challenge me on it, but he again reiterated the seriousness of the situation, and that with no immune system and multiple infections, we wouldn't have gotten this far (over the past nearly six weeks) on faith alone. I can see the concern in everyone's faces. It's almost as if they don't think he will recover. But I know what I've been learning lately, and I had to put that out there. I had to make it known.
Mike is currently on some oxygen, which he really only seems to need while sleeping, and they have him on a heart monitor since his heartrate has been elevated. He isn't eating much at all, and up until tonight hadn't had a bowel movement in over a week. He's so weak that I have to help him get up each time he needs to pee (which seems like it's every hour and a half). Even overnight I stir at every sound he makes. Neither one of us gets much sleep (though at least he gets drugs). Nights are the worst, when things are less busy and more quiet, with less people around. The eerie calm makes me feel even more uneasy and alone.
Yesterday, I bought a dry-erase marker board for the room and have decided to write a "healing promise of the day" to keep before our eyes. Today's is: "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope." ~ Jeremiah 29:11
I also found and have adopted another scripture, that I will pray and pray as I believe for Mike's body to begin healing: "Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD, and depart from evil. It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones." ~ Proverbs 3:5-8
Monday, October 3, 2011
Still Thinking of Me
Mike just said the sweetest thing to me. He was lying in bed, trying to get the chills to calm down, and I was tucking him in around his chin. He looked at me and said, "I don't want you to feel neglected." I asked him what he meant, and said I wasn't feeling that way. He said, "I just don't want you to feel neglected in all this.... I haven't been able to hold you." Seeing him starting to get emotional and trying not to get misty-eyed myself, I told him there would be plenty of time for that and not to worry.
I do miss my husband.
I do miss my husband.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
And So We Wait
Evidently, the only thing that will get Mike out of this hospital and back in our home will be for his white cells and neutrophils to start rising. As yet, they are still zilch.
Fevers are still a regular part of the day, preceded by shaking chills. Overnight last night Mike's temperature peaked at 103. With every fever within a 24-hour period, the nurse has to draw blood cultures. It takes a couple days to get those results -- some show bacteria, others don't. The doctors are still on the hunt for a source of these fevers, especially since Mike is on a variety of broad-spectrum antibiotics that should cover each bacteria they have found. Today they did an ultrasound of Mike's legs and abdomen. They were checking the legs for clots, and checking the liver for any blockages. Mike's bilirubin numbers are now elevated, and though they think it's because of all the meds he's on, they had to rule out bigger things. The ultrasound was clear.
Last evening, we had another "incident," though on a much smaller scale than the ordeal of a week ago. As most other days, Mike had received a variety of sedatives to control the nausea and chills, and the last drug given -- Dilaudid -- proved to be too much. He almost immediately became knocked out, which I guess is the point, but he also started breathing a bit funny and had a blood pressure reading of around 155/100. His oxygen level was around 90 or less (should be mid to high 90s). Mike's nurse, Annie, even thought his pupils looked uneven. She paged the house officer, who came in and started examining Mike and asking him questions to try to see how coherent he was. She asked him where he was, to which he answered the name of our hometown instead of the city of the hospital. She asked him what month it was an he said it was February. He was clearly not with it. They started him on the oxygen, did an EKG and then gave him an injection of something used to reverse some of the effects of the sedatives. Shortly thereafter, he was a bit more alert and the doctor was confident that what happened was just a result of too many meds. The doc then discontinued the administration of Ativan for the time being.
Today they had Mike stay on the oxygen for almost the entire day. He did a lot of sleeping, as usual, but he also spent the second part of the day sitting in the recliner instead of lying in bed. With the football games on TV, it was almost like having a tiny taste of being home. I made known to both the doctor and the nurses my concern for all the meds he's being given. I told them that I obviously don't want Mike to be uncomfortable, but let them know he spends way too much of the day and night in a sedated and confused state. To be fair, Mike is also asking for these meds just about as often as he's allowed to get them, but I don't think he realizes how strung out they make him. And it doesn't help that all this hinders Mike from getting up and moving or walking, as he needs to do. It doesn't help that all this has caused him to lose strength and clarity of mind.
Tomorrow the docs may want to do a repeat bronchoscopy to check on what's still brewing in the lungs. They may also check the heart again with an echocardiogram. I don't think there are many more places they can poke, prod, scan or x-ray him.
Please continue to pray for Mike's swift recovery from this ordeal. Please pray against the fevers and infections, and for Mike's marrow to begin making normal, healthy cells. And please stand with us in believing God's promises of health, healing and new beginnings.
Fevers are still a regular part of the day, preceded by shaking chills. Overnight last night Mike's temperature peaked at 103. With every fever within a 24-hour period, the nurse has to draw blood cultures. It takes a couple days to get those results -- some show bacteria, others don't. The doctors are still on the hunt for a source of these fevers, especially since Mike is on a variety of broad-spectrum antibiotics that should cover each bacteria they have found. Today they did an ultrasound of Mike's legs and abdomen. They were checking the legs for clots, and checking the liver for any blockages. Mike's bilirubin numbers are now elevated, and though they think it's because of all the meds he's on, they had to rule out bigger things. The ultrasound was clear.
Last evening, we had another "incident," though on a much smaller scale than the ordeal of a week ago. As most other days, Mike had received a variety of sedatives to control the nausea and chills, and the last drug given -- Dilaudid -- proved to be too much. He almost immediately became knocked out, which I guess is the point, but he also started breathing a bit funny and had a blood pressure reading of around 155/100. His oxygen level was around 90 or less (should be mid to high 90s). Mike's nurse, Annie, even thought his pupils looked uneven. She paged the house officer, who came in and started examining Mike and asking him questions to try to see how coherent he was. She asked him where he was, to which he answered the name of our hometown instead of the city of the hospital. She asked him what month it was an he said it was February. He was clearly not with it. They started him on the oxygen, did an EKG and then gave him an injection of something used to reverse some of the effects of the sedatives. Shortly thereafter, he was a bit more alert and the doctor was confident that what happened was just a result of too many meds. The doc then discontinued the administration of Ativan for the time being.
Today they had Mike stay on the oxygen for almost the entire day. He did a lot of sleeping, as usual, but he also spent the second part of the day sitting in the recliner instead of lying in bed. With the football games on TV, it was almost like having a tiny taste of being home. I made known to both the doctor and the nurses my concern for all the meds he's being given. I told them that I obviously don't want Mike to be uncomfortable, but let them know he spends way too much of the day and night in a sedated and confused state. To be fair, Mike is also asking for these meds just about as often as he's allowed to get them, but I don't think he realizes how strung out they make him. And it doesn't help that all this hinders Mike from getting up and moving or walking, as he needs to do. It doesn't help that all this has caused him to lose strength and clarity of mind.
Tomorrow the docs may want to do a repeat bronchoscopy to check on what's still brewing in the lungs. They may also check the heart again with an echocardiogram. I don't think there are many more places they can poke, prod, scan or x-ray him.
Please continue to pray for Mike's swift recovery from this ordeal. Please pray against the fevers and infections, and for Mike's marrow to begin making normal, healthy cells. And please stand with us in believing God's promises of health, healing and new beginnings.
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