2 is less than 12

My second chemo treatment was scheduled for this afternoon. Shane was scheduled to be in St. Louis in preparation for a wedding this weekend. With only one car, we had some thinking to do on how to get him to a different time zone and me 80 blocks north to the cancer center at the same time. We finally decided that he would fly to St. Louis so I could have the car, and then I would drive on Saturday to join him for the wedding.

With the absence of Shane (my husband, my driver, my entertainment, etc...), I prepared to tackle this treatment independently. I rehearsed the driving directions in my head, packed a book, and charged my iPad. All week, I had been mentally practicing sitting still by myself for three hours. Without Shane there to monitor my behavior, I had to take extra care to put on my "normal" act as I prepared to venture out in public alone. After four hours of work this morning, I quickly changed out of my uniform and scarfed down some lunch. The time had arrived. I made it to the cancer center without getting lost and walked in, bag of time passers over my shoulder, ready for treatment.

The first step was my blood draw. I then waited for it to be analyzed so I could meet with the doctor. As the doctor walked in, his first question was, "What did you do with Mr. Dale Carnegie?" First of all, his name is Shane. Second, I didn't do anything with him. After asking about my experience after the first treatment and checking for all possible side effects, he felt my neck (the origination of the cancer). Up until this point, I have not been feeling/sizing up the lumps in my neck, figuring I will just let the chemo do its work and not be preoccupied with whether or not the tumors are shrinking. He mentioned though that the biggest one felt considerably smaller, and after feeling it myself and looking at it in the mirror I can tell that he is right, it is shrinking!

Next he pulled up my lab work on the computer. He had me read the chart as if I was some sort of med student. The first line of the chart was my white blood cell count. Two weeks ago before any treatment it was 12. This week it was 1.9, too low to give chemo. Chemo targets rapidly growing cells such as cancer, hair, and white blood cells. If the white blood cell count gets too low, chemo cannot be given because it will drop the count even lower, putting the person at a high risk of infection. Being the scheduler, planner, and OCD-er that I am, this throws a wrench my very well planned treatment schedule. I have to go back next week to try again, and I also have to add another step to the treatment regimen. The day after my treatments, I have to go back and have a shot that will boost my white blood cell count.

The good news with this delay is that I will be more than feeling okay to drive the five hours to St. Louis for the wedding. Watch out St. Louis, I'm bringing my dancin' shoes 'cause my tumors are shrinkin'!