This week–hell, this year–has quickly turned into a new adventure on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. And this week has been a bit of a nightmare.
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
So much has happened with Alan’s cancer diagnosis. He’s officially stage 4B (metastasized prostate cancer). The cancer has spread to the bone. His shoulders, spine, ribcage, pelvis, and legs are all affected. In addition, he’s suffering from severe sciatica. So far, he’s undergone two separate PET scans, six months apart, which showed the “slow” progress of the cancer. Over the past several months, I’ve witnessed the agonizing pain he’s been experiencing along with frighteningly rapid weight loss.
These pictures were taken less than six months apart.
Alan has had to take quite a bit of time off work because of the excruciating pain. He hasn’t been sleeping. On a good night, he’ll sleep for an hour then wake up in pain for two hours, then sleep for another hour, and on and on the whole night through. He can’t function and his temper has gotten really short. When he does go to work, he comes home and immediately lays down to sleep. Then there’s the lack of appetite, which has led to quite a weight loss.
A few weeks ago, out of desperation and in an attempt to at least try to help, I called his doctor to see if he could do anything. I asked about pain management. We knew he would eventually need pain management due to the cancer, but we hadn’t received a referral as of yet. His doctor called in pain meds and put in a referral request for a pain management clinic. After nearly three weeks, we finally received the referral letter, and I called to make an appointment. I immediately called to get him an appointment. The referral was received in October. His appointment December 5! Ummm … he’s in pain NOW. Like, serious pain. That’s an insanely long time to wait. They were nice enough to wait-list him in case someone else cancels.
In the meantime, I fell and broke my leg. Yippee. That’s been, oh so, joyful and fun. Dakota was my hero, calling 911 and waiting with me for the ambulance. He also contacted the people that needed to be in the know. In all of that nonsense, I somehow managed to NOT drop my ice cream cone. It did end up melting, so there’s that. Anyway.
My accident was on Friday, October 3. At the hospital, they splinted it but did not set or cast it because it was going to require surgery to repair, and they don’t do that at the hospital. I, subsequently, went to the orthopedist for an immediate follow-up—within a week. His office started the paperwork to get me into a surgical center to fix the broken tibia. Literally, the day before my surgery, I was notified that the procedure would have to be rescheduled. Three full weeks after I broke my leg, I finally had the surgery to put in a metal plate and nine screws, including one that went from one side to the other.
I assure you, spending three weeks in a splint, flat on my back with my foot elevated, is not fun. Spending three months off work is both a blessing and a curse.
Over the past several weeks Alan has become weak and lethargic, barely able to stand without help, and unable to stand without immediately needing to sit because he’s so lightheaded he’s afraid he’ll pass out. This giant of a man sits and cries in pain, while I sit by feeling completely helpless, unable to do anything to relieve or ease his pain. It’s overwhelming for me and frustrating for him. Sleep is nearly non-existent. No OTC pain medication works. We’ve tried them all.
Again, I called his doctor for help. He asked how much weight he had lost and how quickly. When I told him that it was around 50 pounds in less than six months, he immediately stopped two of his medications and requested that we call back with his blood pressure the next day. Oddly, his blood pressure was low/normal, but it was the pain-induced insomnia and weakness that concerned me. His doctor prescribed Norco, which Alan was none too keen on taking. After a couple of doses, he quickly realized that it was done absolutely NOTHING for his pain.
Everything came to a head on November 12. The evening of the 11th, Alan and I discussed whether or not he should go to the hospital. He was too tired to do it then, so he decided he’d have Dakota take him the next morning. Still laid up with this cast that I’m not supposed to put weight on, they went alone. After spending HOURS in the emergency room—with announcements stating that the ER was at capacity—they finally got him triaged. Hospital staff slapped a red armband on him and then asked if he had any religious preferences that would prevent him from receiving blood products. Ah. Now I get it. That’s what the red band was for.
After a few more hours, hospital staff hooked him up with a blood transfusion because his hemoglobin count was significantly below 13. Then they admitted him. The next morning, they did another hemoglobin count only to discover that it was now 6, lower than the pre-transfusion value. They set him up with a second blood transfusion, this time they gave him a double-pack. He spent another night in the hospital. While at the hospital, they gave him morphine for the pain. Alan said it dulled the pain for a short time and nothing more. Later, they switched him to Dilaudid. That did the trick … for about 90 minutes. Then the pain came back almost full force.
In the meantime, Christian—while driving my car to have a crab dinner with his girlfriend—was making a left turn onto a cross street when he was hit almost head-on by an oncoming car, totaling my car in the process. Once the police arrived and started taking statements and running IDs, they put Christian in cuffs and took him to jail for a warrant that he’s had since before COVID. My car was towed and is currently sitting in an impound lot where it will remain until at least Monday.
Upsides
- Alan’s set up with pain management … eventually and his hemoglobin count is finally up. It’s less than 13, but not as low as 6.
- My leg will heal … eventually.
- Christian’s warrant is (technically) taken care of. He has a court date in 5 months, but that’s no big deal.
- He also didn’t lose his job, which is nice.
- My car—a 2014 Kia with 100,000+ miles—will need to be replaced, which I was planning to do anyway. Just … not yet.
So … how was your week?
Sending positive and healing vibes!