DAILY NANCY UPDATE #118

Greetings. 

This is the one hundred and eighteenth in a series of DAILY NANCY UPDATES I will be posting until the amazing Nancy Neufeld Callaway is in full remission and we have kicked her leukemia on its ass. 

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FRIDAY REPORT

Things were going really well. 

On Thursday, Nancy had her first return outpatient clinic visit at City of Hope. She got the dressing completely changed on the Hickman Line port in her chest which she's had since February and helps facilitate swift blood draws and medicine infusions. Then she had an amazing consultation with Dr. Forman, who was as elated as I was about how mentally sharp she was-- firing on pretty much all cylinders, cracking jokes, and even candidly discussing her occasional confusion and concern about not being able to remember what happened to her. He assured us both again that was completely normal-- and her short term memory issues would subside. When we went to bed that night, she was very tired-- and a little more confused-- but as the doctor had told us earlier, that's typical. After all, we all get a little confused and cranky when we're tired.

Then came this morning. 

I got up at 5:30AM to prepare her 6AM meds-- and was pleased to see her sleeping peacefully. It seemed like a nice start to what I knew would be a busy day-- not only taking care of her-- but also attending two very important meetings I had scheduled in the morning and the afternoon.

A beat later, Shirley came out to the kitchen to tell me that Nancy had slept very well-- only getting up once in the night. No more than a couple of minutes went by, as I finished prepping her meds. But when I entered to room to wake her-- I was surprised to find the bed empty. And when I went into the bathroom, I got the biggest surprise of all.

Nancy was standing in front of the mirror-- and had just completely removed her entire Hickman line-- tearing off all the sterile bandaging, peeling away the stat lock and safety padding, even finding a pair of scissors in the bathroom to cut the tubing right up to where it entered her chest.

I couldn't contain my own shock. "Oh no, what did you do?" I asked-- prompting her to look back at me matter-of-factly with an unapologetic reply. "It was bothering me," she said.

Of course, I was terrified. The line went directly into an artery behind her heart. If she had injured herself internally, it could have been deadly. And the risk of infection was also dangerous.

I rushed to get Shirley, who took one look-- then calmly (and thankfully) told me not panic. So as she quickly improvised a sterile bandage to cover the wound, I raced to get dressed and call City of Hope's emergency treatment center.

I got Nancy into my truck and drove like a bat out of hell to get her there-- calling her doctor and the triage nurses along the way. When we arrived, the swiftly assessed the situation and agreed with Doctor Forman that a chest x-ray needed to be immediately done to make sure there were no internal injuries-- then the remainder of the line had to be permanently removed. 

Our dear friend Ceci was scheduled to spend the day with Nancy at our house. But when I reached out to tell her what happened, she sweetly agreed to drive all the way back out to City of Hope to be there with us in case I needed to try and make my meetings.

Please understand-- my absolute priority was being there for Nancy-- who was already thinking pretty clearly at that point and feeling pretty bad about having done something she didn't remember doing.

But in addition to sucking-- cancer is also ridiculously expensive-- even with really great insurance (thanks, WGA Pension and Health)! So I also need to keep my professional life rolling.

Unfortunately, I had to postpone my first meeting. 

But fortunately, once the chest x-ray showed no internal injuries-- the doctor was able to give Nancy a local anesthetic and easily remove the remainder of her Hickman Line in a brief procedure. 

Ceci was kind enough to stay with her and get her home afterward. And I raced home to change, gather my notes and my wits, then head for my second meeting.

Needless to say, it was a very long day-- like a microcosm of the last two months, really-- filled with fear and worry, but also relief and joy-- especially when our friends Bob and Karen came over to hang with us.

From now on, Nancy will have to endure blood draws from her arm, the old fashioned way.

And until her confusion totally dissipates, we'll all need to keep a closer eye on the Sunshiny Superwarrior Goddess. I can tell she's uncomfortable being shadowed. And I know she wants to be in control of her own body and space. What's more, I really hate feeling like some kind of uptight, rule-making, overlord.

But it's my job to protect her-- even if right now, it's occasionally from herself.

WE LOVE NANCY, and... 

ALL IS WELL!

Meal Train For The Callaways