For the past 10 days or so, I had written about the importance of my neutrophil count reaching 500. My team of doctors had indicated that was the magic number to send me home...until it wasn't.
What I didn't count on was the rotation of doctors changing on Monday.
I woke up early on Monday and my nurse came in to tell me my count had climbed to 650. We were both so excited.
All I had to do was wait for the doctors to make their rounds and I'd soon be packing for home.
Dr. Malek and the crew entered the room around 11:00 a.m.
He noticed the deck of Uno cards on the nightstand and talked about that for a few minutes then he said we'd see about getting me out of the hospital by Wednesday if my neutrophil count climbed up to 1,000.
My heart sunk into my belly.
I had to fight back some tears as I listened to rest of what Dr. Malek had to say. I was too stunned and too emotional to ask any questions.
For over a week, everyone from Dr. Cooper to the fellows to the nurses had indicated the magic number was 500. And then it wasn't.
The goalpost moved.
After the doctors left the room, I sent Paulette a text and told her she didn't have to come. I wasn't going home.
She was only a few minutes away and arrived at the hospital a short time later.
She talked to my nurse, one of the many awesome nurses I had during my 20-day stay. The nurse was a bit stunned as well because in their morning meeting it sounded as if they were sending me home.
Even during my morning walk, I ran into one of the doctors, who said, "Your counts went way up last night!" I asked if that meant I was going home and she said there was a good chance of that happening.
It was all so confusing...and disheartening.
Paulette then talked to the fellow and to one of the doctors, Dr. Barna.
Dr. Barna told Paulette she'd see what she could do. A lot depended on the pharmacy having the medication I'd need in stock. She talked to Dr. Cooper and called the pharmacy then came in and told me to pack, I was going home.
After hearing I was stuck in the hospital until maybe Wednesday, my attitude bottomed out. I didn't want to walk, learn Spanish, play the guitar or even argue on Facebook. I was defeated.
That changed when I packed my bags and hit the road for home.
Now, I'm home and will begin Phase II of treatment. I'll return to the hospital each day for blood draws and monitoring.
If all goes well after the first week and a half or so, it could change to three days a week, but I won't count on that!
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