From 0 to 90

Christmas Day brought good food, family fun and a few hours at the hospital waiting for my blood to be drawn and reviewed by the doctor on call. The doctor wanted me to wait at the hospital in case I needed platelets or a blood transfusion. Fortunately, I needed neither. My platelets and white blood count are very low, but not as low as they were after the initial chemo session. I just have to avoid germs and I can’t use sharp objects – like knives! Whitney, Steve and Deborah are doing all the cooking. I’m doing all the sitting.

My 90 year old mother lives at Stratford Court, a senior living community in Boca Raton. She has dementia but was thrilled to know that she was a great-grandmother. My kids thought it very important that we bring her to the house on Christmas Day for dinner. She enjoyed her few hours out of her apartment and the delicious dinner Whitney prepared but mostly she really enjoyed her few hours holding Sophia. The photo included with this blog represents 4 generations of females in my family – my mother Helen Mowbray, 90; me, years younger than my mother; my daughter Whitney, 28; and Sophia, 0 (3 months).

Constant Reminders

So many good things are happening to make my homecoming and holiday happy.

Because I am now feeling good, I forget I am recovering from Chemotherapy and need constant medical attention. The Oncology Hematologist at the Lynn Cancer Center here in Boca are taking care of me while I’m home – constantly monitoring my blood and condition and treating me when necessary. They fax the blood test results and other info to my medical team at MD Anderson so they know how I’m doing. So, each day I spend 2-3 hours at the clinic in Boca – a constant reminder that my life has changed.

Early Christmas Present

On September 22nd I became the grandmother of little Sophia Madeleine. I held her first in late October (right before my diagnosis) and was hoping upon hope that I would get to see her again over Christmas. Last night I received a letter from Sophia (in her father's handwriting) telling me she was coming to Florida for Christmas! The Letter said. "I hope you are feeling better from being sick. I know it won't be a big Christmas this syear, but I still wanted to give you a small gift - ME!!! I'm coming with Mommy and Daddy on Wednesday. I can't wait to see you! Love, Sophia."

What a great surprise. Isn't she adorable?

I AM going to have a Christmas!

Dr. Estrov told me to go home and live. I’m beginning to do just that. I feel so much better and have already gained back a few pounds. I'm actually enjoying eating. Today, Whitney arrived from New York City. Of course, it was the day of the two feet of snow in the northeast and I was worried that she will be delayed or not make it at all. Fortunately, her flight was one of the few that got out of JFK and she arrived just a few hours later than scheduled. She did have some harrowing experiences, though, like walking down 72nd Street in two feet of snow, lugging her luggage, at 5:00 in the morning, looking for a cab!

Whitney came home, we had lunch and then we start putting up the Christmas tree – something I didn’t think that I would do this year. I love putting up the tree as my ornaments represent my family’s life over the past 42 years. The ornaments bring back so many great memories. The tree is up, but there will be no presents under the tree this year. I am healing, but my blood is beginning to break down from the Chemo and I cannot go out in public places. No immune system so NO SHOPPING. That is a good thing – we have so much to be grateful for this year we don’t need to BUY presents. All of us being together is present enough this year.

Homeward Bound

Up at 4:30 a.m. and off to the airport by 5:00 a.m. John and Sue took me to the airport even though they both had to go to work later in the day. I love them so much. My flight left at 7:30 a.m. central time so I thought I would be home in Boca Raton by about 10:30 a.m. eastern time. I ordered myself a wheel chair on the advice of my friend Jaynie Smith. The Houston airport is gigantic and Jaynie thought that walking to my gate would be too much for me in this condition. I hated to, but I took her advice and was glad I did. Jaynie also used her Continental points to get me upgraded to first class. I was so thankful to be in row 3 and not in the back of the airplane. I wore a mask the entire trip and no one asked me why. I was too sick to take advantage of the hot breakfast first class offered and was happy to have the mask to mask the smell of food. The flight was great until the captain announced that we would be an hour delayed in landing because of storms in Ft. Lauderdale. After circling through the clouds we landed safely in the pouring rain – 14 inches I heard! My son Mike was there to greet me as well as my good friend Brian Neff.

After 6 weeks of hospitals, hypodermics and Houston, I was HOME!

Entering my house was an emotional experience. Of course, my amazing friends had stocked my pantry and refrigerator. Mike made me the simplest of all comfort foods – a grilled cheese. It was delicious! I hadn’t eaten in four days and was down to 118 pounds. That grilled cheese was the start of my eat-a-thon – with each meal I felt better and better.

Another Sad Separation

Today, I drag myself to the Clinic for blood work then an appointment with Dr. Estrov. I still haven’t eaten and couldn’t feel lousier. It is hard for me to focus on anything but NOT gagging. Fortunately, I’m cleared to take my early morning flight to Ft. Lauderdale even though I can’t imagine being in an airport and on a plane feeling this terrible. When I get home I’ll have to visit the local Hematologists for blood work and other care at least twice a week.

I’m also struggling with another separation anxiety. For the past 6 weeks I have been with the Ogles – John and Sue – one way or another. We’ve shared a lot of laughs and many cries. They have taken such good care of me. Even though I’m so looking forward to going home I’m sad to leave them. The good thing though is that I’ll be back in January!

Sick, Sick Sick

The last three days I’ve take Chemo as an out-patient. Thanks to Sue and John for driving me to the clinic each day as it has poured rain every day here in Houston. This round was so much harder on me. I don’t know if it was the fact that I was an out-patient and didn’t get the right amount of fluids and anti-nausea medicine, but I felt much sicker and hated the fact I had to walk through the hospital and ride back to Sue’s feeling so sick. I go home and go right to bed. I haven’t eaten a thing since Monday. I hate feeling so bad!

Hamburgers, Steaks and Haagen-Dazs – Oh My?

The first days out of the hospital were strange for me. Believe it or not just walking up steps was a challenge! Being confined to a 10 x 10’ space for 30 days takes its toll on your strength and energy.

My first out-patient visit to the Clinic revealed some shocking info. I met with the Research Nurse, Leukemia Fellow, and Dr. Estrov – the doctor who will be following my case for the next 18 months. I found out that I will be taking a total of 17 rounds of chemo – yes 17! I almost fainted. Why, when I’m in remission do I NEED so much Chemo? "To give you the best chance of STAYING in remission," they said. I’m definitely going to have to take this one day at a time. Looking forward to 17 months of Chemo is way too depressing.

And, get this, because I did so well with my first chemo and because my numbers have rebounded so well, I get to start a second round of Chemo on Monday!

Two good thing that came out of this meeting. The first is that Dr. Estrov told me I needed to eat, eat, eat! "Hamburgers, steaks and Haagen-Dazs," he said! How many people would love to get that prescription from their doctor?? The second good thing is - I can go home to Boca on Friday Dec. 18th if I get through the second Chemo with as good results as the first. Now that is something for me to celebrate!

(Re)mission Accomplished!

Today is a day for celebration! My early morning bone marrow aspiration revealed that I AM IN COMPLETE REMISSION! Now, this is not the end of My Unexpected Journey but it is the best news delivered in more than a month and news that brings hope for a future. Thanks to the hundreds of you who have kept me in your thoughts and prayers and who have sent positive energy to me. It has helped me heal and will continue to do so.

The remission news, of course, is the highlight of this day but other important things did occur - like, I WAS DISMISSED. Yes, I was sent home - to Sue and John's house and spent my first night since 11/4 sleeping in a non-hospital bed. Heaven! I thought the first thing I would do when I stepped into the house was take a shower but - no! I have to wait 48 hours after a bone marrow aspiration to shower. So, Wednesday at 11:00 a.m. is my appointed shower time. Gosh, I'm suprised anyone can stand to be around me.

Before I could be dismissed Sue and I had to attend a class on caring for my port, learning to flush the lines and change the dressing. Sue will be doing this for me everyday while I have the port in my arm (and am in Houston). I was allowed out of my room to walk to the other side of the hospital to attend the class. I wondered if I could walk that far with my IV pole and all after not walking more than 10 steps at a time in so long. After the class we had to pass a test given by someone from the IV Therapy Team. Quite a few laughs and mistakes were made before receiving the OK to go home.

When all was packed and finished the nurse sent for that white sleigh (the one that took me into the Twilight Zone) to take me to the waiting car and my first breath of fresh air in 31 days. It was emotional to say good-bye to the nurses who took care of me for so long. I'll never forget them. My next doctor's appointment is Thursday when I will find out what my course of treatment will be over the next 7 months. To date, though, (Re)mission Accomplished!

Is it Possible - I'm Sad - About Leaving?

Tomorrow I'm being dismissed from the hospital after my bone marrow aspiration to go home to Sue and John's house. YEA! I can finally shower, use a real toilet and dine with others. Why, then, am I feeling so depressed? I am beginning to realize that "protective environment" means more that just protection from germs! It has also been protection from the entire outside world full of stresses and worries. Now, on the "outside", I have to adhere to the Clinic outpatient schedule, find ways to get to the Clinic, take Chemo as an outpatient, heal at Sue and John's for a few days, fly home to Florida, see my mother, take care of my home, think about work and then the come back to Houston two week later and do everything all over again. YIKES! Yes, for 30 days, I have been totally protected. The doctors, nurse practioners, nurses and nursing assistants have been fabulous and taken great care of me every day. I will miss them all.

When Leda and Ajini came in to see me today, I started to cry and told them I was sad and frightened about leaving. They said it was quite common. Of course, why did I think I was the only one? They told me I would do great on "the outside." I know I will. It's just another giant step on this unexpected journey!

Frozen Shut

Many of the nursing staff got here late today because their cars were frozen shut after the slushy snow that fell yesterday in Houston then froze overnight. I, of course, was snug in my room looking out. Remember I'm in "Protective Environment?" Fortunately, I feel much better today. After I signed off yesterday my fever went to 102 and I felt quite louzy the rest of the day. "Just the bone marrow growing back," they said. Whew! Today, I had a special surprise - long time friends from my Middletown, OH years, Judy and Tom Tough, who now live in Dallas came to visit with me. We hadn't seen each other in 10 years - but the visit was like we had seen each other yesterday. That's the way it is with good friends. My amazing friends! The day ended sadly with the Gators losing to Alabama. It's only a football game,I told myself. June, you are here conquering CANCER! Much different, much bigger!

Let It Snow!

Today it is snowing in Houston. Everyone is excited and the nursing staff keeps coming into the patient rooms to look outside at the snow falling. They get snow about every ten years here. I’m glad to be inside looking out. I feel really rotten today with all the aches in my joints. It is hard to believe that this is my worst day as far as feeling bad. When the doctor came in I told him I could hardly move my arms. He said it was the bone marrow growing back. Well that is good news as my last bone marrow aspiration on Monday this week came back empty. I think I’m going to take a pain killer. They usually knock me out – so for now it’s over and out!

Chocolate Contraband

Today has been a down day for me. After talking to the nurse practitioner I realized I have months (7 at least) of Chemo left. It will be harder as I’ll be an outpatient and have to come to the clinic every month for 5 days to receive the Chemo then go back to Sue and John’s to recuperate for a week and hopefully be able to come home for two weeks in between. I’ll have no immunity and no platelets but will now be out in the world instead of in the hospital in protective environment. I’ll probably have to go to a local Hematologist in Boca to draw my blood every day that I’m home. If I get a fever or sick they would have to treat me.

Sandy checked into an organization called Angel Flight – a group of volunteers who transport cancer patients home and back for treatment. We are waiting to hear from them. They travel out 1000 miles. Houston to Ft. Lauderdale is 986 miles! Whew!

They did tell me though that I came through the Chemo better than any patient they have seen. I’m hoping that is a tribute to my good health and condition. I pray it continues through the rest of the Chemo. Also, my joints, especially my shoulders hurt so bad – it is hard to get comfortable. Don’t know what that is. John and Sue came to visit tonight and experienced the new visitors’ room. Now that this department moved back to its original floor visitors stay in a small room with a window and talk by telephone! Sue was still able to smuggle some contraband to me – delicious chocolates and caramels. Yum!

The List

Day #23 – My platelets jumped to 94 (normal begins at 140 and goes to 440). My white blood cells have elevated to .5 but need to go up to at least 5. I’m hoping for a bigger jump for tomorrow. The new TV’s still don’t work in our new rooms so reading and surfing the internet will take up my time and talking on the phone. I don’t know how I would get along without the phone.

I thought you might like to see FYI a list of things I HAVE NOT DONE in almost 30 days:

• Taken a shower (yep, there are germs in pipes and in standing water, so no showering - sponge baths every day. I'm going to need a full body exfoliation when I get out of here!)
• Used a toilet (the worst! many germs are released when you flush so we go on pots with bags that are then examined and weighed - eeeeewwwwwwwww!)
• Worn a stitch of underwear! Nothing more to be said here.
• Shared a meal with another person (while I can have visitors they cannot remove their masks in the room and therefore cannot eat in my room)
• Used any sharp objects like a razor or toenail clippers (with platelets so low even a small cut or bleed could be disastrous)
• Walked more than 8 steps before having to turn around (in this 10 x 10 foot room with furniture it is hard to get your heart rate up even with pulling your IV pole.) I do have a little bike simulator that I sit in a chair and peddle several times a day.
• Gone to bed without side rails up and bed alarm on! (Even if I sit up to get a drink of water the alarm goes off and the nurse comes running in to make sure I'm OK. Again a fall or bleed could be devastating.) We laugh about it now.
• Stepped one foot outside these four walls. One day my daughter held the door open when she was leaving so that I could look out to the nurses station. We felt like we were misbehaving

Movin' On Up

Day #22 – My new doctor is Dr. Cortes. He seems nice. My platelets have jumped to 65 another piece of good news. The bone marrow test indicated that my bone marrow is still empty. Not good or bad result. We will do another next Monday and then I’ll be dismissed to go to Sue and John’s house. He said at least my marrow was not full of Leukemia cells. Yes, I’m grateful for that. Tonight we moved to a new floor – to where the protective environment floor had been two years ago. It was quite a procedure. The visitors have to stay out of the room in a small glass room and talk to the patient via telephone. It will be really difficult for the visitors. I’m glad I’ll only be here another 5 days or so.

I Wanna Be Sedated

Day #21 is the last day for me to have Dr. Jabbour. The Doctors rotate and now he is going into the clinic. I hope I get to see him again but he will not be my doctor when I’m dismissed to the clinic. I’ll miss him. He told me my platelets were up to 35 today. A nice leap from yesterday. White blood cells are still lagging. I had another bone marrow aspiration today to see what is happening in my marrow. Please let the results be good ones. Whitney stayed during the procedure. They gave me a sedative and it knocked me out for about 4 hours. I couldn’t believe I slept so much.

True Blood

Day #20 – Did I mention that they wake you up every morning at 4:00 a.m. to take your vital signs and weigh you? Yes everyday at 4:00 a.m. I’m getting weighed!! Then a few minutes later the phlebotomist (affectionately called vampires) comes in to draw your blood so the reports will be back by the time the doctors come in about 8:00 a.m. My blood work today indicated that my platelets are 15! Coming up!

Whitney Returns

Day #19 – Brings Whitney back to visit. She arrived too late last night to stop in on Friday but we have today, tomorrow and half day on Monday. My blood work is creeping up with my Platelets today being 5. Still a long way to go but better than 1.

Bored Certified

Day #18 shows that my platelets and white blood cells have not yet started to regenerate. I’m getting anxious but they say it is normal. My doctor tells me I’m very boring. What, me boring? He means it in a good way – no problems!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Day #17 – I am giving thanks today that I have three wonderful children, fabulous friends in the Ogles, Sandy, Cheryl, Jaynie, Dennis/Jo, Barbara, Brian/Whitney, my cousins Nancy and Tina and so many more. I have received 100’s -- maybe a thousand -- of get well wishes and prayers. I cry everyday at the love that is being sent my way. It has humbled me. Sue and John came to visit early. Then I ordered the turkey dinner and watched football. I don’t know why they put all the Texas teams on television here in Houston – but that is what I have to watch!!


Thank you, Sue! (I think it's you under those clothes)

Thanksgiving Eve

Day #16 is the day before Thanksgiving. Everyone (my kids and the Ogles) are upset as I will have to celebrate the day alone in this room. No one can eat with me as anyone in my room must be masked. So I’ll order the Turkey tomorrow and talk on the phone. I’m here bargaining for more time. I’m acting like this is work and I do what they tell me (yes I do!). I can sacrifice one Thanksgiving for the hope of many more.

Celebrate Good Times

Day #15 – Today is another day for celebration! I just found out additional results from my earlier bone marrow aspiration that my chromosomes are diploid. What does that mean? It means that my chromosomes are healthy and normal which gives me a better chance of going and staying in remission. They usually do not do a bone marrow transplant on the first remission if the patient has DIPLOID Chromosomes. That is a relief as a transplant is very costly and involved.

Fortunate Son

After sharing her leftover "Asian Stir Fry", June also shares the fortune from her fortune cookie with her Son Stephen...

Connect the Dots

Day #13. Now I’m adding to my chemo rash with peticci (I’m way off on the spelling here). These are red dots indicating my platelets are low. They are everywhere except my face. Steve is leaving today.


Enjoying the view from my "cell"

Do Not Get Discouraged

A note from one of the nurses on the whiteboard in June's room:


"Do not get discouraged! :)"

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Day #12 – these next 10 days are the waiting days. The Chemo has (hopefully) killed all the Leukemia cells in my bone marrow and blood and now we are waiting for my body to regenerate good cells and put me into remission. They keep a careful eye on me as my platelets are at 1 (normal is 140 to 440). That means even a small bleed could be deadly. I would have no platelets to stop the bleeding. I’m allowed no sharp objects like toe nail clippers or razors and every night they put up my side rails and put my bed alarm on. They don’t want me to exercise at all as even a muscle tear could prove detrimental.

Don't Do Something Rash

Day #11 – I still have my hair, which I’m happy about even though I have ordered a wig. As a reaction to the chemo I have a terrible rash over all of my body. It is very ugly and itches me so bad. They have cream to put on it but it is very annoying.

Snickers Satisfies

Day #10 – Two things to celebrate today – Steve arrived and I received my last Chemo shot. We celebrated with a snickers bar (or several) taken from Sue’s grandson’s Halloween candy stash.

Pretty in Pink

I visited Mom for the first time today. Other than the wires and tubes coming out of her, she is her normal beautiful self! I asked myself: "this person has cancer?".

We are enjoying every minute together. I don't mind the "clean room" garb, but wearing these gloves makes it hard to use my new touch-screen phone. :-)

-Stephen


This person has cancer?


If only all my clothes were disposable after use...

More Shots

Day #8 and #9 bring more of the same, just two Chemo shots. Sue and John visit so much. I hate taking them out of their routine. I’m just so thankful they are here to help me get through this. I couldn’t do it without them.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

Day #7 – Continuing the shots of Chemo but they do not seem to affect me much so I don’t dread them. I haven’t mentioned my team of doctors and nurses and aides. They are ALL wonderful. My doctor – Elias Jabbour – is fabulous. He is knowledgeable and has a great bedside manner. He wanted me to concentrate on getting through this Chemo and going into remission and asked me not to concentrate on the prognosis. He told me not to worry – that he would worry for me and if he came in with a worried face – I could start worrying! When he comes in he pulls his mask down so that I can see that he is smiling. I look forward to seeing him every day. The fellow doctor that comes with him is Dr. Parikh. Another great human being. Sometimes there are 5-6 doctors, students, etc. who come on rounds. I never see their faces so one day I asked them to take their masks down so I could see how handsome they were. They did and we all had a good laugh. My favorite nurse practitioners are Mary and Marie. These two ladies work so hard. Whitney left today.

Room Service

Day #6 – no IV Chemo. The day started out great as I did not have to dread the 3:30 hour. I’m feeling a little better so I try to eat some oatmeal for breakfast and a baked potato later in the day. I’m down 12 pounds right now but no one seems concerned. The food system is very interesting here at MD Anderson. They have a menu and you order like you are having room service. In fact, they call it room service and all the deliverers come in Tuxedos. Of course, I only see their eyes as everyone who enters my room is gowned, gloved, masked and hair netted.

Marrow-thon

Today, family friend Kim Kanouse ran a 5k marathon in NYC in honor of June and others to support cancer research. Thank you Kim for all your love and support!


"In Honor of..."

Whitney's Update

Whitney visited Mom for the first time today. Here is an excerpt from an email she sent to Michael and Stephen:

"Hey Bro's!

Saw mom for the first time at 130pm Today-she looked beautiful. We sat and chatted about everything from Mimi to all the support she has been receiving and most importantly what she wants to be doing when she springs out of here: eating a pepperoni pizza on the beach! Be sure to have all the supplies ready Steve...;)

Although the first couple hours were great and mom was in good spirits she developed a rash from the Chemo last night. It is causing a lot of irritation and uncomfortable moments but a small bump she needs to get over during this time. She is resting now in peace and quiet as this was her 4th installment of the Chemo from the drip bag. It ends tomorrow and then they move into the shots. As I know Mike experienced, during and after the chemo is moms darkest hour and that is when she gets a little emotional, can you believe she feels like she is burdening us. Always the Mother and always wanting to ensure others have before she does.

You can tell that she feels stronger when you are sitting in the room with her, just like she has done for us over the years. We were thinking of Sophia and can't wait for more pictures (and I just can't wait to hold her) she got a high five from Sophia the other day!!

Just wanted to give an update from the days events! Met a wonderful Cancer survivor at the car rental place who spent her treatment here at MD Anderson and emerged a stronger person! She gave me a free upgrade to a full-size G6, Pontiac.

Love you both very much! Mike thanks for leading the cause with Mom and doing all of the things Steve and I can't while in Atlanta and NYC-it is very much appreciated and we wouldn't be able to support mom like she deserves if it wasn't for you.

Xoxoxoxo

Talk to you tomorrow!"

Couture Du Jour

Day #5 means the last day of the IV Chemo for now. I can’t wait until it is over. Whitney and I celebrate at 5:30 p.m. when it is over – but I’m not feeling good enough to eat yet. Earlier in the day Whitney and Sue went shopping for me to get me some clothes to wear instead of the ugly hospital gowns. Since I have a permanent IV I cannot slip on any tops. Sue cut the tank top and sewed ribbons so that I can wear cute and colorful “things” every day. I get up and put my make-up on and dress everyday. I might be sick but I don’t have to look sick! I still have all my hair but they said it could fall out after day 21 and I might wake up and find it in my bed. That could be a bad day!


Scarlet & Gray outfit for Buckeye Football!


Miami Dolphin blue!

Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th is a good day for me as Whitney comes to visit. But it is also Day #4 and my 4th bag of Chemo. The hot chemicals race through my body and I’m just willing them to kill all the Leukemia Cells. My friend Cheryl sent me tapes to listen to while taking the chemo which have been helpful.

A Bad Case of Pukaphobia

Day #3 I have a slight fever and they want to do a throat culture right while I’m getting bag #3 of Chemo. Those of you who know me well know that I have a bad case of pukaphobia – the fear of throwing up! Well, the Chemo plus swabbing my throat ended my 35 year record being throw up free! Sigh! The fever turned out to be nothing – but they worry so about fevers as my white blood cells and platelets are being totally depleted by the chemo.

Two Shots and One Bag

Day #2 is the same as Day #1 – two shots and one bag. I’m feeling bad, but not horrid. I can get through this. Still not eating but they don’t seem to mind. Sue snuck me in some Saltines to help with my stomach and give me at least a little food I can swallow.

Solitary Confinement

Today is the day June was moved from the emergency area and a regular hospital room to "isolation". All visitors and staff must wear a hairnet, mask, gown, gloves, and shoe coverings. All packages/bags must be wiped down, and guests are not allowed to eat or drink in the room. All these precautions are taken since June's immune system is basically non-existant and any small infection that would normally not be a problem can cause major complications.


Mike sporting his hospital garb

First Day of Chemo

The big day – my first bag of Chemo, but not until 3:30 p.m. I had one shot last night but is was not bad. I’m dreading this and I have to wait all day. The appointed time comes and I feel the hot chemicals spreading throughout my body. A bad feeling – uncomfortable. 5:30 p.m. the bag is empty and I’m still OK. Nauseated but not sick – yet! I haven’t eaten in days anyway – I’m only down 10 lbs so not too bad. Another shot of Chemo at 8:30 p.m. So here is my schedule Clofarabine (bag – IV) at 3:30 p.m. everyday and Cytarabine shot at 8:30 a.m. and 8:30 p.m.

Mike leaves in the late afternoon. I’m sad to see him go. Day #1 – over!

The Package

Ok, so how does all this work – this no toilet thing? “Well,” says my male nurse Ike, “you wrap your – stuff – in TWO bags and then push the call button and ask to have someone come and remove it!”
Really?
“Really! It’s not so bad. We’re used to it”

Now, I’m pacing the floor ready to make my first call.
Oh, June, just do it for Pete’s sake!
I PRESS the call button.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Errr, um, yes hello! I have um a PACKAGE to be removed from my room.
“Alright I send someone in to get it.”
Oh, God, please put me under this bed instead of on top of it when that someone comes in!

Entering the Twilight Zone

Treatments will start tomorrow – so tonight I would be moved to the “Protective Environment” floor – in other words Solitary Confinement! Once the treatment begins my platelets and white blood cells will drop so low I have to be in isolation! Yikes!

To enter the “Protective Environment” the nurse told me to do the following: Shower and wash my hair, put on two sterile gowns, two shoe covers, hairnet, mask and gloves. Then sit in a designated chair covered with white sheets. Mike and the Ogles were standing around thinking – “What the hell is happening here?”

When transportation arrived – my vehicle was a white plastic sleigh – yes sleigh – that they then proceeded to covered with more white sheets. Are you taking me for a ride through Central Park? I asked pleadingly. Unfortunately the answer was NO. Little did I know though – I was about to enter the Twilight Zone. With Mike, Sue and John behind off we went through hall after hall – white sheets fluttering and doors slamming behind us.

When we arrived at our designated destination I got off the sleigh, took off one pair of booties and stepped into the “clean” room again being asked to take everything off and put on a new gown. Little did I know that this 10 x 10 foot space would be my sole home for the next 28 days! And, oh by the way – in protective environment – there are no toilets and no showers! Huh? I’m in the most state of the art cancer center in all the world – and I’ll be camping? Germs spread in shower pipes and in standing water and flushing a toilet spreads germs throughout – so in protective environment THERE WILL BE NONE of that!

Yikes! I have truly entered the Twilight Zone!

Assessment

The past two days were spent in a normal hospital room while the doctors and nurses assessed my situation and decided on what treatment. I was placed in a study that has been going on since mid-2007 using a combination of the drugs Clofarabine and Cytarabine. Bags of the Clofarabine and shots of the Cytarabine. The hope is remission after the first round – then the treatment (protocol) continues for another 6 months. I was allowed visitors – so I was glad that Mike was still there and Sue and John and two of their girls Tracy and Lindsay were able to spend some time with me.

My Prince

I’m still in shock at the events that have occurred in the last 48 hours when this handsome young man comes into my emergency room and introduces himself as Prince.
Prince, I said. Really?
“Yep, really!”
OK, Prince, what are you going to do for me today?
“I’m going to do a bone marrow aspiration and I’m going to do a lot better job that the one you had yesterday! There will be no bruising.”
Really?
“Really!”

And he was right. A little bravado, yes, but I started realizing at that moment these people here at MD Anderson are experts in Leukemia and since I have this terrible disease – this is definitely the best place to be. I started to feel better

The Eagle Has Landed

At 4:30 a.m. the car service picked Mike and me up to go to the airport and I was in Houston TX, just 48 hours after the diagnosis! The miraculous thing about Houston is the fact that my wonderful long time friends of 42 years, John and Sue Ogle, live in Houston and were at the airport to pick me (and Mike) up and care for me during this unexpected journey. Am I lucky or what? We go right to the Emergency Room at MD Anderson and await the check in process. At least 30 vials of blood drawn, a port put into my right arm and another bone marrow aspiration – my second in 24 hours! But, this is where I met my prince!

Houston, We've Have a Problem

Thursday November 5th brought doctors, bone marrow extractions and visitors – many many visitors – all my fabulous friends. What did I do to deserve such amazing friends? You will see what I mean soon. Late that afternoon the doctor came in to say that I could stay in Boca to be treated with a 30% survival rate – but she said that if I were her mother she would take me to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston for the best treatment in the world. Well, I’ll go to MD Anderson, of course. She asked if I was willing to make that significant effort. Make the effort? Make the effort to LIVE? Yes, yes please get me in! She left the room to arrange. In the room at the time were my friends Sandy Blake, Cheryl Valenti, Mel Zucker and Kathy Murdock. About an hour later the doctor came back in to say it was arranged and I need to get to Houston ASAP. Everyone went to work – Sandy’s calling Continental Airlines, Mel’s finding a car service to take me to the airport at 4:30 a.m. and Cheryl is making a list of things I’ll need to pack. Kathy is just shaking her head saying “I don’t have any friends like this! This is amazing.” Yes, my very amazing friends.

That night I had to swallow 16 chemo pills (Hydrea) – 16! The nurse wore three pairs of rubber gloves just to unpackage these pills and I was going to SWALLOW them. Fortunately, Brian and Whitney were visiting and every 5 minutes Brian reminded me I had to swallow a pill – I had to get them all down in the next couple of hours! Whitney and I use the same hairdresser so she said she would handle the procurement of a wig. A WIG! My hair is going to fall out and I’m going to need a wig – what is happening here? My amazing friends to the rescue.

The Diagnosis

On Wednesday, November 4th my life changed forever after I received the devastating dreadful diagnosis of Acute Monocytic Leukemia (AML). June Wolfe (me) – the person who is never sick and who hardly ever took even one aspirin for a headache – has leukemia! Telling you that I went into shock after hearing the diagnosis is putting it mildly. Fortunately, my wonderful friend Sandy Blake was with me. I could hear her in the background – cursing!

Here’s how it came about. As I look back in hindsight I realize I had not been feeling my best for awhile. I remember standing at the bottom of the steps at work (two flights that I ran up and down every day for years) began looking intimidating and it would be a struggle to walk up especially if I had something to carry. Strange, but not something that made me stop and think that I was sick. On October 22nd I drove up to Atlanta with Steve to see my new granddaughter, Sophia Madeleine, and had a swollen tongue and my gums would bleed when I brushed. Hmmmm! My energy level was low the entire weekend. Coming home on the plane I felt feverish.

Being me (it will go away if I ignore it), I continued my normal routine, never getting sicker or getting better, but on Tuesday, November 3rd I went to the dentist to see about my black and blue and bleeding gums. Dr. Courtney said that he had never seen anything like it and he felt it was not a dental issue. On the way home I went to a walk in clinic where they tested my blood. That evening they called me to say that the blood work came back so wacky (their words exactly) they thought it was a “lab error” and asked that I retake the test so I went back to the clinic for another blood draw. In the morning they called to tell me it was NOT an error and that I needed to see a Hematologist immediately – that it was urgent. Fear is beginning to creep in!

Dr. Alan Koletsky, who I had never met before this moment, had to deliver the bad news to me - ACUTE MONOCYTIC LEUKEMIA. Ok so now I know – Acute Monocytic Leukemia! What does that mean? What do I do now? “Well,” Dr. Koletsky said, “you need to go to the hospital immediately.” Can I go home and pack a few items for the hospital? “Yes, you can go home to pack a few items but be at the hospital in one hour!”

Sandy and I are driving home now – not really saying anything. I mean, what is there to say except f—k, how did I get here? Sandy interrupts the silence by saying, “You had better call your kids!” OMG I have to TELL my kids!

We got to the hospital at 7:00 p.m. and I was admitted shortly after at least 20 vials of blood were taken. It was really weird being admitted to the oncology ward. That I had cancer was still NOT computing in my brain. Sandy stayed until I was settled in. There wasn’t much going on. Still all so new! What will tomorrow bring? Could this be a mistake? Please God! Make this a mistake!