Friday, October 24

David & AML aka the DDC aka Big Leuk

 Well no news is good news over here. Or at least decent news. David is 3 weeks after his most recent chemo round and it seems like everything is going the way it’s supposed to. Here is what we’ve noticed so far:

Week 1: Chemo week. While there are loads of appointments, David went into the week feeling well (good blood count numbers) and feels well throughout the week. There is some nausea but the medication he gets manages things effectively. The eye drops that keep the chemo from burning his eyes are easy enough. It’s busy but the body is up for it. 

3-4 days after Chemo stops: David feels pretty good during this time too. He’s taking a pharmacy of medications at this stage to keep any infection at bay, but it’s cool. Less appointments is also nice 

4-10 days after chemo stops: the Chemo starts to have an impact. Which means David’s blood is annihilated. That’s good but not fun. He didn’t feel as bad as he did in the hospital but he gets tired super easy. The chemo brain settles in and so it takes more mental work to do some everyday things. Plus getting winded on stairs (he is loving being at home because he has more movement in his day than at the hospital) But he can drive well enough. Which is good because he goes to the hospital 3/4 times for platelet and blood transfusions plus his regular 3x a week blood tests. Transfusions take a looong time - 2 hours a bag, so the day when he needed two bloods and one platelets was a 6 hour hospital hang out. Lots of naps and avoiding crowds because there are no white blood cells to keep him safe. 

Week 3: slowly, very slowly his own blood starts to come on line. This is great because he’s out of the transfusion danger zone and last minute appointments to get juiced up. But he still feels pretty crappy. Especially because at this point he’s been taking so many pills to keep infection away that they kind of just make him feel yucky - bad taste in his mouth, fatigue, etc. But the blood coming back is what want because it shows that the bone marrow can do things right. It also means less appointments at the hospital - two a week instead of 3 times a week. Still avoiding the general public because of germs.

As we go into week 4, we expect that David will continue to feel better and hopefully will have a couple of weeks of feeling like himself before he has to start the next round of chemo (two left). He is actually thinking that he really wants at least two weeks to feel good before starting the chemo again (if he can) so he can just feel good for a bit. The red blood cells are the slowest to ramp up and he really notices their absence. 

It’s not the most exciting time and it sucks to not feel like yourself day in and day out. And when you consider that he’s had leukemia since May 2025, it’s been a long time since he’s felt like himself. But he keeps the steady work up. We heard from his doctor that he will likely wrap up his last chemo in mid January and be off work until April to get his energy and immunity up  So that’s like a full year.

It’s also been a silver lining to have David only feeling medium awful because he can support the kids during this teacher strike. 🫠🫠one more thing 🙃🤪

I’ve set up the kids with workbooks and a schedule so they are mostly self guided, but they are still kids and so having someone to keep them focused-ish or breaking up the day with activities is so valuable. He’s take them to library and got them to go on walks or learn how to clean something. While I don’t think anyone is having the time of their life or jumping ahead on any education milestones, we are keeping things going. 

I am doing my best on my front. And my best is probably pretty mid. Last week I had a perfectly set up plan for when Ellie had to be at an appointment, David had to go in for blood tests and I had a tricky to schedule meeting all at the same time. Which I thought was 10am. It was not. It was 9am. So when my computer dinged that the meeting was starting, I panicked and then booked an uber for Ellie. It’s a $170 fee for Ellie to miss an appointment so she definitely needed to go. She was pretty anxious about taking an uber alone but she got to her appointment on time, my meeting went well enough and David was doing his thing. Chaotic. Cost $12 for the uber. And Ellie would prefer to ride with her family next time. But she also felt brave and there were no casualties. That spinning of too many things and mixing up a detail is exactly what happens to me when I’m at capacity. It also broke my heart a bit when Ellie later told me she feels like she’s doing too much for a kid. And she’s right - having your dad in cancer treatment or being on a teacher strike alone would be hard but doing both at the same time is a lot. 

I did decide to book off the next couple of Monday mornings, book a couple of days in November to take off and get the Christmas holiday days off in order. Just to have a bit more time. And to show Ellie that I do hear her and want to be there for her. It is tough because it is also one of my busiest times at work. And you know, having to do the logistics to schedule time is one more thing to do. 

Which is probably why I am now getting sick. It’s been just under 3 months since David was diagnosed and I think some light food poisoning on Wednesday took the last bit of immunity I had, so I’m staring down the barrel of a cold (I hope only a cold). 

We don’t really need anything other than to get through it all. We’ve got a fridge full of food, help coming from hired folks, and a great community. We’re not panicking anymore about the future because it will get here when it gets here. So if you could keep the prayers going for stamina and mental clarity for us all, that would be rad. 

P.S Sloan is doing better. Not 100% yet but he’s a poo-champion (he does not approve of that title). 

Monday, October 6

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming

 Ok a small hiatus before I give another Dum Dum Cancer update.


On Saturday I was at the hospital, but this time with Sloan! For the past year, Sloan has been complaining of an upset stomach (feeling really nauseous). And it seemed like nothing would ease his discomfort. So we made an appointment with the doctor (it took a couple of appointments) and did a blood and fecal test. Well the poop said that his stomach was super duper inflamed. Like typically the calprotectin is normally <50 units, and Sloan was at 238. So not making it up and not just anxiety. The doctor said this was pretty serious and would refer us to a GI specialist

Over the week the doctor had Sloan on some medication to help with stomach pain and some antibiotics if he had a bug (though a bug for a year seems like a long time), while we waiting for the referral to come through. On Friday, we still hadn't heard from the GI specialist so I called to follow up. They said due to long wait lists, it would be 4 weeks until the referral was processed (😓😓😓). So our family doctor suggested, that he write a note and Sloan just go to the emergency room. I do not love the idea of going to the emergency room, but if Sloan's guts are going to explode and/or his intestinal lining is at risk of degrading and/or the food we are giving him is actually poisoning him...well I was willing to spend some time at the Stollery.

However, when I checked the wait times, it was 2.5 hours average. Not the way I wanted to spend a Friday night. I've also been at the hospital enough times (Sloan still fondly remembers sleeping in the window well of the Grey Nuns hospital while his fever broke, only to get seen after about 8-9 hours of waiting when shift change happened and beds were freed up), to know that shift change is the right time to go...especially early in the morning. So we made a plan to go first thing Saturday morning.

We rolled up at 7:20am (shift change is at 7:00 - of course this was a morning where Sloan was actually sleeping in) and were seen in 5 mins and met with the pediatrician about 10 minutes after we arrived. I brought snacks and games for the waiting room and we did not even get a chance to use them! The pediatrician wanted to get more blood work from Sloan (he's such a champ for needles), maybe a stool sample (pooping on command is hard) and then an X ray of Sloan's stomach. Again so super fast, Sloan is wheeled to get his X ray and blood work is done right away. 

Back at the room we wait for the results and Sloan finally gets his screen time. When the doctor comes back, he tells me Sloan is totally full of poop. He is so incredibly constipated that we need to initiate a clean out - a Poo-nami per the pediatrician. Cue a 3 day laxative treatment plus daily laxatives for 1-2 months while Sloan's bowels shrink back to size and is retrained on flow. I was totally surprised because Sloan poops every day like clockwork...but apparently that is also a sign that he's a holder and that is what can back him up. 

We were out of the hospital by 10:10am. Less than 3 hours start to finish! A miracle.

Sloan seems relieved that comfort will be coming soon. We're relieved that we don't have a chronic condition to manage. Sloan is also glad that he got to miss swimming lesson because pools and laxatives do not mix. And actually the teacher strike came at the perfect time - Sloan has daily access to his home toilet to retrain listening to his body and we can give him his regular "special drink" to keep things flowing. 




On the David front - his blood counts (platelets, hemaglobin, white blood cells, red blood cells) continue to go down. This means the chemo is working and that is good. But it does mean he's super duper tired. Friday he got a platelet infusion and later tonight he's going to get two blood + one platelet transfusions. Saturday he slept an additional 5 hours during the day along with his regular bed time. He is driving himself now (not while sleeping) so that is also making the logistics easier. We're super grateful for the help we had because it really reassured me.

I love having him home because he says doing a few chores (dishes, laundry) is how he makes sure he doesn't rot and keeps his energy up. I did beat crush him in an arm wrestle yesterday so I'm not sure it's helping that much. 



David being home has also made some of the ambiguity about the teacher strike a bit easier, because even if he's tired, he is at least home as a grownup to help the kids do their homework and eat regular meals. We've also hired Hannah for the rest of the month so that David can rest when he needs to.

Overall David is getting worse, but is also completely on track and as expected and so far not as bad (by far) compared to the hospital. He's still mostly himself, most of the time. Hopefully he hits the bottom inflection point soon and his bone marrow starts making his own blood.

We love you! Thanks for checking in with us - it means a lot.


Thursday, September 25

David and the DDC: Re-re-remix

Well this week David started his second round of chemo, which is his first round of consolidation and being an outpatient. He's only 4 days in (started on Monday), and his blood counts lowering (and feeling terrible) likely won't start until the weekend. So we are in the happy early days.

Some pros of being outpatient:

  • Eating food at home
  • Sleeping in your own bed
  • Hugging your family whenever you want
  • Having places to move around/see the sun/fresh air
  • Broader clothing selection
  • Feeling cozy
  • Helping your wife with little chores like laundry, dishes and making lunches
Some cons of being an outpatient:
  • 30+ minute drives to the hospital 2x a day, 3 days a week, 1x a day the other days (so up to 2 hours commuting some days
  • Early morning appointments
  • Having to remember to take your own medication
  • Less data/constant monitoring of blood counts and vitals

Overall, at this point, it's amazing having David around and I really love that he's feeling okay-ish so far. The chemo does give him really bad headaches, but they usually go away but the next day. We know that he'll definitely feel terrible soon, so we take every good day we can get. Every time he's getting his infusions, there is someone there also getting a blood/platelet transfusion so I fully expect that we will have to head up a few extra times next week and the week after to get David transfused, in addition to his every other day bloodwork. 

It was also pretty fun that his roommate, Franklin, was also doing his outpatient chemo at the same time as David last night. While they aren't homies (yet), it's nice to know your roommate is still moving through the process (as opposed to the alternative).

David's Chemo Transport Club is really working very well. It's amazing that by having it all organized beforehand means that we can just live our lives and don't have to worry about it day to day. My work days are quite full so I'm super appreciating that I don't have to move things constantly to drive him. Our people are the best!


Prayers are continually appreciated. When I was in the temple on Friday, I could truly feel the support of them for David and us. So thank you!!

And if you're curious about the chemo club (or want to bookmark the page for when he starts his next round next month sometime, we don't know when): David's Chemo Transport Club


Wednesday, September 17

David & the DDC: Take that! And that!!

 GUESS WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?


David is in remission!!!! 

(technically)


This is very joyous news and while not entirely a surprise (we peeped it in his my Alberta Health, but it was couched in so many terms that it did not feel definitive), today it was official. In fact Dr. Brandwein said, "You're in remission. Now we cure you". I wanted to be really jubilant in the office with him, but Dr. Brandwein is pretty chill/reserved, I didn't want to overwhelm him with my joy.

All afternoon I've felt like I have a choir singing the word remission all around me:


So why only technically? Well right now, per the bone marrow biopsy, there is no evidence of the disease. When he got his blood work back from Monday there was also no blasts! This means his body does know how to make good blood and is currently doing just that. But, they want to make sure that he doesn't relapse and make sure that even though it didn't show up in their tests, that there aren't some blasts hiding somewhere in the marrow, or that the bone marrow doesn't go rouge again. So he has to do three rounds of chemotherapy to make sure his bone marrow stays the course. This is the consolidation. 

Consolidation means 2 times a day, 3 times a week, he will get a high does of a chemo drug called cytarabine. This will be a higher dose than he got in the hospital of this drug (15 times higher actually...yikes), but only for 3 hours at a time. And he won't have the second drug, idarubicin, this time as well. The idarubicin was likely responsible for a lot of his stomach pain, so it's a relief to learn that it was the culprit and the stomach pain shouldn't happen as badly in these rounds. The cytarabine is no joke and so David will have anti-nausea medication again. He'll also have eyedrops that he has to put in his eyes because the toxicity can give him conjunctivitis. After a week of treatment, David will get some rest, while his white blood cells, platelets, neutrophils and a bunch of other blood bits are wiped out again. Basically the same as he was last time - very vulnerable to bad stuff. So he will be on anti-fungals, antibiotics, antivirals and one other thing to keep him from getting sick. When I asked the doctor if I should do anything special to keep the house clean, he said everything that would likely make him sick is already in his body - it's kind of wild that our bodies both protect and harm us so much. Like aren't we supposed to be on the same team?

In between routine poisoning, David will go to the hospital for hydration and blood tests. After the week of poison, he will keep having blood tests every other day to make sure what's supposed to be happening is happening. They gave us a little card that said if his red blood cells or platelets are below certain levels, he has to get a transfusion. It's kind of wild because David (or I) just check his results in the app and then call in as soon as we notice. That feels like a lot of responsibility. So right now we are planning for 12 visits to the hospital in 14 days but it could be more if we have to go in for transfusions. David is excited to do this part at home, where he sleeps better, gets to hug kiddos lots and moves around a bit more. I love having him at home but reserve the right to be scared about being a responsible adult.

After chemo David's blood counts will go very low and then slowly work their way back. They figure he'll be about 5 weeks to get fully back to "not dying" and that's when they'll schedule the next round of chemo to start this all again. In theory, if things go accordingly to plan, he'll be doing his last round of chemo in the last week of November/first week of December and might be a reasonable version of himself by his birthday (and also Christmas). But also just taking one day at a time....poorly.

And then he's cured. So crazy.


I am incredibly grateful to the many friends and church members who signed up to take David to his appointments (thankfully the nurse told him that he definitely should not drive himself, so it's nice to have healthcare on my side). All of his appointments have been handled!

We also have Hannah over here each evening for the rest of the month helping with the kids/making our lives magical.

David will likely feel fairly normal during the week that chemo is being administered and then like a zombie the weeks after. So I'll be working from home as needed, especially in the event that he needs a ride to the hospital for a transfusion. I don't want to have to be coordinating rides from the office for that business. Work is amazing and is happy to let me balance as I need to (I actually felt caught up on Monday) so I just keep managing that workload one day at a time.

Honestly, I know that God answers prayers. In some ways I feel undeserving of the news we got today because I know there are so many who are less fortunate and do not get the good news we did. We're not more deserving than they are. But I know that God has a plan for David and for our family and I am doing my best to surrender to that and have faith that this will be for our good. Just like David's bone marrow is getting hammered down over and over in order to build back stronger and better, we might be going through a similar process ourselves.

Throughout this journey, David and I have had some really thoughtful conversations about the intentional things that we want to do with our family - what does work and play look like for each of us, and as a unit, when we know that our lives are precious, valuable, and shorter than we want. I hope it doesn't take life altering health diagnoses to get us to see our lives this clearly. 

....and I know that we're not out of the woods. So keep praying that David keeps making good blood, doesn't get pneumonia, and that our mental health holds for another 10-15 weeks. Also so much gratitude that we can cure cancer. It feels surreal just saying it.

We love you. You're the best. We are so fortunate for the community cheering us on in our journey. Hug your loved ones because they really are your most precious.


Friday, September 12

David & the DDC: wanna join our club?

David has been home for 1 week, well not even. 4 days and it feels like a lifetime (in a good way). Yesterday he went for his first bloodwork and the numbers are trending in the right direction (yay!). And they also let him know that they'd like him to start his next round of chemotherapy on September 22. Like in 10 days 😬😬

They are assuming that he is in remission and so have started booking all of his appointments. And there are many. 12 over 2 weeks. Of course, if they find that he is not in remission, then they will cancel all of them and we'll start over or do something else. 

So we are asking if you'd like to join our *club* and help drive David to his appointments (which could totally change and so club members should be a bit flexy). He does think he can do them all himself, but I feel like chemo is really not fun and he didn't have a good time the first time, so in an abundance of caution, I am coordinating rides for him. This way I can drive the kids to what they need and know David is supported.

If you're interested/available, here is where you can sign up: David's Consolidation Chemo Transport Club (don't feel the need to overextend yourself but any trip helps). 


Other updates - David has really enjoyed being at home. He has started to get his tastebuds back so food is a lot more enjoyable. He also had enough energy yesterday to to play "throw squishmallows at the kids" which elicited many giggles from the kids. They love goofing with their daddy.

I love having David home too. It's nice to have someone who can also fold laundry and take a kid to a class. I'm definitely hovering and being overprotective but I know overexerting yourself can really make healing harder. Plus I get lots of hugs again, which is very nice.

I love that I still stuck with the service appointments, it makes me feel like I'm handling things and also not burning out. This next phase with all the appointments and David being in and out everyday + feeling terrible and such will be a real test of my skills. But we do get to do it 3 times, so maybe by the end I'll feel like a pro.

The usual helps are also appreciated:
- Prayers
- Signing up to be a donor or donating blood
- Contributing to Blood Cancer United
- Hugging your loved ones and reminding them to get blood tests


P.S. Writing on my laptop vs. my phone means much more fun images!




Monday, September 8

David and the DDC: peace out (for now)


 David got discharged from the hospital today!! We found out on Saturday afternoon that this was a possibility since he was making his own blood and his platelets and white blood cells were in a healthy range. I, of course, panic-cried because I was planning for him to come home next week, so had booked the furnace and house cleaning for Thursday and Friday this week. The idea of David coming home, catching a bug and dying felt both ironic and too real. So probably not the response David was hoping for since he was DONE with being at the hospital. 


On Sunday he chatted with staff hematologist and they let him know that he actually has all the blood things he needs to fight disease and infection (in fact his bone marrow slightly overshot the mark and so he has lots of white blood cells) so he’s not immunocompromised. Obviously he’s still weak and tired from the fight but he can have plants and fruits and friends over. That was a huge relief for me - he would not die on my watch, this time. 


So I took today off work and David was told Monday will be the magic day. To start the day he needed a bone marrow biopsy. It’s a pretty hardcore procedure where they numb you to your pelvic bone and then dig out a core sample and some marrow sauce. You may recall that David has super super strong/dense bones. I came in (of course I was late to meet) and the resident was doing the procedure alone and trying his very best. Unfortunately his very best was quite painful for David and he had trouble getting the right angle. After about an hour of numbing and trying to get into the bone the assistant just went and found the staff hematologist. She got in there, aspirated the marrow super fast (that part super stings) and got the marrow core. The resident watched closely but she got the job done in like 20 mins. She was obviously a boss at it. I also watched but watching David be in so much pain for so long and watching them reef on David’s back to get in was a bit much for me. It’s one thing to enjoy an anonymous dr pimple popper patient and an entirely other to watch someone you love just gritting through bone pain. Suffice to say I felt my breakfast in my throat and was sweating a looott. Once they had the goods, I excused myself because they didn’t need two patients. While I stepped out, the bandaged David and got him to rest. 

While we waited for the discharge, we finished our Lego and hung out. The team of residents (different from the biopsy) and staff hematologist (same as biopsy) came back to discuss and discharge David. I got to ask all my questions (chatGPT helped me populate many questions so I would feel all my bases were covered). We were very thorough and they were very patient. David will be going back twice a week for blood tests and to have his main line checked/flushed/serviced (fun fact: his main line came with a manual that he brought home - like you would get with your microwave). We might need some friends to help with driving David to the tests depending on how alert he is feeling. 


David now has 3 weeks for sure until he does the next step. What the next step is will be dependent on his biopsy results, which he should get in 2 weeks. If he is in remission he will do more chemotherapy next. If he’s not in remission, he will do more chemotherapy next. lol. The remission chemo is less intense and can be done as an outpatient. The no-remission chemo is a mystery box and will undoubtedly suck more. 


The kids are really happy to have David home. Especially Sloan feels more settled. We still have help from Hannah the babysitter for the rest of the month so that will ensure David doesn’t overdo things. I am also (now that I’m not panicking) happy to have David back in our bed and now I can kiss him on the mouth!


The ward did a fast for David and our family yesterday which was really touching. Of course this situation has been really hard - I cry 6/7 days a week and David is less of a crier but no less distressed about this turn of events, and yet we are now recipients of so much love from our friends, family and church. If you have to do a really hard thing, it’s amazing to have so many good people in your corner. I’m not sure how we lucked out so well.


We are onto our new normal (again) and hopefully it lasts for a couple of days before we have to pivot again. 

Love you all. Mean it so much. 


No asks tonight. Just gratitude. 

P.s. I am definitely still keeping the cleaning appointments even though they are not required  


Friday, September 5

David and the DDC: the plot thickens

David has been in the hospital for over 3 weeks now. It's gone by fast but also every day is a new surprise. Last week felt like a slog but this week things are moving really quickly.

Earlier week David's belly hurt so much and he was getting an injection of pain medication to help with the pain. He had CT scans and XRays of his chest to try and figure out what was going on. On Monday, when I visited he was so so out of it. I ended up being at the hospital at the same time as the Resident and the Attending were chatting with David (usually I go in the evening but because it was a stat I was there before lunch), and thanks to my sister, I had some questions to ask. Together with the attending we decided to put David on digestive rest - basically clear liquids for 24 hours. They wanted David to consent to it, but he was so confused he just kept saying "I don't know". But I said we should go for it, just to give his belly some rest. Especially because he hasn't enjoyed eating anyway.

By Tuesday's visit he was a lot more like himself. We visited with the kids and he was back to normal. Which was good, because David out of it was so unnerving. He's not usually a guy who struggles to string a sentence together. Tuesday was the kid's first day of school so they had lots to share with him so it was nice to have Daddy being Daddy (if a bit more tired).

Wednesday had some unnerving results, as blasts showed up in David's blood test for the first time after chemotherapy. As you may recall: Blasts (specifically myeloblast) are immature blood cells, and in a healthy individual, these cells develop and mature into normal blood cells in the bone marrow before entering the bloodstream. They are typically not found in the blood stream, just in the bone marrow. And in a healthy adult, would be less than 5% of cells. However, we were told to not panic *because* blast cells are baby blood cells, and your bone marrow makes a lot of babies to remake all your blood products that are destroyed by chemotherapy. So you need to have blasts in order to get the rest of the blood cells. And so this is normal, expected and probably even good. (In the picture below, the blasts are the first cells in the yellowy section)



So we are currently *not* panicking and hoping that everything will shake out. As David does start to make his own blood (we are seeing upticks in White Blood Cells, Platelets and other blood markers - Red Blood Cells are pretty low), he starts to feel better, and he's less likely to need more blood products. Blood products are amazing (have you donated lately?!), but they often make him more tired and there is some risk in using someone else's blood rather than your own.

Wednesday & Thursday David also started to eat a little more solidish food - like pudding, and it doesn't seem like his belly is going to get worse again. The infectious disease experts thought they could try taking David off all the antibiotics to see if that was making him hurt, but the hematologists did not love the idea of no antibiotics when he's so immunocompromised. David said he left it to them to decide. To be continued there.

David's roommate also got released. Since they have the same kind of cancer, it's nice to see someone get to the other side. Especially because Frank had some really rough days in there too. His new roommate is a lady named Barb, who is there for consolidation chemo (which would be David's next step after he finishes induction) so he's kind of excited to see what toll that takes on the body. Though she has a lot of other stuff going on, so a few confounding variables. It's weird that David spent 20 days across a curtain from a guy, did some of the hardest stuff they will ever do, even eventually chatted with each other, and they will likely never see each other again. I would have got his Instagram (?) if I knew it was going to be his last day.

Thursday was David and my 16 year anniversary. One of us has been in the hospital for our anniversary on 2 separate anniversaries (2/16 being in the hospital on Sept 4 is not great stats). My parents sent us some Lego to build and we got to cuddle, chat and take it slow. Dinner was in the cafeteria. So not the best food in the world, but the first time we've eaten there in 23 days! Well I ate, David did not since it all tastes like dust anyway. It was a nice quiet night while my brother took the kids to play with their cousins.



One other thing David has noticed is that the variety of drugs and the extended resting periods means that his waking life has a lot more daydreams - and they're super wacky/don't make any sense. It's a bit unsettling but when he has something to focus on (visitors, audiobooks, etc), it does make it quiet down a bit.

Having our caregiver for the kids from 4-7pm is amazing!! She really connected with the kids and having her make their lunches, practice piano with Ellie, make dinner and just check in with them is making my stress load so much lighter. It means I can visit David after work without the guilt of the kids being left alone - in fact they probably have more fun with her. On days when I'll work from home, I can catch up from the days I leave early from work, because she's there helping and supporting. It's such a privilege to have this kind of help!

The kids seem pretty happy with back to school (though getting ready quickly in the morning is rocking Sloan's world). And I'm happy to have a bit more predictability in the schedule (teacher strike notwithstanding). I am also getting ready for David's eventual release from the hospital. Because he'll be so immunocompromised, I'm getting the house deep-cleaned and the furnace cleaned (we've never had it cleaned before, so there is probably a lot of cat fluff in there). We'll also be setting aside a bed and bathroom/sink that is just for him so we can minimize contagion. I'm a bit nervous of that stage because we won't have nursing care + daily blood tests to make sure things are on track....but I'm also taking one day at a time...just..one...day. I'm trying...kind of. I just like to have some sense of order where I can get it, so there are less surprises like "oh I should have been doing that?" Maybe a cancer doula is something that should exist.

I'm doing okay with my amazing support network. No act of service is unappreciated from lawn mowing, to fridge organizing, to delicious foods!

If you want to be a part of our efforts:
1) Sign up to donate blood - September is blood cancer awareness month! so a great time to donate (David used probably about 5-6 "servings" of blood and I think about 8 of platelets)
2) Pop over to visit David - your chances may be dwindling
3) Pray for good bloodwork that has blasts doing their job appropriately and not running amok
4) Remind your loved ones to get regular bloodwork to ensure they're proactive in disease management (ignorance is not bliss here)


xoxox

Just. One. Day. At. A. Time


P.S. David's hair loss has been epic: