The Die is Cast

Wednesday 28 March

Of course we arrived a half hour late at the hematology ward, but what were they going to do? Tell her she couldn't come in? It always takes longer than you think, extricating yourself from a life, even if temporarily. Nobody seemed to notice, though, let alone mind.

The place looked so familiar to us that it was almost comforting. If you had to take a rigorous treatment, it might as well be here, we thought. Few of the nurses had a familiar face, however. There had been quite a bit of turnover in recent months, we were told. One senior nurse, a Spanish lady of whom Lara had grown particularly fond last time, greeted her with enthusiasm.

The rest of the morning was spent making a grand tour - Lara and I hand in hand - along different services for an X-ray, an echo and an ECG. The blood sample they took came up worse still than the last one. We were slightly disappointed. Lara has felt so energetic over the last few days, that we were hoping for a last minute miracle, allowing her to bow out in the nick of time. No such.

We went down to the hospital restaurant (le Medoc) and ate like grown-ups in a regular setting, one Lara will have to do without for several weeks.

In the afternoon (I had left by then), she was wheeled down to surgery for the implantation of the central line, on the right side of her neck. Previously, the procedure had caused her agony, so she was a tad nervous, dulled by half a Xanax. It went off without a hitch and she sounds chipper over the phone. Try her any time while she is still feeling fine.

Late this afternoon she is expected to be hooked up to the Cytosar, and will remain so for the next five days. The drug is not administered in the form of a constant flow, but rather at certain intervals, bag by bag. In addition she is supposed to get her first shot of Vosaroxin - or a placebo (see yesterday's post on the double blind study she has signed up for). Seven days from now, she will be in total aplasie (no white blood cells or 'WBC'). That is the period in the treatment you have to be wary of, for it entails being super susceptible to pathogens of any kind: viral, bacterial or fungal. Statiscally, the aplasie starts coming to an end 21 days from now and all this time Lara and all staff and vistors have to take extra care to avoid infections. She will stay in her room, except for quick sorties with her physiotherapists.

She is a bit afraid she won't be getting too many visitors, like during the time she was really really sick last year. There has to be an easier way to attract attention, she figures. So don't hold back on any form of contact as you please. Soon she will be getting weaker as the days grind on.