Dude, Cancer sucks. I will prove it to you.

Thursday, August 11, 2011


When last we spoke, Cole had a busted broviac line, and the only thing keeping him from bleeding out was a strategically placed paper clip.  Well on Monday Elisa and Logan took Cole down to Kaiser for a little splice job to repair the hole.  All was good on Monday and Tuesday.  On Wednesday night, Elisa went to the Giants game and left us boys to fend for ourselves. 

After scraping together a dinner of steak and calamari, Cole and I put Logan down for the night.  I then began to do medical stuff (yes that is the proper terminology) to Cole.  The easiest stuff to do is to flush his lines.  Naturally while flushing the lines, blood began spewing (or dripping very slowly, depending on who is telling the story) from the repair site.  Fortunately I had been well trained by the RN in the springy clogs.  I immediately found a paper clip and secured the situation.  God, I’m good (and very pretty as well.  The answer to your question is yes, I am the total package).

Since Elisa had a doctor’s appointment and potentially had to spend some time down at the County Courthouse, I had to take the day off to get another repair done.  So Cole and I made the long and harrowing journey to a land known by the locals as Santa Clara.  The journey was fraught with many dangers and obstacles, but our two tepid adventurers managed to survive.  After receiving a hero’s welcome (at which point the mayor gave us the key to the city, again), we proceeded to the clinic to finished what we had started. 

I was praised outrageously (although not without cause) for my sublime paper clip repair by all in attendance.  The medical staff was perplexed as to why the line failed again, but decided to try the repair one more time.  They prepped the site, got all of their tools ready, and were all set to cut the line off above the failed portion when Cole (who is about to start Medical School, see Doogie Howser M.D.) lifted his head and asked the doctor, “Shouldn’t you clamp the line first.”  You see the broviac line goes directly into his blood stream, and if they had not clamped the line prior to cutting it off, there would have been a huge blood stream in that room.  Gotta love it when the 6 year old knows more than the two doctors and one nurse in the room.

We went back home whereupon Elisa left us boys, again, for the evening.  This time, I did not do any medical stuff, and instead just hung Cole from the rafters by his ankles (no real reason, just seemed like fun) until Elisa returned home.

Today Elisa and Cole are going to head back down to the clinic (for those of you keeping score this is the 4th straight day of going to the clinic) to check the line, and get labs drawn in advance of the radiation treatment that starts on Monday.  He might need a transfusion tomorrow, but otherwise should be ready to start on Monday. 

My anxiety is starting to whip itself up into a frothy frenzy for radiation.  My thinker can rationalize that this procedure will be less destructive and painful for Cole than the last two (Chemo and Stem Cell); however, I still get all worked up with images of a glowing child (not glowing in happiness, actually glowing from all the radiation) in my mind.  I am sure that it will be very anti-climactic, but for now I am going to be a wreck for a while.  You should watch; it will be fun.  For now; however, please raise your glasses and toast Cole, City Planner.

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