Skip to main content

What I Learned That First Week


Review of caregiver tips for that first week.

In addition to being there for and with Mathew and keeping up with the tests and parade of doctors I accomplished much by having nurses check for new orders, keeping in contact with the case manager and floor nurse, and pushing, making sure nothing stalled in the process, or was put on the back burner. As a result, I feel that the medical personnel involved also felt my urgency, responded to it and were actively involved at all times to get Mathew to Moffitt. In retrospect looking at all of the lab work that was done in that short week, they covered a lot of ground in eliminating possible cancers.


Thankfully our primary doctor realized Mathew could not be treated locally. In just a few days Dr. S said, “He has deteriorated too much.”
For example, his bilirubin went from 5.0 on the 22nd (normal is from below 1 to 2) to 7.5 on the 28th.

At one point the doctor talked about sending Mathew home until Moffitt contacted us. I was terrified of trying to manage his pain and care at home. My niece told me I didn’t have to accept his discharge.
 “Don’t let them send him home, Tia.” she texted me.

Another thing my niece told me is this (and remember she is an oncologist.) My Mom is a 12-year breast cancer survivor and she came in and with all her heart told my son to look at her and that she was a survivor. My niece simply said, "Not the same." This is something we would find out.


Mathew’s room was usually kept in low light and he slept whenever possible. His hospital bed was extra wide and Mathew liked it when I sat on the bed with him. He was always reclined because he couldn’t stand to lie flat, so we sat side by side, he listened to his music and when it was quiet and he was asleep I would listen to the sound of the IV  as it ran up and down a clickity scale. I imagined a little man running up, and then running down. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Hair Loss After Chemo for Sarcoma, My Son's Point of View

I can't imagine or pretend to know how it feels to lose your hair because you have cancer and the chemo causes your hair to fall out.  I only know what I saw with Mathew and years ago, my sister Elizabeth's experience as they lost their hair to chemotherapy. But it was something that affected Mathew more than just the initial hair loss, it had nuances. Here is a journal entry. It's short but I think it speaks volumes. MATHEW’S JOURNAL     5-23-14 Lately, I’ve been envious of people’s hair. Well, I guess not envious of other people’s hair but missing mine. I told my Mom about it and expressed to her that I was afraid I was falling prey to vanity. She expressed the idea that I may be missing having hair because it’s part of being healthy. I do miss having a life and at the same time, I’m afraid that I may never have a full life again or that I may lose what’s left of the one I have. -  I’ve been thinking about dying a lot lately. I don’t know why it has hit

The Chemo Bell at Moffitt Cancer Center

Bells ring.  Bells, chime, toll, peal, resonate and resound. Bells foretell, warn and celebrate. The Chemo Bell The Survivor Bell Cancer Centers have one or several large bells, each with a large clapper. They are mounted on the wall and when a patient receives their last chemotherapy or radiation treatment for cancer they ring that bell. Mathew and I heard the Chemo Bell in the Infusion Center at Moffitt ring one time. Early on our journey. Everyone clapped and cheered. Mat and I stopped and looked at the bell that day and I thought at that time, it was a possibility for Mathew. Bells have a vibration. When a chemo bell rings, when a person survives cancer (even if it’s for a short time) they resound for the rest of us. Their survival reverberates and gives the rest of us hope.  I found another chemo bell on the 5th floor at Moffitt, in the hallway, past the patient rooms.  Next to the chemo bell was a copy of a photo of a patient surrounded by loved ones

Replace the 3 Lumen Pic Line with a Port

Mathew's 3 Lumen Pic Line was replaced with a Power P.A.C. Both Mathew and I were given Medical I.D. cards to carry at all times. I have mentioned before that texting from the DRC is almost impossible. The staff told me it used to be the X-ray department so the walls are leaded. Again, the phone tree would have helped so much. I texted the following information to my niece, my sister and Mathew’s Dad and Stepmom. And probably Joseph and Carlos. I know that could have been reduced to two texts, three at the most. At the time  I didn’t know about group messaging as my phone was an old Android. Texts Between me and Diane Hi. We are at the hospital early because Mat is in a lot of pain.  We think the bill stent may have moved. Sent 3-31-14 Because he was NPO for other  procedure they should be able to fix today. Sent 3-31-14 In the DRC sending texts is almost impossible so if you don’t hear from me for a while don’t worry. If any big pr