Stupid Fever

Today I'm quitting cancer.  I've put up with it long enough and I'm sick of it.  I think it's time we part ways.
I'm writing this from a hospital room at Enloe hospital.  We have been here since Tuesday.  Willie had been feeling pretty good after receiving his last chemo treatments two weeks ago.  So good that he was out and about doing things when he should have been at home.  We went to the infusion center on Monday to get his labs checked.  His red count was 7.7 and platelets were 22.  The parameters for infusion are when reds are below 7 and platelets below 20.  We had the option to get the infusions on Thursday or Wednesday.  We chose Wednesday; the sooner the better, we thought.
It's funny how different it is to receive care as on outpatient.  I would think that we should have gone back the very next day for an infusion since his counts were borderline for infusing, but they didn't seem concerned.  When we were inpatient at Stanford they watched the counts like a hawk.  I remember one day his counts were OK in the morning, but had fallen below the mark by the night draw so they infused immediately.  Knowing this history of quick count drops, I was nervous to take him home and not be able to know for two days if he counts had dropped.
On Monday night he started feeling dizzy.  Red blood cells are responsible for carrying oxygen throughout the body so when they are low one will feel dizzy.  He shrugged it off and said he could make it till Wednesday.  I've never been so worried.  I woke up every hour on Monday night to check if he was breathing.  He was, and he breathed his way all through the night.  When we woke up Tuesday I had a feeling that we would be going back to the hospital that night.  I went to work for a half day then came home to find Willie curled up in bed. 
He had been there for about three hours after he had walked outside in the heat and was overcome with weakness.  He was running a fever so I insisted we go to the hospital. I called the Infusion Center and had them arrange for him to receive the blood they had ordered for him on Wednesday a day earlier.  They said they would work everything out and all we had to do was ask for Dr. Talebi when we got to the ER. 
I have discovered I have no patience for emergency rooms.  Willie was wearing his heavy duty filter mask and was slumped over in his chair when I wheeled him into the ER.  The waiting room was full of onlookers who were all instantly focused on the man in the mask the second we pushed through the sliding doors.  I could feel the weight of 30 sets of eyes scanning us up and down as they tried to assess why we were there and what the mask was all about.  I know they were doing that because I have done it myself in the past.  I am not above staring.  I like to think I do it a bit more tactfully though.  If anything, this journey has taught me just how much I do stare at people in different circumstances than me.  I try not to judge those who stare at us because I realize that I stare out of concern and curiosity.  I know they were doing the same, but I wanted to turn to the room and shout at them to stop staring.
"He's got cancer!" I wanted to yell "That mask is protecting him from you!"
We were instantly met by a woman with a clipboard who checked us in and led us to the front window.  Another woman finished the paperwork and told us to wait with the others.  I objected and told her that he has no immunity and I would prefer he be moved somewhere private if possible.  She allowed us to park in the middle of the 5 foot space that separated her desk from the crowd.  It's silly how cancer turns strangers into germ harboring enemies, everyone is suspect.
We must have looked adequately uncomfortable for them to expedite our case and we were called up next.  A girl hooked willie up to a blood pressure machine and started asking questions rapid fire questions.  The mask muffles everything Willie says so after asking him to repeat himself several times, I took over for him.  She was asking a silly amount of questions and we were both getting antsy.  Suddenly Willie announced he was going to throw up and I no sooner handed him a trash can than he lost his lunch inside.
The intake girl was unfazed and continued on with her exam.  Willie had his head buried in the trash can as she tried to run a rolling thermometer across his head.  It was comical to watch.  I couldn't figure out why she couldn't wait until he was done.  She looked annoyed when she couldn't get the blood pressured cuff to work on his bent arm that was holding tightly to a trash can.  She sighed, then got up and and disappeared though a door.  He finished expelling his stomach contents as she returned and announced that she was just going to move him to a room.
We now know that all we have to do to get priority is thow up in the ER!
We got a private room and the place flew into action.  They ran an EKG, took a chest x ray pulled labs and had doctors in and out in a matter of minutes.  After about 30 minutes a doctor entered the room and introduced himself as the attending physician.
"Congratulations," he said with a smile "you have the lowest blood count I have ever seen!"
We stared back at him, not sure how to react.  I wanted to break into applause and demand a speech from the amazing Willie Beavers who walks around with blood counts so low that ER doctors are impressed.
His red count was 6 and his platelets 7.  The doctor was amazed that he was sitting up and talking.  There goes Willie again, breaking records....!
He said we would get blood ASAP and be admitted upstairs.  This was around 6PM, we didn't see the blood until 9PM.  We have learned that nothing at Enloe hospital happens at the speed of Stanford.  We have been spoiled by Stanford standards.  They started the blood in the ER and we were finally transferred to a room at 11:30, just a short 6 hours after we arrived!
He received two units of blood that night and a unit of platelets.  He spiked a fever on and off all night and the blood he received did little for him.  In the morning his red count was  6.2 and the platelets had made it to 9. 
Wednesday he received two more units of blood and one more unit of platelets.  That night his counts were up to 9.2 for reds and 22 for platelets.  That was great news, but he still had a fever.  They have been giving him every antibiotic on the planet in hopes of targeting the bacteria they know is in his blood.  They were able to tell that much, but they were running more tests to find out exactly what it is. 
Willie was out of it most the day and shifted between fevers and chills all day.  It is the most nerve wracking thing I've ever witnessed.  This is the worst he has been in this whole cancer journey which is kind of incredible since he has already endured the strongest chemo on the planet, twice and had a C-Diff infection.  It's so hard for me to watch him lay there and shiver with a fever of 103.  I want to scream at that fever and tell it how ridiculous it is to mess up our lives like this.  Doesn't that fever know what we've been through already?  How dare it do this to us on top of everything else we've already been through!
I hate that fever.  That stupid, selfish, fever.
This morning he was still running hot so the nurses introduced the water blanket.  It is a thin sheet of plastic attached to a pump that pushes cool water through it.  The first one they brought in was not working right so they called in other nurses to assist.  At one point there were three nurses surrounding the unit while Willie patiently waited to be cooled.
How many nurses does it take to operate a water cooled blanket?
Apparently more than three!
They finally had to bring in a whole new until which worked like a charm and brought his fever down in no time.

Then he started coughing.  It started with one single cough, then in a matter of minutes he was having a hard time breathing and was weezing.The nurse listened to his lungs and got a worried look on her face.  She left to call the doctor and returned with an answer.  His lungs had started filling with water from all the IV fluids he has been receiving.  I couldn't take any more of this rollercoaster of emotions.  He laid there weezing and I could see his heart beating through his chest.  I was sure he was going to fill up with water until he suffocated.  The nurse gave him Lasix which is a diuretic that made him pee off some of that water.  It worked instantly and he was able to breath better after about 20 minutes.  They also stopped the IV fluids so he won't drown!
The doctor came by around 4PM today and announced that they had found the offending bacteria.  That's good news because now they can give antibiotics specific to that bacteria which will be more effective.  The bad news is that since he is still spiking a fever and has been on a slew of antibiotics, they need to find the source of the infection.  She is thinking he has an abscess somewhere in his body that is full of bacteria.  Tonight they will be doing a CT scan of his whole body to find the offender. 
Please join us in praying they find it quickly. 
Until then, we continue to wait and Willie continues to sweat and get blood.
This was only Will's first round of consolidation chemo.  When I think about the three more rounds he has to do it makes me sick.  At least this current experience is teaching us a lot about what NOT to do next time.  Now we know that when they say he has to be in isolation after receiving chemo they mean ISOLATION!
As for now, we wait for the CT scan and hope that this fever will go away. 
A few minutes ago Will decided to lay on the cooling blanket instead of draping it over himself.  I laid the cool sheet down on the bed and he climbed on top and shivered.
"Chili Willy the Penguin!" he said.
I laughed.
It was the first thing he has said in days that isn't related to his current state.
"That's clever!" I praised him, thinking he had made that up himself
"Do you know that cartoon?" he asked, correcting any thoughts I had of his cleverness.
"Nope." I said
"Go look it up on your Google machine!" he said and I laughed again.
He must be feeling better if he can mock my love of Google. 
I looked it up on my Google machine and found the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJ_L1OFujD8
This has become our theme song.

And now I'm off to tend to Chili Willy the Penguin.  I just played that theme song for him and he smiled. 
I love that smile that the fever has taken away for the past few days.
Less fever.  More smiles.