Looking ahead

As Vlad convalesces, we continue to weather more bickerfests over nothing -- I'm convinced it's a symptom of too much pent-up frustration, and the beginning of the release, the big exhale, as it were, after this long, scary journey. We can see the end of the road, but we dare not speak its name or hope too hard.

I deal with fear from a practical "Murphy's Law" point of view, instilled in me as a child. My father was an Eagle Scout. He believed in always being prepared for anything, theorizing that if he were, then nothing bad would happen. Once we were out fishing on his motorboat and he held up his battery cables and said to me, "This is my talisman." So, you know, I never worried about anything as a child.

My talisman for this journey was hope. And prayers.

Vlad's fears are more pronounced than mine, obviously. He also grew up in a different culture and in a family far from my experience, where the parents were the thing, and the children were, though loved, shipped off at most opportunities so the parents could get on with their important lives. They never took vacations together. And yet there was real affection. I just will never understand it.

So his fears manifest in a more organic way: He needs touch, presence and hovering. He'll call out, not out of need, but to make sure you're there. Maybe that's what we all need when we're looking down the mouth of the death beast. Vlad's not afraid to show his fear. It makes him seem stronger to me.

Anyway, I think yesterday he hit his nadir of nadirs. Last night the red spots of crazy-low platelets appeared all over his legs. He had fever all day yesterday. We've learned that the fever at nadir can mean the marrow is working overtime to produce new cells. The red spots are gone today and his fever has subsided slightly. He says he feels slightly better today, so I think he's turning the corner on this last chemo. Hallelujah!

He has an appointment in the morning. If his platelets aren't up significantly I'm sure he'll get a transfusion. Conlon last Thursday gave Vlad a choice of not getting the transfusion. Which of course Vlad didn't get, given that choice. But I know it's made this weekend worse.

Thursday his WBC was .6, his hemoglobin 9.2 (both increases), but platelets were 4.

I spoke to our ailing friends this week. Terry, who has the broken knees, seemed in good spirits. His next milestone is whether he'll need surgery after his bones heal.

And I talked with Peter, who is making great strides after his stroke. He can walk, use the computer and talk a little bit. He's in speech therapy, and it sounds like he'll come through really well.

The road looks bright for all of us.