Big news: Dad got his last dose of chemotherapy today. And Jessica, today’s nurse, declared it to be his last dose ever. I love the optimism. There’s just so much damn hope in that place. It’s contagious, and I adore them all so much.
So, yeah: Today’s dose of methotrexate marks the last of the immunosuppressant therapy that will allow Dad’s new stem cells to do their good work. His WBC and ANC counts are right where they should be, and I expect they’ll tank by the end of the week–at which point they’ll start their slow climb northward. So, basically, it’s wait-and-see mode for a couple of weeks. I just love waiting.*
*I do not love waiting.
Anyway, two weeks into this process (already!), Dad is still feeling just terrific. He’s no longer tethered to Hazel (the IV pole, for those of you just joining us). He did 16 laps around the floor this morning and another 16 laps this afternoon. He’s doing all the things to stay healthy. I’m so proud of him.
That’s about it, you guys. And I’m crossing my fingers that my updates stay exactly this boring.