Steve is still in his hospital room. We're waiting to learn what time his procedure will be. He's starting to get hungry -- he's not allowed to eat or drink anything until after the filter is placed.
*****
Yesterday I reported that the clot is in his left leg. We all thought it was, based on Steve's swollen left leg. But the resident, Dr. C, triple-checked the radiology report that identifies the clot in the right leg.
We're shocked. There are no visible symptoms on his right side.
We are especially thankful that Dr. N ordered a scan on both legs.
*****
UPDATE: Dr. G, the doctor who will place the filter, just visited with us. The procedure will begin around 11:30 a.m. and will last about an hour.
He will be under moderate sedation; the incision will be in his neck. A catheter will be used to move the device to the correct place in his groin.
Showing posts with label Zale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zale. Show all posts
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
IVC filter for DVT
Sometime tomorrow Steve will undergo a procedure to have an inferior vena cava filter (IVC filter) placed in a vein in his groin area.
The IVC filter will serve as a sieve to stop a blood clot from reaching his lungs. (That would be a pulmonary embolism, and that could be deadly.)
In most cases, a blood clot like Steve's is treated with blood thinners. Blood thinners aren't an option with Steve, though, because of his need for Avastin.
Avastin is the bio-agent that has been used in conjunction with chemotherapy to stop the Damm Spot from growing. We need it to continue to extend Steve's life.
Avastin and blood thinners don't mix. The combination could cause the tumor to bleed, and that would be devastating.
So, the next logical option is the IVC filter. Its placement is not without risks, but we have to take the risks to keep the DVT away from Steve's upper body.
The procedure itself, which will be performed at Zale Lipshy, is fairly simple. It won't require general anesthesia. But there will be an incision and therefore a wound that needs to heal. Avastin slows the healing process.
The timing of this is actually as good as we could get. Steve's last Avastin treatment was two weeks ago. If he hadn't been admitted to rehab yesterday, he would have had an Avastin treatment today, making a surgical procedure much more difficult.
One of the big questions after the procedure tomorrow: How long will he need to wait until the next Avastin treatment?
The balance will be taking care of the clot and healing while also treating the tumor as aggressively as possible. Both needs are urgent.
Dr. M is in the loop with the physical rehab team and the interventional radiology team. We've defined the main goals:
1. Take care of the DVT.
2. Continue whatever physical rehab (most likely OT and upper body PT) is possible while healing from the procedure.
3. Secure another seven days of rehab at the end of this seven-day allowance.
*****
Steve is tired but in good spirits. He's on complete bed rest at least until the procedure tomorrow. (We don't yet know what time he'll be taken to radiology.)
Almost every time a new caregiver comes in to meet Steve, they ask a series of questions including, "What kind of work did you do?" They're always impressed when Steve answers in the present tense -- he tells them what work he's doing today.
Every morning when he wakes up, he thanks God for another day. I know that he'll do so again Thursday morning, thankful the gift of another day, thankful for intervention, thankful for skilled and caring hands, thankful for you all.
The IVC filter will serve as a sieve to stop a blood clot from reaching his lungs. (That would be a pulmonary embolism, and that could be deadly.)
In most cases, a blood clot like Steve's is treated with blood thinners. Blood thinners aren't an option with Steve, though, because of his need for Avastin.
Avastin is the bio-agent that has been used in conjunction with chemotherapy to stop the Damm Spot from growing. We need it to continue to extend Steve's life.
Avastin and blood thinners don't mix. The combination could cause the tumor to bleed, and that would be devastating.
So, the next logical option is the IVC filter. Its placement is not without risks, but we have to take the risks to keep the DVT away from Steve's upper body.
The procedure itself, which will be performed at Zale Lipshy, is fairly simple. It won't require general anesthesia. But there will be an incision and therefore a wound that needs to heal. Avastin slows the healing process.
The timing of this is actually as good as we could get. Steve's last Avastin treatment was two weeks ago. If he hadn't been admitted to rehab yesterday, he would have had an Avastin treatment today, making a surgical procedure much more difficult.
One of the big questions after the procedure tomorrow: How long will he need to wait until the next Avastin treatment?
The balance will be taking care of the clot and healing while also treating the tumor as aggressively as possible. Both needs are urgent.
Dr. M is in the loop with the physical rehab team and the interventional radiology team. We've defined the main goals:
1. Take care of the DVT.
2. Continue whatever physical rehab (most likely OT and upper body PT) is possible while healing from the procedure.
3. Secure another seven days of rehab at the end of this seven-day allowance.
*****
Steve is tired but in good spirits. He's on complete bed rest at least until the procedure tomorrow. (We don't yet know what time he'll be taken to radiology.)
Almost every time a new caregiver comes in to meet Steve, they ask a series of questions including, "What kind of work did you do?" They're always impressed when Steve answers in the present tense -- he tells them what work he's doing today.
Every morning when he wakes up, he thanks God for another day. I know that he'll do so again Thursday morning, thankful the gift of another day, thankful for intervention, thankful for skilled and caring hands, thankful for you all.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Steve at Zale
After we got the call this afternoon, we sprang into action. Steve called his mom, who drove up right away to take care of napping Katie and Cooper, who would be coming home from school soon. I gathered Steve's belongings and called the Bassens for help getting Steve into the car.
We pulled into the Zale Lipshy valet area, and the intake nurse arrived to help Steve out of the car, into a wheelchair and onto the rehab floor.
We spent the next couple of hours going over medications, schedules, expectations and other introductory details. We met Dr. N, the physician who will oversee Steve's treatment, and his resident, Dr. C.
We learned that because of swine flu fears, children younger than 12 aren't allowed on patient floors. I had had big hopes of the four of us eating dinner together and reading bedtime stories in Steve's room. We'll just have to move the visits downstairs to the lobby.
A respiratory therapist stopped by to check Steve's pulse-oxygen levels and start his breathing exercises. She is the same RT who helped Steve at St. Paul a month ago. She chatted with us for a while, describing her husband's recovery from cancer 13 years ago. And she shared her belief that a good attitude is essential to healing.
We, of course, agree.
I left after Steve finished dinner. We've decided that during this stay I will spend nights at home so that we can both rest well.
I'll return early Wednesday morning to meet the physical and occupational therapists as well as the social worker, who will help with arrangements for home accommodations.
*****
One of my high school friends, Angela, delivered dinner to the house tonight. She made Steve's favorite dessert, pecan pie.
When I told Steve about the dessert, he reminded me of one of our favorite grocery store stories.
The week of our first Thanksgiving together, I wanted to make chocolate pecan pie to take to a dinner. I'd never made any kind of pecan pie before, so the ingredients -- as simple as they are -- were new to me.
Steve and I shopped together, and we couldn't find the Karo Syrup. We couldn't even pronounce Karo. A fellow shopper took pity on us and led us up and down aisles, saying loudly, "Where's the Kay-ro? Where's the Kay-ro?"
We laugh about that moment every time we see a bottle of corn syrup or talk about pecan pie. (And sometimes we recall that I burned the pie. There were a few baking disasters that first year.)
We pulled into the Zale Lipshy valet area, and the intake nurse arrived to help Steve out of the car, into a wheelchair and onto the rehab floor.
We spent the next couple of hours going over medications, schedules, expectations and other introductory details. We met Dr. N, the physician who will oversee Steve's treatment, and his resident, Dr. C.
We learned that because of swine flu fears, children younger than 12 aren't allowed on patient floors. I had had big hopes of the four of us eating dinner together and reading bedtime stories in Steve's room. We'll just have to move the visits downstairs to the lobby.
A respiratory therapist stopped by to check Steve's pulse-oxygen levels and start his breathing exercises. She is the same RT who helped Steve at St. Paul a month ago. She chatted with us for a while, describing her husband's recovery from cancer 13 years ago. And she shared her belief that a good attitude is essential to healing.
We, of course, agree.
I left after Steve finished dinner. We've decided that during this stay I will spend nights at home so that we can both rest well.
I'll return early Wednesday morning to meet the physical and occupational therapists as well as the social worker, who will help with arrangements for home accommodations.
*****
One of my high school friends, Angela, delivered dinner to the house tonight. She made Steve's favorite dessert, pecan pie.
When I told Steve about the dessert, he reminded me of one of our favorite grocery store stories.
The week of our first Thanksgiving together, I wanted to make chocolate pecan pie to take to a dinner. I'd never made any kind of pecan pie before, so the ingredients -- as simple as they are -- were new to me.
Steve and I shopped together, and we couldn't find the Karo Syrup. We couldn't even pronounce Karo. A fellow shopper took pity on us and led us up and down aisles, saying loudly, "Where's the Kay-ro? Where's the Kay-ro?"
We laugh about that moment every time we see a bottle of corn syrup or talk about pecan pie. (And sometimes we recall that I burned the pie. There were a few baking disasters that first year.)
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