Two Weeks at Home, Then Back We Go
The past five or six days at home have been…not great.
Dave began experiencing extreme lightheadedness, dizziness, and weakness. While at one point, he could get up to make a sandwich or gather his medications, now walking even 20 steps became risky, the kind of risky where passing out felt like a real possibility. Everyday tasks took everything he had.
After some back and forth with the surgical team and reviewing bloodwork from January 13th, we, along with his incredible oncology nurse, started to suspect that Dave might need a blood transfusion. On the day before discharge from his surgical hospitalization, his hemoglobin (HgB) was 7.6. Transfusions are typically required once levels drop below 8, and given his worsening weakness, we suspected it had fallen even further. Considering hemoglobin’s main job is carrying oxygenated blood through the body, this felt…relevant.
The team agreed we should bring him back downtown to Northwestern’s Oncology Triage Clinic on Wednesday morning.
When Wednesday arrived, Dave was completely spent after brushing his teeth and getting dressed. Those small, everyday acts required several breaks. There was absolutely no way he could make it from the living room to the front door, down two flights of stairs, up four smaller stairs, and to the car.
Enter: the Skokie Fire Department, who kindly handled that entire journey for us.
Dave spent the day on the 17th floor at the oncology clinic. He received fluids, repeat bloodwork, and then a series of CT scans — brain (jury’s still out - kidding!), chest, abdomen, and pelvis. Once the abdominal CT came back, it showed a pocket of fluid near one of his surgical sites. That earned him an admission and a transfer back up to the 12th floor.
Hey friends. We’re back.
Dave was started on broad-spectrum IV antibiotics to address an elevated white blood cell count, and after a night of aggressive fluids, including three solid hours of trying to find a usable vein, his dizziness and weakness improved significantly.
As it turns out your urine is not supposed to be the color of iced tea. Who knew?!
After some debate about how best to handle the fluid pocket, the team decided against putting Dave back under or placing new drains. Instead, Dr. Meeks would attempt to drain it at the bedside.
Around 2:00 p.m. Thursday, and notably on Erica’s empty stomach (thank God), Dr. Meeks and our favorite nurse practitioner, Alex, came to the room. Following a lidocaine injection to the stomach, Dr. Meeks went digging around Dave’s umbilical incision, as Erica felt the room spin. After some aggressive and bloody rummaging, Dr. Meeks was pleased to report there wasn’t enough fluid to be concerning, especially given how well Dave is responding to antibiotics.
At this point, Dave’s biggest hurdle is hydration. To keep him from falling behind again after discharge, his oncology team has set up an ongoing schedule of clinic visits where he’ll receive regular IV fluids. At midnight tonight, they’ll pause his fluids to see how he does hydrating on his own.
Our hope is that Dave will come home Friday evening and we can all resume our regularly scheduled programming.
We’re hoping for smoother sailing ahead, and time to rest and heal, before our next appointment with Dave’s oncologist on February 19th.
As always, thank you for following along and holding our family close during this stretch.
