Thank goodness for the Masters.

Never thought I’d write that!

But really, if he needs to be holed up in a hospital room, having nothing to do but watch golf could be considered a silver lining. And I’m glad he has the distraction.

Scott’s Hickman was inserted yesterday morning, and his PICC was removed. The procedure was actually fairly quick, lasting just under an hour and he handled it fine. No joke, his comment afterwards was “I’m worried about how this thing is going to affect my swing”. 

He was checked into his room (the same one he was in during his last stay), and advised that for the duration of his treatment and for the next 100 days he will hold onto his private room as he needs to be isolated from other people. This comforted Scott, as his privacy and freedom to make noise and have visitors while he’s able is really important to him. 

Famished from fasting for the previous 16 hours, we escaped to Pita Pit down the street for Scott’s last meal outside the hospital before that luxury is no longer available. The freezing and sedation wearing off, Scott started to feel quite a bit of discomfort and pain at the site of the Hickman, and the area where it was inserted (though he’s feeling better today). An uneventful night followed, and he was reminded that the hospital schedules really don’t change and easily fell back into routine.

Today he started his chemo, with his first dose beginning at noon. This chemotherapy is very strong (much more so than previous rounds), and the side effects are likely to be intense. Of particular concern is how his mouth and throat will react to the drugs, and so preventative measures are being taken to reduce those ailments as much as possible. Where previous chemo was given to kill the leukaemia cells, this (in conjunction with irradiation) is intended to empty him of all bone marrow. Jeffs cells will literally rescue his body, and start the production of new marrow.

We met with the dietician again, and she gave us a very comprehensive list of foods Scott should avoid and stressed the importance of food stafety and having everything free of potential bacteria. As his caregiver, germs and bacteria and the risk of transferring anything to Scott when he is so vulnerable really scares me.    I’m even more paranoid after this conversation! Yes I will wash and sanitize my hands at every opportunity, and avoid being near him if I suspect I am carrying any germs… But how do I ensure that the blender I use to make his PB doesn’t have hidden bacteria? Or the knife that cuts his kiwi didn’t touch the kiwi skin first? Did I use enough soap? Was the water hot enough when I washed his blender cup? Obviously the answer is just to be especially diligent and aware of everything I am doing, but it’s intimidating.

There is much more going on now, with so much information coming at us all the time. Halfway through Kristine listing off the daily drug cocktail he will be taking from now on, I tuned out. Details like this I know the nurses handle – I’m not the one to administer any drugs (for now anyways) and sometimes it’s information overload. I can only imagine how Scott feels as its all happening to his body.

We are oddly happy to get things going, and with all the fears and anxiety that transplant brings, it also provides hope for a cure which is the feeling were focused on.

Well that, and the Jays home opener.