LIFE-SAVING CHEMO, LIFE-THREATENING SIDE EFFECTS

The past 10 days have been a nightmare and never before have we faced chemotherapy side effects of such proportions. My son had to be confined for platelet transfusion and just in the nick of time as we found out that his platelet count had plunged to 17 (thousand) and even dipped to a low of 6 (thousand) putting him in grave danger of spontaneous bleeding. The days became a frantic, desperate race against time to transfuse the platelets and also to find the needed amount of the right blood type (A+) as the hospitals blood bank had run dry. If there is one thing I have learned since my son was diagnosed with cancer, it is that people care and are willing to help when given the opportunity. We sent out anxious pleas for blood donors through messages reaching thousands in real time at this computer age and received replies from people who knew people with the blood type we needed and were willing to donate. Strangers appeared at our hospital door ready to be screened by the blood bank. Relatives from the province who got wind of platelets available in their local blood bank traveled all the way to the city just to bring it to us. The tremendous response and effort of family and friends paid off as we were able to pool together the 28 units of platelets and 3 units of packed red blood cells needed to sustain Franz. After 4 days of transfusions his bone marrow, suppressed by the chemo drug actinomycin, began producing adequate blood components and his blood counts picked up. Immense relief and elation flooded my being at the wonderful news he was going to be all right. The cause for jubilation, however, was short-lived as the following day we faced another crisis. Franz’s liver was enlarged and its function impaired, the liver enzyme was highly elevated at 15 times the normal value and water had accumulated in his abdomen and lungs. He had hardly returned from death’s door and here he was again in mortal combat. As in the battle with his diminished blood counts, all the excellent doctors and medicine could do for him was support him with diuretics and vitamin K while his body faced the brunt of the healing work. It was alarming to see him so physically weak. It was all he could do, as I would hoist his once sturdy body each time he needed to sit up in bed or when I would lift his head for his lips to meet the glass when he’d drink his medicines. He would doze off in an instant as his days disappeared into a string of endless nights. This was a frightful sight for me as I had flashbacks of an aunt with breast cancer that metastasized to the liver. My last memories of her were of her bloated abdomen and how she just drifted off to sleep most of the time. She became weak and incoherent until one day she never woke up. It was all I could do to quell the rising panic within me and to rationally point out to myself the vast differences between my son’s situation and hers. That memory compounded an already terrifying time. Thank God my son’s spirit is strong and his body resilient! The peacefulness of his slumber belied the waging war within him. After only two days, his liver enzyme was still elevated but the figures were down to half, at only 8 times the normal value. His doctors couldn’t hide their surprise at the speed with which his condition was improving. All the other signs pointed towards his recovery: the size of his liver, as well as, his abdomen had decreased considerably and his lungs sounded clearer indicating reduced fluid. With his condition stable they finally sent us home. For now, his chemo is deferred indefinitely until his liver function returns to normal. He’ll have some follow-ups with the liver specialist and although I want him well as soon as possible, I also wish he’d have more time to recover before he resumes chemo. He has that undeniably sick look with sunken cheekbones, ashen pallor and eyes haunted by his brush with death. I want to nurture him with good food and love him back to health.