Cycle three
Three generations of trouble in one photo: Glenn’s daughter Steph, grandson Zeke in his Messi jersey, sister Mary, and Glenn himself
Well, Cycle 3 was supposed to start last week, but Dad’s sodium had other plans.😅 His labs came back low again, so his doctor hit the pause button and gave him an extra week to regroup before jumping back into treatment.
We met with his oncologist last week and went through all of his medications. One thing she added was an appetite stimulant, and wow… whoever invented that stuff deserves a raise. Dad’s appetite has improved SO much, and maybe even better than that — he’s sleeping so much better. Real, restful sleep. It’s amazing how much better a person feels when they’re actually eating and sleeping.
We’re also starting to have some conversations about getting rid of medications instead of adding more, which feels like a win in itself. His blood pressure has been running low, so we’re working with the doctors to see what medications may no longer be necessary. It’s nice to have some “less is more” conversations for a change.
Today, Dad officially kicked off Cycle 3 and received his immunotherapy, chemo, and bone shot. His sister Peggy joined him for today’s treatment, kept him company, and made friends with the nurses, who were surprised to meet yet another one of Dad’s sisters (and still don’t know there are more in the lineup). The bone shot comes with the lovely possibility of flu-like symptoms, but so far he’s feeling great and optimistic.
Once Cycle 3 wraps up, we’ll do another scan to see where things stand and how things are progressing. This will be his first scan since the original PET scan and results, so it feels like an important checkpoint in the journey.
In early July, we’ll be meeting with the palliative care team, and we’re actually really looking forward to it. I’ve since learned that palliative care isn’t all or nothing, and it’s not the same as hospice care, which I originally thought it was (and so do a lot of people apparently!) You don’t have to choose between continuing treatment or shifting to comfort care. Palliative care sounded intimidating at first, but it doesn’t mean that we’re giving up or treatment is changing or stopping. I like to think of it as we’re giving Dad extra teammates on his team. Their whole job is to help manage symptoms, medications, quality of life, and all the little things that come with navigating things. We’re excited to see what ideas and support they might have, to keep Dad feeling better and better each day.
On top of that, Dad’s oncologist is still acitvely looking into other specialist doctors to help us better understand and manage his sodium issues, since it continues to be a bit of a mystery. Potentially this could include specialists like a nephrologist (kidney specialist), endocrinologist (hormones and fluid balance), and in some cases pulmonology or internal medicine, depending on what might be driving the imbalance. The goal is just to get more eyes on it and piece together what’s causing it so we can get ahead of it rather than constantly reacting to it.
The most important part is that Dad’s spirits are high. He’s eating, he’s sleeping, he’s joking around, and he’s staying positive. As always, thank you all for the prayers, messages, meals, and encouragement. We read every text, appreciate everything, and are so lucky for the village surrounding Dad and our family.
