An empty glass

In the interest of full disclosure, today has sucked. In the cancer world, there are a lot of sucky days. Today stood out even in the cancer world as a really sucky day.

I simply couldn’t think of a thing to say when Mike called from Ohio State to tell me he couldn’t get treatment again today due to a low hemoglobin, and that there is talk of removing him from the clinical trial. The sponsor of the clinical trial is getting antsy. We have been told that they will not accept a third delay in treatment due to low blood levels. Sorry isn’t adequate when you feel your world crashing down around you.

Last night his feet were so swollen with edema that he could barely walk. He still went to work yesterday, and worked all day. He lay down on our bed, and his feet looked like they had been blown up with the air compressor he uses to blow up my lake float. I got out of bed, and propped up his feet with some pillows, and massaged his aching hands that were also swollen. He was so fatigued that he could barely thank me.

Despite his fatigue, he slept fitfully all night due to the drug he is on to fight the edema. It makes him urinate frequently, and he was up and down all night long.

He still got up this morning, and drove himself to Ohio State which took 4 hours due to all the construction for treatment. It was only a few days ago that we got back from his sons graduation in West Virginia which involved 12 hours of driving in 24 hours. He got to Ohio State for treatment, and found out that he is so anemic again that he needed a blood transfusion, and they couldn’t treat him.
bloodtransfuison2 The Blood

He spent the day getting a blood transfusion. Only one unit, as it takes 6 hours to type and match your blood when you get a blood transfusion. It is 2 hours per unit just to transfuse you, and they close the cancer center at 7pm. They tried to get him into the main hospital to get the 2 units he needed, but apparently they were full.

He will have to get the other unit at University of Michigan in the next couple days, which will again require a 6 hr minimum appointment to again type, match, and transfuse his blood.

We will try to get his treatment again next Friday. If he has a blood level of 8.1 they will give him the immunotherapy treatment. If he doesn’t it is pretty clear what will happen then.

We approach Mikes cancer treatments with a one day at a time attitude. Today we need to get his hemoglobin levels up. It will help with his fatigue level, and it is crucial that we get it up for his health. We’ll move on to his upcoming treatment, the scans that are coming, and the possible ending of his participation in the trial another day.

I have no uplifting closing paragraph. No funny sentence. I have a husband who’s sick, still on his way home at 9pm at night from Ohio, and a heavy heart.



  1. I am just so sorry about this day for you both! Keeping you in my prayers. 🙏

  2. I am so sorry. You continue to be in my prayers. Sometimes I wonder if God is listening… But that’s all I have… So prayers for swelling to go down, blood to match and the trial to continue. You are loved far and wide.

  3. I’m so sorry! My heart goes out to you both. I feel your pain.

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