The Bottom of the List

Posted on July 19, 2022 by Margaret

We promised to let you know if something happened with Nelson’s health, and sadly, it has.

On Sunday evening, Ann Sophie noticed he wasn’t himself. He’d been sleeping most of the day, with an increase in coughing. His oxygen was at 76, dangerously low, and even with a 4-liter oxygen assist, it wouldn’t register above 91. His fever was 100.8, pulse 120, blood pressure 93/68.

Nelson, Ann Sophie, Will, and her mother Astrid are still technically in a covid quarantine period, but the oncologist said Nelson should go to the ER anyway. This is always last choice on Nelson’s list, and being admitted to the hospital is even below that. But he went, and it wasn’t long before they had admitted him, this time to the Methodist Hospital of the Mayo Clinic.

He received antibodies, but the doctor found that because of his depleted immune system, he had contracted another infection, possibly bacterial pneumonia. They began IV antibiotics and gave no promise about going home any time soon—exactly what Nelson had hoped wouldn’t happen.

His breathing, always troublesome, called for a draining of the left lung. They collected over 1000 milliliters, which helped him breathe better but was more than had been collected in quite some time. Even after this improvement, though, his oxygen would go down immediately if he removed the nasal cannula.

Amidst all of this bad news, there was one positive development. His platelets had gone from a dangerously low count of 27 to 325. This means the bone marrow has probably recovered from the last blast of chemo three weeks ago and is now doing its job with the platelets. We rejoice over this victory.

But Ann Sophie’s assessment last night when she left the hospital was that his swelling had increased throughout his body. This is fluid that’s being produced by the cancer itself. There was concern over the extreme swelling in his left arm as a result of the extensive clot beneath his collar bone that extends into three veins. Last we knew, they were talking about another ultrasound to look closely at it.

This report probably includes more medical detail than you might have needed, but many are asking. Thank you for your continued prayers for Nelson and his family as this disease yanks them in and out of crisis after crisis. May God bring peace, progress, and even some fresh joy to them in the midst of all this misery.

“He who watches over you will not slumber. The Lord will watch over your life. The Lord will watch over your coming and going, both now and forevermore.” (Psalm 121, parts)

A Pause

Posted on July 15, 2022 by Margaret

When I was growing up, Coca Cola had a long-running ad campaign that pictured happy people enjoying Cokes under a banner that said, “The pause that refreshes.”

We’ve come to be refreshed by a whole new kind of pause—a pause in cancer crises. For example, right now Nelson is in a measure of calm, and it’s a welcome rest from sudden bad news or blood numbers that cause unexpected strategy changes.

When Nelson and I agreed today that nothing noteworthy had happened in regard to his cancer, we decided it might be a good time for a refreshing pause. Thus our communication through the blog might take a few days off.

Before we go, though, we’ll bring you up-to-date. Nelson is still technically quarantining with his family (Covid), so doctors and others are trying to meet with him virtually—all except the daily blood draws. They lift the quarantine for him to appear in the lab each morning for a poke.

His next face-to-face is scheduled for July 20, an informal decision-making meeting. Nelson’s immune system is compromised, which is why he’s not to go shopping, to meet with other people, or even to end up in the hospital. He’s been advised against any family get-togethers except with those three in his same “pool.” That includes Ann Sophie, Will, and Astrid.

So like we said, there’s not much to tell. “Ahhh. Refreshing.”

If something unanticipated should happen, we’ll get a blog out to you asap. But please don’t think that an absence of posts for several days means calamity has come. It will mean the opposite, that all is well.

Meanwhile, we appreciate your willingness to pray:

…that Nelson will stay out of the hospital.
…that swelling throughout his body will decrease.
…that doctors will know the wisest way to go.
…that we’ll all learn what God is trying to teach us.

“In quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15)

We’re covered.

Posted on July 14, 2022 by Margaret

Love comes down.

When Nelson was hospitalized, Ann Sophie sat nearby and sketched what she was thinking and seeing. Here’s the result.

There’s Nelson, tucked into his bed (with the plastic mattress) in a sitting position, as always. And there she is, close by with baby Will on her lap. The most fascinating part of the sketch, though, is that God is there too. His hand is covering all three of them, as well as the IV pole and the nurses’ computer, two important items. And his hand is delivering multiple gifts of love.

I think the key word might be “covering.”

I (Nelson’s mom) am back in southwest Michigan right now, since 15 of my 16 grandchildren have come to town. Meanwhile, in Minnesota, Ann Sophie’s mom is providing a third pair of hands.

But no matter where we are or what the schedule dictates on any given day, we all know we have God’s covering of love. And thanks to you, Reader, we also have your covering of prayer.

In the last two days, the Mayo doctors have been trying to figure out a wise approach for the next phase of Nelson’s care. Though they’re excited about finding the mutation that will allow immunotherapy, they can’t go blindly into that next treatment without letting his current treatment (i.e. chemotherapy) work its way out of his system.

If they move too soon, the treatment Nelson might overwhelm him. The old expression “hold your horses” seems to apply. We want immunotherapy treatment asap, but their wisdom says, “Hold on a minute.”

Complicating everything is the blood thinner Nelson’s taking to work steadily on the large blood clot beneath his collar bone. It usually takes months to dissolve a clot like that, so he won’t be off blood thinners any time soon. In the mean time, when Nelson asks, ”What can I do to help?”, he gets this answer:

“Just don’t go anywhere, don’t get sick, don’t cut yourself, and watch for anything abnormal. The second anything happens, go right to the ER.”

Though this sounds threatening, Nelson is taking it in stride, because as he often says, “It’s always too soon to panic.” He’s simply living out his own advice. And he fully believes God is, indeed, covering him, pouring love into his life steadily as Ann Sophie’s sketch shows, no matter what’s happening around him.

A college friend of mine, Pam, has been sending us pictures, laminated cards, a beautiful necklace, an umbrella coloring book, and many other umbrella-related items in an effort to say the same thing: we are covered—both by God’s love and by the prayers of many. We are thankful!