Three Peas in a Pod

My mom got the little boys matching ski caps so they could be just like Daddy!

It's the little things that bring smiles these days...and I'm not sure who was more pleased with the matching black hats, the boys or Parrish. (As a side note, I've been trying to get a perfectly cute picture for days...this picture of the boys dirty-faced and half-dressed will have to do...no time for "perfect" anymore!)

As you can tell from the above picture, Parrish is pale. He is weak. He is tired. His blood work today proved all of that. For those of you medical folks (or medical wanna-bees, myself included), Parrish's stats are: Hemoglobin (9.5); Platelets (60,000); White Blood Cells (1,100). For a frame of reference, normal Hemoglobin should be 14.0 to 17.2; normal Platelets should be 150,000 to 400,000; normal White Blood Cells should be 4,000 to 11,000. What causes this dramatic drop? Chemotherapy. This treatment doesn't only kill cancer. It kills everything else in its path. It's why no one calls chemo a cure. It is poison. And, the goal is to prevent it from poisoning your entire body long enough for it to kill the cancer cells. So, the blood count drops aren't unexpected, but they are very low. The doctor called tonight and wants to see Parrish back again early Friday morning. He will do more blood work, and be able to determine if Parrish needs a blood transfusion on Friday afternoon. He doesn't want us heading into the weekend at the current levels, risking some sort of after-hours emergency.

How nice that even at a world-renowned hospital like UAB, your doctor still calls you at 6:30 pm to give you blood work results, to ask how the patient is, to comfort you when he's giving you news that just isn't all that great. As a lawyer, in a somewhat similar client-driven industry, I just hope that I give my clients the same sort of comfort, that I make them feel as important as this doctor makes me and Parrish feel.

The reality of Parrish's blood work is that, as we knew, Parrish just has no immune system. This means he is forbidden from grocery stores, Target or Walmart-type stores, church...anywhere with large groups of people. He can't be around anyone who has so much as a sniffle. He can't shake hands, open doors, or share food. That being said, we are going to have to be rather militant about visitors in our house. Unfortunately, the doctor has told us absolutely no children--other than our own--can be in the house. This is especially difficult in our neighborhood, because it is filled with young kids who we absolutely adore. Our neighborhood has an "open door policy" you could say...which means, if the door is unlocked, you can walk right in. I hate that our house is going to have to change that policy. Of course, we welcome other visitors, so long as you are well and so long as you haven't been exposed to others who are sick. We aren't trying to be rude; we just cannot risk infection for Parrish.

These new procedures will mean working closely with Ivey's preschool to monitor the risk of infection. It will mean lots of additional hand-washing and ridiculous amounts of hand sanitizer. Campbell already reaches for the bottle of Purell at any chance he gets. I'm probably creating an OCD clean freak! Of course, this doesn't mean that Parrish can't go to work. In fact, it is important to Parrish to continue working as much as he can--from both a financial and mental perspective. Honestly, I think work is the most normal thing Parrish has these days. (It also might be more sane than our house, given that the boys are at home most days. Not only is it an escape from feeling like a cancer patient, it's an escape from the chaos of two toddlers!)

Aside from the blood work, the other challenge is weight gain for Parrish. Since January 30, 2013, Parrish has lost 18 pounds. And, he had already lost additional weight prior to that time. He is skinny. I told him today that we were going to have serious marital problems if he got anywhere near my weight. I was only half-kidding. In all seriousness, though, the doctor said that he has to gain weight. I'm well-versed in nutrition and diet, so don't worry, I am working on keeping him chock full of calorie-packed, nutritious foods.

Sometimes, it seems like our life before cancer is far, far away. This new normal can be, at times, difficult to absorb. But, even with all the changes around here, pictures of my three smiling boys remind me that no matter what, some things will never change...I will never stop smiling when my three boys smile, I will never get tired of pajama dance parties with Ivey and Campbell, and we will never stop having indoor car races (see below). Sure, Parrish can no longer participate in the races, but he is cheering for the boys from the sidelines, just as all of us are cheering for him.