The meltdown

I guess I could be an advertisement for Hogfather's Barbecue restaurant.  "Food so good it'll make you cry!"  

On Friday, Jamie brought me lunch at work.  We sat in her car in the parking lot and had pulled pork sandwiches and macaroni and cheese, and I had a complete meltdown.  It was the kind where you are crying so hard you can't even catch your breath.The lack of oxyegen makes you lightheaded which in turn makes you panic a little which just fuels the meltdown even more. So I sat in the car with take out boxes scattered around me sobbing uncontrollably in Jamie's arms unsure if I could break the cycle or even if I wanted to. I hadn't had a moment like that since early on in this process.  I could see this one coming though.

On Wednesday while I was working from home so Jamie could go to a Dr's appointment a server at one of my remote sites completely crashed. Luckily it was a local site at Coal Center, Pa so I didn't have to hop on a plane or drive to another state.  I left the house after Jamie came home to go there and do what I could.  I found one of the worst scenario's possible when I arrived.  I'll spare the technical details, only a handful of people reading this would understand any of it.  For most people it would sound like I was speaking some weird foreign language, which honestly isn't far from the truth. Suffice to say, it was a bad situation and there were a lot of people there relying on ME to fix it.

I immersed myself in the situation and formulated a plan to get things back on track. As I began to implement my plan I started finding that nothing, and I mean nothing was going according to plan.  Even the simplest tasks were turning into major ordeals and taking 10 times longer than they should.  I was trying to take one step forward and was getting knocked back six.  I worked late Wednesday.  I got up at 4 AM on Thursday and worked the entire day on it.  By the time Friday morning rolled around, everything hinged on me recovering a bunch of crucial files from the backup that was run on Tuesday before everything exploded.  I had already recovered some files off that tape Wednesday night, so I didn't expect this would be much of an issue at all.  I would just go into the office early on Friday and start the restore and I would be able to deliver those crucial files to the site before lunch.

I'll again spare the technical details, but nothing was working.  I was hitting roadblocks at every single turn.  I went into work at 6 AM.  It was pushing 2 o'clock and I had accomplished nothing. 

I was already extremely frustrated, stressed and worried when Jamie called me to tell me that she had received the results of Aidan's blood work.  The Nurse usually calls with those results.  On Friday one of Aidan's primary oncologists called.  

There are a couple of key measurements they look at.  One is called ANC (absolute neutrophil count) which is essentially a measure of is immune system.  In order for Aidan to be able to undergo any chemotherapy treatments his ANC needs to be 750.  On Friday his ANC was 50.  The other number of concern was his hemoglobin level.  When he left the hospital on Monday, his hemoglobin measurement was 9.1.  The "normal level" for kids is 11-14. When it drops into the 8's is when you start to see symptoms of anemia like listlessness, pale complexion, light headiness etc.  When those symptoms appear it means that a blood transfusion is in order.  On Friday Aidan's hemoglobin level was 7.7.

Those numbers themselves were scary, but even scarier was that it was very possible that they would fall even more.  Those numbers typically bottom out seven to ten days after the completion of a chemotherapy treatment. When his blood was drawn on Thursday night, it was not even day five.  It's important to note that though his levels were concerning even for his doctors, they did stress that seeing such a dramatic drop after five straight days of chemotherapy is not only normal but expected.  Having never been through this type of thing before that wasn't much of a comfort to us.

The possibility of an unexpected hospitalization and blood transfusion loomed over us like one of those cumulonimbus clouds Aidan is learning about with his homebound instructor.  The weekend was going to be scary and we were going to have to on high alert and monitor him extremely closely. That news on top of the work crisis was too much for me.

I know we were talking about Aidan and his cancer (which is a topic in nearly every single conversation we have these days,) but I don't even remember specifically what prompted my epic meltdown.  I do remember in the middle of it Jamie telling me just to let it all out, that I'd feel better afterwards. It did help a little but I still felt like I was out on a ledge just one misstep from plunging into a dark abyss.  It wasn't until after I went for my run and ran substantially faster than I normally do that I felt more normal.

It's Sunday night now and I'm happy to report that the work crisis has been mostly dealt with and Aidan has made it through the weekend thus far with no issues whatsoever.  (I just knocked on the wooden computer desk)

Hopefully we make it through tonight with no issues and when his blood is drawn tomorrow we'll see that his blood counts are recovering and we don't have to delay his chemotherapy on Wednesday.  I also hope that it'll be a little while before I have another meltdown like the one I had Friday.