Round Two Reality: Clippers, Courage, and Chemo

Phillip's chemo was originally scheduled for last Monday, June 16th, but due to his low platelet counts his infusions were postponed until today. While the delay was disappointing, it gave his body some much needed time to recover. And in true Phillip fashion, he made the most of it by sneaking in two rounds of golf this past week. Moving forward, Phillip will receive a post-chemo injection to help boost his platelet counts and hopefully keeping future treatments on schedule and delays off the calendar.

This past week Phillip also made the decision it was time to shave his head. Although they said he may not lose his hair...everyone handles chemo differently. Over the past 5-7 days, his hair has been falling out and in a moment reminiscent of Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite, Phillip shaved his head during a record breaking heat wave. If there was ever a time to go bald, this was it.

Phillip used to shave his head back when he was training for triathlons and Ironman races. It’s always been a look he can pull off with ease. But for Lenie, this was brand new. She has never seen her daddy with a shaved head, so when he walked into the room freshly buzzed, her wide-eyed surprise said it all.

As sweet as that moment was, it marked a quiet turning point -an outward sign of the fight Phillip is in the middle of.

We were eager for this morning's treatment and anxious on whether his platelets would be high enough to proceed. Thankfully, his platelets rebounded and round two was a go. The nurses welcomed us back like old friends, and we walked into the infusion room with a sense of calm and a clearer sense of what the day would bring. We’re learning to carry both the hard and the hopeful, one round at a time.

After Phillip’s infusion began, we met with Danna, a nurse practitioner from the Palliative Care Team. What we expected to be a quick 20-minute conversation about oxycodone turned into a deeply meaningful two-hour discussion about life “before” cancer, and how he’s truly feeling now. Every symptom or side-effect was covered and her compassion and inquisitive questions were not lost on us. His current regimen is being replaced by a combination of medications to better manage long-term pain, abdominal pressure, nausea and fatigue. Danna mentioned her goal is to make Phillip feel as normal as possible, and only have a few hard days post-chemo. This was so hopeful to hear as the last five weeks have been devastating to see the pain, fatigue and nausea steal away the Phillip we all know.

Thankfully, Phillip seemed to tolerate the infusions better than the first round. After we walked out of the oncologist office, he requested to grab a bite at Shake Shack. It was no accident we chose the Edina office for the infusions since Shake Shack is located conveniently across the street. I sat across from him and watched in quiet amazement as he devoured an entire cheeseburger. An entire cheeseburger.  A wave of peace settled over me. For those of you who have not seen Phillip in the last few months, he has lost significant weight, and today, it was confirmed he has lost approximately 50 pounds since the beginning of the year. I have watched him pick at food over the last few months and him saying, "I'm just full." What we didn’t know then was that his liver had become significantly enlarged due to the tumors, so much so, that it was creating an unnatural sense of fullness after just a few bites.

Although it was wonderful to see him eat so much, as we got in the car to drive home from Shake Shack, he said, "Now Kelley, don't make me carsick and throw all this food up." Cue the white-knuckled driving. I instantly transformed into a hyper-aware version of myself—channeling the caution of a 15-year-old with a “Student Driver” sticker slapped on the bumper. Every gentle tap of the brake or slight lane change had me on edge, silently pleading with the cheeseburger to stay exactly where it was.

Lunch was a success and we made it home without any cheeseburger casualties. Now, Phillip is tucked into his post-chemo nap, resting while the meds do their work. As he sleeps, I glance at his chemo pump and muster all the positive energy in the universe, cheering it on like a tiny superhero. Here’s to science doing its thing, and to brighter days ahead.