Whew! Okay, how many of you suspect that something is up since no one posted to the blog yesterday? Perhaps we should become more random and not so proficient with the "daily" to minimize any worry among you!

Here's the deal: Although Gary was still weak and not feeling real well, we had an excellent visit with the transplant doctor at Tulane yesterday (9 a.m). We talked at length about the transplant, learned nothing new except for a tentative date in September. The doctor said Gary would need some blood, since he appeared dehydrated (again!) Then the transplant coordinator nurse took us off to do the vampire thing, and we waited. and waited. and waited.

The nurse brought us the copy of the CBC that the local oncologist wanted, and said she hadn't received the "other" yet so we were to sit tight. We did. She returned later to tell us some number was way high and she had to talk to the doctor to see what the plan was. Then the doctor's nurse came out looking for something and saw us. She questioned that we were still there, and had we seen the coordinator nurse. This nurse then informed us that they were admitting Gary. She had already secured him a room in the BMT unit. The high number is a kidney marker and it needed prompt attention. (I don't think it was noon yet.)

FINALLY about 2:00 I was sent to admitting to complete the paper work. Gary was miserable and I was angry. 3:30 we got him to the room where nurses has normal saline hanging and ready to go. They came to the room and took an ultrasound of Gary's kidneys, and told us the fluids could flush the kidneys and take care of the matter. "See you tomorrow" They later brought in a unit of blood, and we spent the night with some really prompt, capable, caring, and quiet nurses.

This morning Gary was feeling considerably better. The numbers in question had dropped from 3.9 to 3.3. (They should be around 1) The ultrasound was normal and the general consensus is that the chemo is the culprit. (DUH) They have continued with the saline and have given him two more units of blood. (I got a name to contact regarding donation, but obviously haven't had the chance to do that. Anticipate that opportunity.) If the numbers continued dropping at that rate, it would be another 24 hours to normal.

Gary is laying in the hospital plugged up to his metal dancing partner and I've come home since neither one of us had anything for an overnight stay. I drove out of the city just ahead of 5:00 traffic and across the causeway in dreary, rainy weather by myself. The road was wet and the rain was intermittent. Driving down Hwy 21 about fifteen minutes from the house, I saw the beautiful rainbow God sent. We're still claiming His promises.

All is well. Hopefully Gary will be home tomorrow morning. If not he'll be lying up there feeling lots better!