Day 9

I don’t know how she does it. In fact, I don’t know how most stay-at-home moms do it – especially during the summer, when the kids are home all day. While I could classify today as a ‘fun’ day with the kids, I’m exhausted. I truly have a newfound respect for Courtney. It’s not that I didn’t respect or admire what she did before. It’s just that now the respect is greater and the admiration deeper. I only wish it didn’t take such a crummy trial for that to happen.

After getting the kids to bed, I came to the hospital to spend the night with Courtney. She wants everyone to know that “getting the chemo is easy.” All she has to do is nothing…except endure a painful botched PICC line and the installation of tubes just below her collar bone. So far she hasn’t noticed any adverse side effects. Her nose was a little dry yesterday, but nothing some nose drops won’t help. She misses her bed at home, but at least she has her pillows. She says more than once a day that this just doesn’t seem real. I think we both have a hard time believing this is really happening. Maybe that’s a blessing. Maybe it’s easier to bear when the full reality or gravity of the trial doesn’t completely sink in. You try your best to suppress the negative thoughts and not think about the words ‘leukemia’ or ‘cancer’ or how long this all might last or the separation of your family, but they are impossible to keep away all the time. The uncomfortable hospital bed or the beeping of an IV pump or the sight of a bag of blood dripping into the IV all have a way of reminding you why you’re here.

As for the chemo, it’s still doing what it’s supposed to be doing. Her WBC’s have dropped to within normal range for the first time in almost three weeks. She still has neutrophils and some lymphocytes. That’s good. It won’t be long before everything is down to zero. What were really waiting for is for the chemo to end (hopefully by Friday) and her counts to go back up to normal, with NO blasts.

I feel like I’ve lied about the whole “she can’t see her kids anymore”. But truly, I believe prayers have been answered. Since she still has some bacteria fighting neutrophils, I brought the kids to see her again today. It was that or take them to church. I’m sure Heavenly Father understands. After all, it’s thanks to Him that the kids could come. It was a good visit as everyone got to hang out in a small family room and eat Subway that Courtney’s mom bought. I think being able to see the kids and spend time with them really lifts her spirits, and makes this whole thing ‘slightly more bearable’. That’s one notch above ‘unbearable’ on the bearability chart.

We can’t get over how well our children have adjusted. They really are helping us to get through this, along with those who have helped us to care for them. They still make us laugh (and cry and yell) every day. Case in point: This evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Emma and Miranda were arguing about whether Emma was poor or not. I don’t have any idea how it started. When Miranda walked away, Emma said, “Daddy, Miranda says that I’m not poor, but I am because I don’t own anything. Daddy, could you buy me something at the store so that I can own something. Because I don’t own anything…except a Dora blanket, and a Dora game, and another Dora game, and a Dora lunchbox. But that’s all, only some Dora stuff.” I tried to tell her that she has lots of stuff, like her clothes and her bed and other toys, but she didn’t buy it. She’s convinced that she’s poor. It made me laugh. It’s nice to be able to laugh at times like this. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers – they really are making a difference.

Day 8

The therapy is doing what it's supposed to. Courtney's WBC's are down to 39,900, from 83,800 yesterday and a high of 102,000 when she was admitted. Within the week these should be down to zero. Essentially we are re-booting Courtney's immune system. It's like hitting Ctrl-Alt-Del on her bone marrow.

Since the bone marrow is also responsible for producing RBC's (red blood cells) and platelets, these will need to be given to her as needed. As such, she received both, blood and platelets today and will need more as the treatment progresses.

The main thing we want to see drop are blasts. The blasts cells are made in the bone marrow and are supposed to mature into different types of WBC's (white blood cells). Leukemia prevents the blasts from maturing, thus making them useless. They are included in her WBC count. Typically you want 0-5% of your WBC's to be blast cells. In Courtney's case they've been more than 95%. So, the good news is that the absolute count of her blasts dropped to 37,900 from 81,300 yesterday. Again, we essentially want 0 blasts.

At the end of seven days, her 'therapy will end and her bone marrow will essentially be allowed to 'power back on'. Then her WBC's will rise back up to their normal levels, with little to no blasts present.

So, all in all, it's expected, but good news. The other good news is that I was able to bring the kids to see Courtney today and spend some time alone with her. Thank you grandma, grandpa, aunt Kelley and Jimmie for taking care of the kids! We had a really nice visit and she's had a really good nap while I've been writing. Other than a headache, sore incision, upset stomach and leukemia, she's feeling OK. I wish she didn't have to go through this.

Courtney's Angels

Just when I thought I might make it through a day tear free, I found this in my email box:

The church, the community, the neighborhood and the school have all given and expressed such great love and support for Courtney Flynn. We have gift cards from the school, care packages from the church, lunches from the women's Relief Society, lawn mowing by the neighbors and 2 garage sales already planned for the 13th and the 20th in Lost Creek and Trophy Club respectively. This has all been done in love and has been well received and appreciated. There could never be enough for such a wonderful person like Courtney and her precious family.

I wanted to let you know of an effort by some very talented women in Keller to make "Courtney's Angels" t-shirts for her benefit. We'll look forward to seeing those and I'll let you know when they're ready for purchase.

Also, we hope to bring news soon of a Blood Drive in honor of Courtney.

We know that so many people want to help and contribute in any way that they can so we wanted to make sure that everyone was aware of what was already taking place. Please forward this on to anyone that you know who is concerned and interested in Courtney and her family. They can give me their email and I'll be glad to put them on the Courtney's Angels email list.

Lastly, I have set up an account with Bank of America called Courtney's Angels where people can donate. So many people want to do something right now. They want to bring meals or clean the house and the Flynns are in the hospital and cannot benefit from those efforts right now. If you are restless to serve or feel you can only help monetarily, now there is a way for you to feel that you have helped the Flynns as they begin their battle.

Thank you to everyone,
Michelle Miller

The saying goes,"There's a silver lining in every cloud." And while this epsiode in our lives is much more than a cloud, the love and support from our families and friends have made linings much richer than silver. Again, thank you.

Day 7 - Watch and wait

From what I can tell, Courtney had a pretty good day today, relatively speaking of course. And that's relative to the fact that she's confined to a hospital room with a nasty gash in her arm and a pair of tubes protruding from her chest delivering a fairly toxic chemical into her blood stream to destroy leukemic cells in her bone marrow that are trying their best to take over her body. Relative to her typical Friday, I would say that today sucked. Sorry, but that's the first word that came to mind and I couldn't think of synonym suitable to replace it.

Her doctor had told her that she could start feeling some side effects from the therapy as early as six hours into it. He also said that she may never really feel any. More than one doctor has told her that how she felt the week preceding her hospitalization should be worse than anything she feels here on out. That's good news to hear and exactly what we'll be hoping for. So far, no apparent adverse side effects.

The good:

• Courtney's neutrophils count was near a 1000. They had been at 0 until today. That's really good news, as neutrophils are what help us battle bacteria, and though the therapy will more than likely take those back down, she at least has some protection in the mean time.
• After receiving a unit of platelets yesterday, when they dropped to 12000, she's back up to 33000. Normal is 150,000 to 400,000.
• Courtney was able to get up and walk around her floor. We want her to use her muscles as much as possible so they don't waste away during her hospital stay.
• Jill and Frankie, from where I work at Dannon, brought us BBQ brisket from Railhead for lunch. Thank you!

The bad:

• Courtney still has Leukemia.
• We still don't exactly know which type of AML she has and have to hope she's on the right treatment plan.
• Her blasts are still at 98%. We want it to be zero.
• She didn't sleep well last night. She wasn't in pain and was relaxed, she just didn't sleep much.
• She didn't get to enjoy the Railhead brisket, as her appetite isn't all there right now.

The ugly:

• That nasty gash from where the PICC line had been placed. Although it is looking better day by day.

So, drop by drop, Courtney is receiving the chemicals that are going to help save her life. While the idarubicin is a bright orange liquid (Courtney was hoping for something that looks like that green glowing tube Homer takes home at the beginning of the Simpson's), the cytarabine looks like water. It's amazing that these exist. We're so grateful to the countless scientists and doctors that have worked so brilliantly to come up with these treatments.

Hopefully Courtney is sleeping by now, but in case she happens to be restless and reading this blog: Good-night Court. I LOVE you.

Day 6 - The 'Therapy' has begun

Well, it's official. As of 10:52 this evening, Courtney has begun the harsh therapy that will cure her of this horrible disease. The plan as it stands now is to start her with doses of idarubicin for three consecutive days, starting tonight and cytarabine for seven consecutive days starting tonight. This phase, called the induction phase, usually lasts four weeks - one week of the drugs and three weeks to recover. The goal during this phase is to induce remission, meaning no detection of leukemic cells, and usually takes one to two phases to complete. A better explanation of this treatment can be found here - http://patients.uptodate.com/topic.asp?file=blod_dis/2244.

Once the therapy has begun, meaning now, Courtney will not be able to receive visitors except for adult members of her own family. And even they have to take severe precautions (thorough cleansing of hands and wear a mask) when visiting. This means our children won't be able to see their mother. Words cannot describe how difficult this has been, is and will continue to be. All we can do is endure this dificult time and look forward to the day we can all be back together and resume our lives as they were up until two weeks ago. We can get through this and will. "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;"

Day 6

It's 4:30. We were hoping to see Dr. Jordan around lunch time. But, it looks like we'll have to wait until 5 or 6:00. Also, the pathology report still hasn't come in. Courtney's nurse said she would show it to us as soon as it did. It seems like all we've been doing is waiting.

Her blood results indicated low plateletts, so she received a unit today. This really won't help her to feel better or be any healthier. It's more precautionary in case she were to get a cut or something.

Her nurse indicated that while Gleevec can be disolved in liquid, it doesn't need to be. She's not sure why there was confusion with the order last night. It looks like she'll just be able to swallow them from here on out. That's good news.

Courtney wanted me to add that she doesn't even know where to begin with regards to "Thank-you's." We're both just overwealmed with all of the support and outpouring of love. Today, a couple of friends from our church brought over a dozen gift bags of items including books, slippers, lotions, journals, puzzle books, gum, crayons, coloring books, etc. The prayers, the messages, the gifts, the visits, the phone calls, and the random acts of kindness and service all truly help to lift the spirits. They're the sugar that's helping the bad medicine go down...literally and figuratively. Again - Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Day 5 - Results are in but incomplete

I'm sorry to keep everyone waiting. We waited for the doctor until it was apparent he wouldn't be coming until late this afternoon. Knowing that we had another day without the therapy beginning, Courtney wanted to take advantage of the day to see the kids again. So I went and got Kylie and Miranda out of school early (didn't have to twist any arms there) and picked up Emma and Aidan too. Just as we returned to the hospital, Courtney's sister, Kelley, arrived. We had a really nice afternoon letting the kids visit with Court again and hanging out with Aunt Kelley and Courtney's parents.

Finally, Dr. Jordan arrived sometime around 5:00. While we did get more answers, the diagnosis is not complete. However, the news we did get is relatively good. AML was once again confirmed by the pathology report. And, according to the phenotyping and genetic markers found thus far, Dr. Jordan said that they believe they've narrowed the AML type down to two of the possible eight FAB (French-American-British classification) subtypes: M0 and M3. He said that if he could choose any two of the eight to have, meaning the two with the best prognosis, it would be these two. M0 and M3 have significantly different treatment plans. So, until the diagnosis is 100% (hopefully sometime tomorrow) there will be no treatment. He did reassure us that this delay, so to speak, does not affect prognosis. Another bit of good news.

He did recommend starting her on an "unconventional" form of treatment tonight. There she goes again beating the odds. The medication/chemotherapy he suggested starting tonight is called Gleevec. It's typically used to treat Chronic Myologenous Leukemia (hers is Acute) and Gastrointestinal Stromal Tumors (GIST). The reason being is that Courtney's results contained a marker common to those. He's not sure why. He did say that the Gleevec has relatively minor side affects but could help lower her blast counts (that would be a good thing). So, we followed his advice. Unfortunately, as I was putting the kids to bed, I couldn't be here when she took it. But it sounds like it was not a pleasant experience. She had to dissolve the pills into a liquid (she chose apple juice) and drink it. She was still feeling nauseous from it when I returned. If anyone reading this has ever had to take Gleevec this way, and knows something better to use than apple juice, advice would be welcomed.

We still can't get over the outpouring of love and support from our family and friends. It truly has been tremendous. We only wish we could accept every generous offer. However, if we accepted every offer to watch and care for our children, we would be 80 by the time we saw them again. So we thank you all from the bottom of our hearts and we truly love you.