Dear Friends and Family,
It has been pretty monotonous (and wonderful) the last two weeks. So there hasn’t been much to report—that is, until my phone rang yesterday morning.
“Hello, this is Susan from the University Infusion Center. We have a delivery for Nancy Winn and want to confirm that someone’s home.”
“Hi, Susan. This is Nancy’s husband, and unfortunately, she’s at her weekly doctor’s appointment. And I’m at work in Park City. What do you have for us today?”
(Supplies and medicines arrive two or three times a week at our Salt Lake City apartment. So calls like this are not unexpected and have become part of our daily routine.)
“Let’s see. Heparin flushes, tubing, and some IV bags with Amphotericin”
“Excuse me, Susan, did you say Amphotericin?” (Amphotericin is a potent though highly toxic drug that combats fungal infections. Luckily, Nancy has never been required to take it. My hand went limp and I almost dropped the phone as I wondered, “Why would she need it now?”)
“Yes, Mr. Winn. I did say Amphotericin. It will be in her nighttime IV. When do you expect your wife back at your apartment?”
“I’ll check, Susan. And then call you back.”
“Fine, let me know as soon as you find out.”
My heart sank as I heard the click on the other end of the telephone line. A flurry of thoughts overwhelmed me.
Does Nancy have a fungus?
A fungus could be big trouble.
By reflex, I dialed Jayna’s mobile number immediately. Jayna was at the Blood and Marrow Transplant Clinic with her mother because I was at work at the clinic.
“Hey, Dadder. We’re still at our appointment. We’re just finishing up and talking with the doctor. Let me call you back in a couple of minutes?”
“Uh . . . all right, Jayna.” I put my phone away while I replayed my conversation with Jayna over again in my mind.
Did she sound upset?
No.
Worried?
Not really.
Before I could decide what to do next, a familiar vibration jolted the area over my heart. I pulled my phone from my chest pocket. But before Jayna could even say “Hi,” I blurted, “Jayna, is there something wrong with Mom? What’s going on?”
“She’s fine, Dadder. In fact, everyone on the team said she’s doing great. They’re stopping two of her pills and cutting back her nighttime IV. Why? What’s the matter?”
I recounted my phone conversation with Susan. Jayna reassured me that no one had mentioned the dreaded word fungus or, for that matter, Amphotericin.
“Thanks, Jayna. You’ve made my day. No, my week.”
I dialed the Infusion Center’s number the second after I said good-bye to Jayna.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Winn. The previous patient I talked with was the one due for Amphotericin. We don’t administer that drug at home often, so it must’ve still been on my mind. Nancy is scheduled for Ganciclovir in her IV, not Amphotericin—just like last week. Again, I’m really sorry to have worried you.”
“No problem, Susan. Nancy will be back at our apartment within the hour. I’m very happy you were wrong.”
But I was unhappy that sometimes I know too much. Unfortunately, knowing too much means I am oftentimes aware of the darker possibilities and constantly looking just below the surface for any danger.
Fortunately, there weren’t any sharks today.
Fortunately, there isn’t any fungus either.
Summary: It has been another quiet two weeks and Nancy is making steady progress.
Love,
Winnie