Finale from Feb. 27, 2005

I thought the adventure was over when Pam's chemotherapy regimen was shortened from 8 treaments over 4 months to 4 over 2 (this happened when it became very evident that this protocol treatment and Pam were not compatible). Little did I know that the effects of the chemo would continue to haunt Pam for a very long time, so I closed out my regular updates for the most part and Pam drifted into obscurity to wage a more private battle with what she was left with. It hasn't been fun, but the last four years have been very special. The update below contains some bald pics of Pam. I hope she doesn't mind, she didn't back then, but she was in la-la-land at the time. More potential trouble for me...

Email update from 2/27/2005

Hopefully the last word




This should be the last time you hear from the Lingenfelter family, medically speaking. After adding a half gallon (4 units?) of blood to Pam, she was released from the hospital. That was around 9:30pm last night. There was no internal bleeding as they first freaked us out with upon arrival in the ER Thursday night. Just a nasty dose of chemo 8 days earlier that worked it's magic and killed off a lot of Pam's blood supply. If her chemo has worked it's way out, this new blood should keep her feeling better until her body once again begins producing new hemoglobin.
We don't plan on having to go back as the chemo regimen is over. Pam has made some new friends on the oncology floor at the hospital, but she won't be longing to have any more sleepovers there. Pam had a friend stay with her Friday night, so I could go home and try to sleep off my flu. Somewhere between 11pm Friday night and 8am Saturday morning they had a party. Remember, Pam gets drugs in the hospital. When I opened the door to the room Saturday morning the first thing I saw was a Domino's Pizza box on the floor. Munchies? Seems that around 1am, with the sleeping drugs not working, Pam ordered up a pizza. Whoops! She went to the hospital in her jammies. No money. Her friend Deb was moneyless as well. Somehow they "sort of" paid for it. It was probably the only pizza delivered to the cancer floor all night.

Friday, after the first two units of blood were given, but before Pam really started feeling better, the kids came to visit. No matter how bad she feels, Pam always cranks out a great smile. By Saturday night, with the full half gallon of blood, Pam's color had recovered from the awful gray of last week. She was actually feeling better and ready to be home.

Below is a picture of the binders containing the encouraging letters, cards and emails. The card binder is ten inches thick, and the printed emails number into the hundreds. The gifts, meals, babysitting, Pamsitting, housecleaning, laundry, errand running and above all prayers have meant more than we can ever express. My hope is that we are not unique, that everyone who is sick and needs help is supported as much as we have been. But I know they aren't, and that is sad. It is hard enough getting through with a ton of help, but alone it must be unbelievable. All I can say is if you encounter any major illness, let people know so they can pray for and serve you. That is what we as Christians do, we serve. And sometimes we need to be served.

I am droning on as I usually do, but at least this is officially the last Pam update. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Rick