Memorial Services for Jim Chastain
CHASTAIN FUNERAL TUESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2:00 P.M. at McFarlin Memorial United Methodist Church, Norman.
Memorial service for Jim Chastain will be Tuesday, December 29 at 2:00 p.m. in Norman.
Following the service there will be a reception for friends and family to share memories. “Memory Cards” will be available at the service for people to share thoughts/memories of Jim that LeAnn wants to save for Maddye and Ford. If you cannot attend the service, leave them on the Oklahoman blog and she can retrieve them from there.
Memorial contributions can be made to the Jim Chastain Memorial Fund at First Bank and Trust in Norman. This money will go toward a college fund for Jim’s two children.
Jim Chastain has died.
Ken Raymond here. I am sorry to share with you the tragic news that Jim’s battle with cancer has reached its end. Although my part in his story ended several months ago, I have followed him on this blog, as you have, and have been touched by your comments and encouragement to him.
I’d like to express my condolences to LeAnn, Maddye, Ford and Jim’s parents, siblings and extended family. I have fond memories of last Christmas with you, and I can only imagine how difficult this one must be. I am so sorry.
Charlotte Lankard, a longtime friend of Jim’s and a contributor to The Oklahoman, posted the comment below on Jim’s last blog entry. Please share your thoughts with her:
“Jim Chastain died peacefully last night in his sleep. If you have any comments or (brief) descriptions of how you experienced him….please email me at clankard@cox.net and I’ll use it in in a story for the Oklahoman.
“Charlotte Lankard”
Hanging in There
I’m still alive, but my health has really been slipping in the last two months. Hope to get some posts out soon, but I rarely feel like writing.
Looks Like I’m In!
I received good news today. It was in a fortune cookie from Pei Wei.
“You will move to a wonderful new home within the year.”
I’m thinking the reference was about heaven, because we have no plans to move anywhere and our home here on earth is already wonderful.
And I have to admit, this heavenly news came as quite a relief. Up till then, I’d figured I was pretty much on the bubble.
Quick Update
Today, I’ve left the house (other than two brief walks) for the first time in a week. For the most part I’ve been in bed, hoping for a change.
But today I managed to drive my car to work for half a day.
The new medications (lasix and another diuretic) have helped a little, I think. It’s hard to tell, really. Less fluid seems to be gathering in my stomach, although it’s still gathering. I’ve only been able to eat small portions of anything, so I have little energy. And I drink as much as I can, but that doesn’t seem like much either.
They’ve said I can do no chemo for a month. The chemo, however, is what is holding the cancer back. So I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place here.
I’m just trying to do the best I can during this rough patch, hoping I will have some return to normalcy in the future.
Ultrasounds, Hospitals and Doctors, Oh My!
That I’m back at the computer at all is saying something, for the last six days have been a down-spiraling curve of declining health, or, perhaps, symptoms that can lead to no other conclusion.
It started weeks ago, as I described in past posts. The Ascites (fluid filling up my stomach cavity) had been momentarily forestalled by draining it out with a needle. This had allowed a long-awaited trip to Austin, twelve days ago, and a reading at Full Circle Bookstore with friends the Monday afterward.
After that, I was scheduled for chemo on Thursday, six days ago. But at that point things started going downhill. My labs came back with some problems that prevented me from receiving chemo. (High proteins and bilirubin scores). Instead, I was given fluids and Avastin and sent home. Meanwhile, the fluids had started building in my stomach again and I was feeling tired and bloated.
Halloween weekend was fairly miserable. I’m not sure that I ever left the house, except for a walk with my wife to Starbucks and an hour cleaning leaves from the pool, both of which were followed by three hour naps. I couldn’t eat, so my family went without me, bringing me home some soup afterward. I did my best to choke it down.
By Sunday night, my stomach resembled Buddha’s, and I was having trouble breathing. At one point, my son became very concerned, which is saying something when it comes to a teenager, and my wife was threatening to take me to the emergency room. I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday, so I was able to convince her I could make it until then.
On Monday, I met with doctors and described my latest symptoms. They sent me for a chest x-ray and an ultrasound and another procedure to have to ascites removed. 1.4 liters of fluid were taken, but I also had fluid in my lungs, so they checked me into the hospital for the night. The plan was to check the fluid in my lungs the next day and drain it if needed.
My condition improved, however, after the stomach fluid was removed. Follow-up x-rays and ultrasounds on Tuesday showed that most of the fluid in my lungs was gone too, meaning it had likely infiltrated the lungs from the stomach. New drugs were prescribed to try to assist in getting rid of the stomach fluid and I was sent home.
My stomach feels much better, for now, and I have been able to eat a little again. But I was exhausted on Tuesday night and having trouble breathing again. Plus, I had chills and couldn’t get warm.
It is now Wednesday and I’m resting at home. The chills are gone and I have enough energy to, well, think and type. I’m still not breathing well, however.
So what’s wrong with me? A damaged liver? Blood pressure issues? Some other condition relating to treatments? Walking pneumonia? H1N1? A combination of these? Or none of the above.
Who knows? But tomorrow it’s back to the doctors with the goal of getting me stable enough to do chemo.
Hooray.
As the Stomach Turns
Sorry for the delay in this update, but you can pretty much bank on the fact that when I’m not writing I’m either too busy or too sick. This was a combination of both.
Last Thursday, I finally had the fluid that had accumulated in my abdomen removed. It was quite an ordeal, much more involved than I had been led to believe. Arrived at the hospital at 10:45 a.m. and wasn’t released until 4 p.m. There were doctors, nurses, anesthesiologists, ultrasound techs, etc., involved, and I hate to see what the final bill will have to say.
The procedure left a large bruise and some soreness in some unexpected places, like my leg. But it did ultimately provide some of that much-needed relief I was after.
Once they got going, they were able to drain somewhere between 1.5 to 2 liters of liquid in about ten minutes. The stuff was green, like green beer on St. Patrick’s Day. (I know what some of you are thinking!)
Anyway, afterward I felt much better. Not good mind you, but a lot better than miserable.
I still haven’t been able to eat much, or drink either for that matter. This, of course, is a concern. I’m worried the liquid is coming back again and that I’ll soon be back to where I was.
I’ll meet with a doctor in two days, and they’ll tell me what was in the liquid and where it likely came from. Hopefully there will be a plan to provide additional relief. I miss going out to eat with my friends.
But let’s be thankful for small victories. As a result of the procedure, I was able to head to Austin this weekend with my son Ford. He had done the music for a film (Simmons on Vinyl) that was premiering at the Austin film Festival. He even had a part in the movie. We attended a sold-out screening and watched a q & a session afterwards with writer/director Mark Potts and cowriter Cole Selix. And the next day, Ford played a gig at Progress Coffee in downtown Austin.
Fun times, getting the chance to see my son’s music in a real movie, real theater, before a real audience. Hope to have more of them.
Belly Achin’
Some of you were familiar with Winston, the black cocker spaniel LeAnn and I owned back when we were first married.
I say owned, but that’s really not the way it worked. Winston was one of us. He truly believed he was a human, not a canine. When other dogs came around and start sniffing, Winston didn’t really know what to do. He seemed put out by it, as if he was trying to figure out why this whatever-it-was found him so interesting. We never had to get him “fixed,” because he ignored other dogs and kept to himself.
Anyway, Winston did have a few bad habits. One of the funniest was that he was an absolute pig when it came to eating. He never fully trusted that his dog bowl would be full again the next day, so if he found something worth eating, he would gulp it down voraciously until it was gone. I was able to teach him an incredible amount of tricks based upon his love of food.
On several occasions, after LeAnn and I had bought groceries but left a few items on the counter, Winston would make his move. He would stand on two legs, natch, lean up over the counter, and pull an entire loaf of bread onto the floor. Ten minutes or so later, when we returned to the kitchen to put away the rest of the groceries, we would find Winston lying on the floor, passed out with his stomach protruding out as if he were in the ninth month of pregnancy.
He had eaten the entire loaf of bread! When we touched his stomach, it would be rock hard, as if it had been a loaf of cement rather than bread. Winston would be in misery for the next day as a result of these antics. But if given the opportunity, he would surely do it again.
Which brings me to, well, me.
Several weeks ago, I spoke of new pains that had been forming in my abdomen, pains that worried me as I went for new tests in Houston. Thankfully, those pains had nothing to do with the cancer inside me. They had more to do with side effects relating to the treatments I’ve received. But with some new meds prescribed, I would hopefully be feeling better soon.
Except I haven’t felt better. My stomach has kept hurting. It is tight and bloated, like Winston’s after his bread buffet. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. And yet I’m suddenly gaining weight.
Gloom, despair, and agony on me.
Last week I found out my liver enzymes were at a higher level than usual. I was also nearly dehydrated, because I haven’t been able to drink much.
So this week, it’s been back and forth to the doctors. Blood work. An ultrasound. Turns out some fluid has been building in my stomach/stomach cavity. Hence the Winston effect. Hence the pregnancy look. Hence the reason why my belly button may soon be an outie.
Tomorrow, they’ll go in with a needle and remove the fluid. And hopefully, unlike Winston, I’ll finally be able to sleep.
Cold as Ice
Chemotherapy doesn’t seem to help a lot when it comes to maintaining a normal body temperature.
Week after week, when they take my temperature prior to treatment, my temperature is running low.
98.0.
97.2.
97.7.
If my temperature ever gets up to the normal range, 98.6 or, God forbid, 99.0, I start worrying that I’m getting the flu.
In the summertime, my amphibian-like temperature has little effect on my days. Summers are pretty hot in Oklahoma, so it doesn’t hurt to take the edge off with my sub-par temperature.
But when the season changes and we start having a few cold, blustery days, as has been the case during the last week, all bets are off. I find myself chilled to the bone, unable to get warm no matter what I do.
The other night, the temperature was supposed to dip down into the thirties. It was bedtime, so I put on socks, heavy sweatpants, and a pullover sweatshirt with an undershirt beneath. Then I got under the sheets and the covers, which included a heavy comforter we had just put on the bed.
LeAnn began complaining about how hot it is with the comforter. Meanwhile, I’m in a fetal position under the covers, shivering. I went and put on a beanie, so the heat couldn’t escape, and then I got my favorite blanket to wrap around me. Finally I began to get warm.
The next night, the comforter was gone.
“It was just too darn hot,” LeAnn explained.
It’s going to be a long winter.
Good News
Well, the word from Houston was good.
My cancer had not grown to any significant degree since my last visit. An enlarged lymph node had not changed either. And there are a couple of experimental treatments that I may qualify for down the road.
So we spent a lot of time discussing the cause of my current side effects and how to manage them. I received a new prescription that may help. And my old stand-by, Nexium, will be used more.
While I was quite surprised by this news, based upon how lousy I’ve been feeling lately, there was little time for celebration. The news came just after 4 p.m., and our flight home was at 6:55.
We took a taxi to the airport, ate a quick bite, flew to OKC, and arrived back in Norman by 8:30.
Ahhh, home sweet home.
