On the Monday after Thanksgiving, Jo and I flew to the NIH in Bethesda, MD where some of the best doctors in the world perform government-sponsored research. There we met with Dr. Sloand, a tiny little lady with a big punch.
Dr. Sloand wanted to take her own sample of Jo’s bone marrow. She brought both of us back to a little room with two nurses who really didn’t want to look us in the eye. Jo got up on the table and rolled over onto her side. Dr. Sloand put a little numbing medication on her hip and then pulled out the biggest needle I have ever seen in my life. She proceeded to push the needle through Jo’s hipbone so that she could get a marrow sample. I still am not exactly sure why they didn’t have me wait in the lobby.
As I said, Dr. Sloan is not a very big woman, but she knew a lot about leverage. She had one foot up against the wall and she was really leaning into that needle. I always knew that Jo had an incredibly high pain threshold and I have never seen her whine or complain, but at that moment, my respect for her went to a whole new level!
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Dr. Sloand and one other doctor about Aplastic Anemia and Bone Marrow Transplants. They both spoke about everything in a very “matter of fact” way. In a way, it was actually very calming. They told us that almost everybody in the waiting room was recovering from Aplastic Anemia. None of them looked all too bad.
Dr. Sloand gave us a ton of great information, but then she sent us home. She said that nothing could be done until the pregnancy was over. She told Jo that she could stop taking the steroids and other medications since they wouldn’t help.
The next day things got a little more interesting than we had expected. We got back to the airport in D.C. and checked in for our flight to Denver. As we came up on the security checkpoint, I lost track of Jo. I quickly looked around for her and I saw her back at the entrance to the security line, holding on to a post, looking like she was going to faint. I went over to her and put my arms around her and she immediately collapsed. I’m normally a pretty calm and stable guy, but as I started looking around for help, it seemed like every single person in an airport uniform just happened to be looking the other direction. I remember this being one of the scariest moments of my entire life.
I got Jo to her knees and she collapsed again. I got her to the ground and put her head on her travel pillow. She was out cold! By then the airport personnel were swarming and calling for the paramedics. By the time the paramedics got to us, Jo was already feeling a little better. They checked her over for about 15 minutes, had us sign a release, got us a wheelchair and sent us on our way. The airport people were nice enough to put Jo up in first class with a nice meal and by the time we got home she felt much better.
We learned a valuable lesson in D.C. – you must ease yourself off steroids or you’ll end up on the airport floor wondering where you are and how you got there.
Over the next several months, we settled into a routine. Jo got her blood checked twice weekly and received platelet and red blood cell transfusions every 10 days or so. The primary concern was that if her counts got too low, the baby may not get enough oxygen to develop normally or Jo would possibly start bleeding internally.
Back in Denver, Jo continued to teach dance lessons and other than lots of doctor appointments, we tried to live our lives as normal as possible. All things considered, the pregnancy was about as easy as it gets. Jo never had a single day of morning sickness and I never got sent on any midnight runs for ice cream or KFC. Jo did mention that at one point she had Jamba Juice 5 days in a row, but I don’t think that qualifies as a craving. Who wouldn’t want Jamba Juice 5 days in a row?
