A Christmas ramble

Merry Christmas!

I'm scrambling to get this post written before everyone wakes up and we descend into the Christmas crazy. Bear in mind that we have big kids who are on break and in full sleep-in-after-staying-up-late mode. In my head, I already hear The Princess Bride's Prince Humperdinck musing, "...it ranged all over..." so I'll try to channel Mr. Woods, my 10th grade English teacher who used green felt tip markers to scrawl TWE on our papers- To What End? As in, "get to the point already!"

Everybody have their coffee or hot drink of choice? Some Christmas cookies? It is CHRISTMAS- don't worry about the calories, for goodness sake. Enjoy them!

(Mr. Woods sighs.)

Let's do this. 

Story time!

Once upon a time, there was a girl who worked at a summer camp. It's no longer there, sadly, but that's another story to be found here. She met a boy and life happened; they got married, moved a lot, got a kitten, had kids, got a dog, the whole shebang. (Mr. Woods rolls his eyes and reaches for the pen.)

This is the girl, who because of her erect posture and the faux feather in her hair, reminded her friends of the kidnapped princess in Peter Pan, and thus earned her the handle of Tigerlily at the aforementioned camp. 

One Christmas Eve, a long time later, the girl felt discouraged and not very festive. In fact, said girl cried a little while doing the dishes before her shower before the Christmas Eve service. (Mr. Woods uses his green pen.) She felt frustrated with her children who wanted to play video games instead of going to the Christmas Eve service and was astounded that they didn't see it as a given that they were going. She reminisced about a time when she and her mother had walked the handful of city blocks home from church on a below freezing Christmas Eve and how the stars had been so bright, and wonders if her mother remembers that, too. Generally feeling sorry for herself and ready at any moment to blame her tears on getting dishsoap in her eyes, she remembered something important which had been passed along to her and others at camp. 
"Satan tends to attack people and places of strategic importance."

These words had been spoken by a boss whose handle had been Spiritual Giant. His profession was teaching; he was and remains a true leader, caring about each person under him as well as those under them. 

(Mr. Woods pauses, then decides to allow it to see where it leads, but scribbles another TWE?)

Some of you may be musing, "who does she think she is?"

Slight pivot.

Last night, the girl also watched "It's a Wonderful Life," knowing full well that it's imperfect and dated and cheezy at times but wanted the nostaglia of an old movie she'd watched with her Nana. (Here's the link in case you want to investigate further: it'll open a new window.)

In the movie, Clarence muses, "Each man's life touches so many other lives..."

I've talked to more than one person this week who has felt depleted, that hard things kept happening to them, and that they were exhausted, and I keep coming back to that nugget of wisdom the girl heard decades ago. 

If you are a church worker, most especially in the season leading up to today, it makes complete sense to me that an enemy would try to keep you discouraged, make you feel like your work didn't matter, that it's only for an hour and everyone will go back to their "real" lives and forget what you taught or sang or how you loved, so why bother? 

Don't give up. Do it anyway.

For the parents whose kid would rather play with the box than the gift you finally found for them, for the health care workers who have yet another patient come in with something avoidable, for the way the world keeps turning and you have to keep dealing with all of it when you just feel like you can't do one more day/thing/event/minute because you've suffered a loss or a diagnosis or _____ and are barely hanging by a thread... 

Breathe. Call someone in your village. Don't get isolated. Don't get picked off one at a time. 

George Bailey experiences the... Clarence calls it a gift, I think, but I'm not sure that's quite the correct word. He experiences the  (whatever) of seeing what life would have been like without him in it. 

Eventually, we will all leave this life, and our loved ones will have to navigate around the land mine that our passing leaves in their own lives. That's not the same as you never having been here. That can be worse, at least to start, because of the (there are no words in Entish, Elvish or the tongues of men for the all encompassing emotions) that loss is. Grief doesn't play fair. It sucker punches. 

So, to answer the "who does she think she is?" 

(Mr. Woods scrawls TWE in huge letters.)

Just me. In fact, back in the day when I'd call my high school boyfriend's house, his Dad would answer and I'd say, "it's just me." He'd laugh and crow, "HIIIIIII Just!" 

I'm just me. You're just you. We can only each be just ourselves. 

But we're priceless, one of a kind, each a masterpiece.

If you feel like you're under attack, you probably are. Because no matter how you FEEL, you matter to someone. Make it a capital S if you want to- you also matter to Someone. That baby in the manger is for you. And me. And him and her and them and they and those. 

(Mr. Woods just yeet his green pen in annoyance and sloped off to get a warm up for his coffee cup. Maybe coffee doesn't get cold in the afterlife. I guess we'll all find out.)

And if you've figured out you are under attack, don't just stay there. Call for reinforcements! That can look all kinds of different. Sometimes just getting out of your house can make a difference, even if it's frigid, yes, even with a baby. Hearing the voice of a friend instead of the usual texts. Using the "good" dishes. Wearing the fancy clothes. We are quick to splurge on others in this season, but you are hereby allowed to splurge on yourself, whoever was waiting around for permission. It can be little things, but YOU are special, you are worth it, you need to take care of yourself so you can continue loving on/serving/standing in the gap for those around you. We need you. 

We are heading into the "long dark of Moria" winter, but be of good cheer- the days are already getting longer and the light will be returning. Breathe deep, my friends; you are loved, a New Year is coming, and Christmas is here! 

Despite life's hiccups, and because of them, they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

 

I'm still kickin'

 Hiya and happy almost holidays! The title is something my Nana used to say when asked how she was doing. I felt it was fitting to sum up how I'm functioning these days.

For those of you who are panicking because you're not ready, take a deep breath and know that we are right there with you. For those of you who keep getting more things tossed at you in this game called life, take another breath and be still a moment. You're allowed. There is hard stuff happening, and you, too, are not alone. For those of you experiencing a very Blue Christmas, big hugs from us, and more deep breaths, and just do what you can. And if you can't, that is okay, too. Just be. Just breathe. Please know you're loved.

I had the last of the AC part of chemo on Tuesday last week and you guys must have been praying hard, because I was expecting next-door-to-end-of-the-world awfulness but experienced next-door-to-exhaustion instead. Thank you! The nausea has not been fun, but it has been manageable, and I'm still taking as many naps as possible, which helps. The brain fog is real; I've caught myself making out multiple Christmas cards to the same person, so if you end up with three or end up with none- it's my fault either way. Sorry. Next year will be better. Doing a lot of facepalming over here. But, as my Nana said, "I'm doin'."

The next step will be weekly infusions of Taxol for all of the next three months. Supposedly that will be easier on my system and my doc thinks I will handle that well. The new wrinkle will be hands and feet neuropathy, which I'm a bit nervous about as I've been fortunate to never have to deal with that yet... guess we'll see how it goes. Doc said if it's terrible they can dial back the dose of Taxol, but I want this round of cancer to be the last ever round of cancer so I kinda don't want to inhibit any of the meds... no sense stressing over it. It'll be what it'll be. We will figure it out. 

Since that doesn't start until January, I have the rest of this month to recover, gain weight I mean "enjoy Christmas goodies", attempt to finish my cards before Christmas, get my far and wide ranging ducks back in a row, take the boys to the dentist for their appointment, enjoy time with loved ones, hopefully bake some and take more naps. I am very much enjoying not waiting at the bus stop while the temps are in the teens, but I'm sure there will be plenty of that in 2025. 

Don't exhaust yourselves this season chasing down the Stuff or trying to do All The Things. Make the time for the people and activities that fill your spirit back up, and know that you're loved more than you realize. Be good to yourself! You are worth it!

Drink water and wash your hands. The germs are legion!

Wedding photos

 We had the privilege of attending Dada's cousin's daughter's wedding last weekend and we thrilled to cheer on the lovely couple. Thankfully the weather cooperated, we had dry roads both coming and going, and sunshine during the day with moonlight on the return trip. I'm so glad it was before chemo so I could make the trip and enjoy the time together!

So great to spend time with family and support the young couple. We love all of you guys!

Holiday concert

 Thing Three performed in his holiday concert last week. He was tickled because they got to wear their fancy dress uniforms- we had never seen them before. So snazzy!  He cleans up pretty good, like his Dada. They sounded terrific and even had the Grinch as a guest conductor. Always a highlight to our holiday season. 

He is also delighted to have finally (in his eyes) hit his growth spurt. I keep falling behind in buying pants; by the time I get what looks like the right size, he's in them for two weeks and then they're high water pants already. Haven't had this problem with him for awhile, but I think it's going to be ongoing for quite some time, haha!

Check in

 Just checking in. How's everybody doing in the relentless lead up to Christmas? Those of you missing loved ones due to distance or the afterlife, are you doing okay? Text if you need to talk. I'm here. Church workers, do you have the support you need? We appreciate all you're doing to get ready for Christmas; thank you. Teachers, you hanging in there? I've been hearing varying descriptions of the classroom craziness and am praying for all of you heroes, haha! You can do it. Just a few more days. Keep breathing!

Another reason to celebrate: I am officially done with my Red Devil side of chemo! My doc said all my blood cell numbers were good to go, told me I looked wonderful, asked if I was up for it, and I declared, "let's get it over with!" I had a good day with my Zita- thanks, babe! Hooray for another thing crossed off the list. Whew! It has been a YEAR of ridiculousness, no doubt. And as for 2025...

My next appointment will be in January when my Taxol treatments kick off. Doc claims that one will be easier all around though I should expect neuropathy in my hands and feet for a few days after each treatment. Always some new wrinkle to add to the learning curve. We'll see how that goes. Right now, I'll just be over here pumping myself full of water and salad to keep things flushing out and moving along and doing small things as I can accomplish them. Looking forward to Thing Three's holiday concert, I have a visit with my plastics doc and PT this week, and otherwise it's real life and Christmas prep. 

Hang in there, everybody. Be safe, stay off the egg nog, sneak a cookie when nobody's looking, and take care of yourselves, not just everyone else. You're allowed naps. You're allowed coffee with a friend out of the house. You're allowed to decorate the tree with every ornament you own or just leave it lights only if that makes you happy! Go for a walk if the temps and the ice aren't intimidating. Play the Christmas carols or blast you own favorites. Have a bubble bath- when was the last time you had one? The only thing in our tub is spiders... it is sadly neglected and I may need to have a date with it after evicting the small predators since NOT all drains lead to the ocean...

My point is, the year is rapidly drawing to a close. I know you parents with kids at home are overwhelmed and everyone is counting down the days for school to be done for awhile. Wash those hands and eat real food and remember to hydrate. Breathe. You are all so loved. Enjoy your holidays the best that you can and don't stress about perfection. Be merry and bright! xoxoxxo

3700

 No, that's not an amount for a bill for any of my surgeries or chemo or insurance for driving Ori onto rocks, though good guesses all. That's the number of posts on this blog! Can you even believe it? It's like I have something to say... or something. Who'd have thought? (Nana, in the afterlife, is chuckling to herself and snarking, "anybody who ever met you! Are you kidding? All those times I had to separate you from Tammy at nap time because you wouldn't stop talking?!" Yes, well, there is that.

I'm sort of just checking in. I miraculously have zero doctors' appointments this week and am on the upswing after mostly a week of chemo crumminess. To say I'm not looking forward to next week's treatment is an understatement of epic proportions. However, it IS nice to know that I will sort of be feeling myself come Christmas, AND the AC part of chemo will be over with. Hooray! Merry Christmas to ME! As they used to say in karate, "LAST ONE, BEST ONE" though I'm not sure that quite applies here as the results are cumulative and I felt like... well, to quote our youngest, "dogwater" would be pretty applicable. I'm not sure if he means dog pee or the scum in their drinking water from their backwash because I'm afraid to ask, but either way, yeah, that kinda fits. To have the inside of your mouth feel sandblasted, to have the chemical roiling of your stomach, to feel like you've been dragged through solidifying cement with the accompanying pounding of your heart when all you've done is climb up a single set of stairs... I'd say dogwater fits. 

Yes, I am taking my anti nausea meds, though I could take more of them, though they come with their own side effects and I'd rather limit all that nonsense. Yes, I'm climbing back into bed (YAY, BED!) at every opportunity. I'm even feeling less guilty about it because my brain knows healing is hard work even though my spirit wants to Go Do Stuff. My Lisa says, "go back to bed for all of us who can't!" I figure I'm taking one for the team. Teehee. I should be drinking more, so if you talk to me, ask where I am water-wise and tell me to go take some sips. *Reaches for her glass of water whilst rolling her eyes* 

No, our Christmas tree isn't up yet, but our wreaths are, so that's progress. At this rate, once we get it up it might have to stick around until my birthday. Those of you who know us are asking, "how is that different from any other year?" Hush, you. 

For those of you asking about meals for us, bless your sweet hearts. As I was telling my friend the other day, food is tricky right now, though this week should be better. Dada is still doing no carbs, the kids are pretty much all carbs, and I am absolutely all over the map like a pregnant woman. I will have a sliced baby cucumber. Then an hour later maybe cheese and crackers. Then another hour after that perhaps a little bit of meat or some peanut butter toast. Last night I was eating single Cheerios out of the box, one after another, while I watched TV. For lunch, I plan to devour an entire head of butter lettuce* with veggies and cheese and croutons (Thing Three is at school so I'll only have to fend off Thing Two since Thing One doesn't emerge for awhile yet) and maybe a can of tuna on it and it is going to be DELICIOUS and then my mouth won't feel like I've licked a salty camel straight from the Sahara. 

*In a text from Dada, that came out "butthead" lettuce so we will be henceforth calling it that.

All in all, and my doc is in agreement with this, I'm doing well. It doesn't always FEEL like that, but as I'm also not praying to the porcelain god, I'll take it. I may look like a drunken sailor on land who is using the wall with one hand to stay stable, but I'm still moving, thank you, Jesus. Today I'm actually on my second load of laundry**, have swept the kitchen floor, made phone calls which I despise (who's with me- where are my "I'd rather die than talk on the phone" peeps?), renewed Pepe's license plate, got some mail ready to go out, and some other stuff. I'm hogging 2/3 of the couch with paperwork and have displaced Thing Two completely. I have a pile of Stuff on the floor in the Old Lady Room that I need to deal with, but we are getting there.

** The second load is dog towels and blankets. Miss Honey, who will be at least 10ish years old this week, relieved herself on the hall rug before Thanksgiving and we didn't have time to deal with it other than baking soda and vacuum it before we travelled, so we lugged it outside where the weather could rain and snow on it to it's heart's delight. We brought it in a few days ago, still smelling of baking soda. The Idiot Bos decided to lick it in a bunch of places last evening while we were having dinner, then proceeded to barf on a different rug when his stomach realized it couldn't digest dog hair, dirt, and baking soda. Hence the load of towels. How he can manage to NOT throw up rat poison when he needs to but CAN vomit other stuff remains a mystery. Dumber than a box of rocks. Seriously. That's insulting to rocks. He's no smarter now than he was when we got him 7.5 years ago. Somebody save us. I am never picking out a dog again. And if Honey doesn't quit pooping on the deck, I am going to ask Santa not FOR a dog, but to kindly take both of ours!

So I'm off to make my salad. Have a wonderful hump day!

Rocks defeat cars as well as scissors

 Grab a Christmas cookie and a hot drink. This'll be lengthy. 

See that tiny bruise on my palm? That is because all y'all pray for me, especially during this chemo season. 

That tiny bruise is the only mark I have on me after my adventure to chemo #3 yesterday. Settle in and I'll tell you a tale of a damsel in distress and the heroic knights who stepped in to help her.

Yesterday morning, surprise snow started before bus time. It was pretty and swirly and Thing Three and I enjoyed watching the flakes dance in the headlights of oncoming vehicles on our road as we waited for his bus. We laughed at the swirls of them after the cars passed. 

Apparently it took everyone by surprise as no warnings had been given or salt trucks or plows or anything. Dada went into the office and texted back that the back roads were covered and to be careful if I went down any back roads to chemo.

Aye aye, cap'n.

So I took the interstate, saw at least two vehicles in the median, an ambulance coming on the oncoming side, passed a salt truck, all was well. The exit ramp was ... okay. The main drag was fine albiet still under construction. The only back road I took had another vehicle in front of me and HE managed the turn just fine. 

Ori had other ideas. 

Apparently I complain often about not being able to parallel park, because he took it upon himself to skid straight across the road and park (Thing One said "that's not parking- that's camping") in the landscaping on the opposite side despite the driving expert in my brain hollering, "don't mash the brakes; pump them!" I yelled back, "I AM pumping them and have been!" Then he hollered, "don't yank the wheel; steer into it!" I yelled back, "I'm TRYING!"

Too late. Into the decorative tall grasses and large rocks we went. 

*Insert cloud of piratey talk here. Loud. Repetitive. Think Napoleon at the bowling alley in "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" when he gets a gutter ball, only my swearing was not eloquent French but repetitive cursing in my native language. I even threw in one of the words I feel Henry Cavill's Witcher says well, though my favorite is when John Malkovich says it. Moving on.*

It's not in any of the pictures, but believe it or not, these homeowners also have a big pond a little further beyond the rocks I hit. I doubt I'd have ever made it that far, but it's another aspect to be grateful for because being wet and cold would have been ever so much worse.

Bah. Rocks win every time.

I immediately call chemo to tell them I'll be late- alas, I was put on hold so another cloud of piratey talk ensued while I listened with the other ear for the woman to come back on the phone. I told her the basics and that I'd call back when I knew more. 

I called 911, my first ever experience, so there you go, Sharon- I live a sheltered life. The dispatcher informed me someone would be there right away and sure enough, within minutes an extrememly pleasant officer from the Sheriff's office pulls up and gets the ball rolling with the paperwork. Within a few more minutes, a tow truck shows up and another cheerful fellow hops out to take the situation in hand, me apologizing, him tut tutting that it's no problem, that he's seen so much worse.

I had already told the officer that I was headed to chemo and asked him dejectedly if he would be so kind as to take me there. Since I could have walked, though it would have taken awhile, and I think because he was pleased I'd be getting medical attention anyway, he said sure and had me bundle all the things I had to rescue from the car into the back seat of his cruiser.

Y'all, I've also never been in a police car before. He told me I got to sit up front. He EVEN asked if I wanted the lights and siren when we pulled up to chemo. 🙈 When I told some of the nurses that, they were all giggles and said they'd have said yes, but I was worried someone inside would think there was an emergency in an area with medically fragile people and opted a polite no, thank you. 

PLUS, and from a purely selfish and wanting to save any shred of dignity I had left standpoint, THANK GOODNESS we had mostly emptied the car out from our Thanksgiving trip because as it was, I was taking my purse and a backpack to chemo so I could work on Christmas cards and read and stuff, but I also had bags of boxes I was planning to mail. AND a skateboard from the trunk that belongs to the firstborn as well as a speaker and CDs and whatever else I thought shouldn't be sitting around in a towed domain. 

I looked at the officer and said, "do you think I'm the only person to head into chemo with a skateboard?" He chuckled at me. Such a good sport. 

Bye Ori. I'm so sorry. Goodness.

I am SO GLAD that it happened to me and not any of our family's young drivers. I am so thankful that nobody was coming the other way and that I didn't hurt anybody. I'm so glad I was already slowed, knowing it is a rough right turn. I'm glad I was as close as I was to chemo, that the tow truck could pull it out fairly easily. You guys, I KNOW that is all because of your prayers. Thank you. Clearly they are working! The nurses laughed at how good my blood pressure was despite the morning I'd already had. Nurses I've only had once before kept popping in to say, "Val! What in the world!? Are you okay? Oh my goodness!" Definitely the best team. I'm in such good hands. They even asked if I had a ride home- I did, the lovely Zita- and the nurses were hoping to get out of work early to get me home, haha!

My doc laughed and shook her head at me after she hugged me. She looked at all the stuff I'd lugged in and laughed again, calling for a wheelchair not for me but for ease of moving all that stuff to another room for chemo. She said, "in all my years of medicine, I've never had anyone stick googly eyes on their chemo, and I've never seen anyone bring a skateboard in the winter." I asked her how in the world I'm supposed to top it next time I go in. Grinning at me, she informed me all my blood cell numbers are perfect and everything looks great and that I'm tolerating all of this really, really well. 

Some of you are probably wondering if my port worked this time. Yes and no. My nurse, I'll call her J, whom I haven't seen since 6 years ago and was delighted to catch up with, asked how things were going (other than the accident) and I told her last week when I was in that it wouldn't draw blood. She started it, said, "hooray, we got it- oh no" and then we went through the "take a deeeeep, slow breath" and "okay, let's try arms up" and "let's lay you down because it might be positional" and finally, "okay, let me order some cath- [something or other but my brain changed it to cath-pow like Abby's CAFF-POW on NCIS] which eventually worked and they got blood out but the lab came again and my left elbow sacrificed to another jab. The lab lady, different from last week, was also excellent and nailed it first try. Apparently I'm staying well hydrated. 

Chemo went uneventfully, thank goodness, and I got some Christmas cards done and spoke with an insurance gal who was in Arizona, the lucky duck, but was from Missouri so knew about snow and ice and she felt sorry for me and I made her laugh when I told her the story, so all is in the works and I had a day of amazing people all around. 

Thing One said, "hmm, maybe we should have people pray for whatever vehicle you're taking, too. There was a loophole in there somewhere. God was scanning, 'Val, Val, Val, Val, chemo, Val, nope, nothing about the car, we're good!' ... my baby!!!!!" Poor thing. It's the same car the huge oak limb fell on and we'd gotten the entire roof and windshield replaced. Guess it was my turn to take out the bottom. I have no idea how much damage I did to the undercarriage and it's a 2007 so we shall see what insurance says. Man.

So I hope you enjoyed your cookie and hot drink and a story to make you laugh. I'm fine, all is well, 2024 has not been my year but that's okay, nobody was hurt except our poor, faithful Ori who clearly, despite what he thinks, does NOT know how to parallel park any better than I do!

Be safe out there, people. Tis the season for GERMS and scary road situations. And clean out your vehicle. 😉

Seriously, thank you all for the prayers. I know they make a difference. My doc told me she would have understood if I'd cancelled but was thrilled that I came despite everything so we could stay on schedule. The facts that the tiny bruise was the only physical mark on me, that my blood pressure was great, that I didn't cry when the authorities showed up... all of that points to His faithfulness to me because of your interventions. Please don't doubt that prayer works. I'm living, breathing proof!

Fluid fugazi and Fireballs

 My oncologist let me delay my third chemo so that I could fully enjoy Thanksgiving. Enjoy it I did! I delighted in everything tasting the way it should. You know that line from "Into The Woods" about "and there was far too much food..."- well, that was surely us. And a lot of America, I bet!

Last week I went in for pre-travel fluids so I'd be well hydrated and plumped up, I guess, haha. On the drive there, I figured, "everything's still tasting right and I don't have any mouth sores yet... let's try a Fireball!" Imagine my delight when I didn't breathe fire and enjoyed my candy while driving! Wahoooooo!

Upon arrival, the nurse was cheerful and we were discussing Thanksgiving plans with family before she grumbled about my port being a stinker. Apparently sometimes fluids can go IN but drawing blood OUT doesn't work, and since both parts of that are important, she had to call someone from the lab to come stick my arm instead. No big, and apparently I was hydrated enough that she got it on the first try, mercifully (especially as I hadn't been thinking about drinking, assuming they'd access my port)! However, I wasn't super thrilled. The entire point of a port is to save my arm veins- no touchie! Grrr!

An option she gave was to administer a blood thinner and then she would check the port every half hour for up to two hours to see if the blood thinner was doing its job. Or we could skip it and just have the lab do it. I went for the second option as I've never had blood thinners and have no idea what they'd do to me, especially right before heading out of town for the holiday. Not It, thanks.

So if all y'all are still praying, please mention that all involved parties would love for the port to do it's darn job (both parts) from here on out. Thanks!

Going, going…

 Not quite gone, but it’s getting there. To those of you who’ve heard me comment that I look like a lightbulb that’s trying to grow hair… see for yourself! I look like a Minion!

Happy 45th birthday smiles to Hinrew! We love you bunches and are sending you big hugs and smooches.

Two months out, my scar looks fantastic. Every doc who has seen it says it’s healing really well. I have to admit that it looks way better than I was expecting it to. I’m thankful. 

Skellie Shenanigans

 Thing Two had his annual checkup with Dr. Jon, the amazing pediatrician we've had for 19 years now. He is a great sport, so we figured he'd get a kick out of some Shenanigans. Cadaver made an appearance to the absolute delight of the nurses and we waited to see if Dr. Jon could pick out the real Thing Two...

We got a few looks in the waiting room...

Dr. Jon took it in stride and said we should have Cadaver get on the scale to see which one of them actually weighed the most. As usual, he cautioned Thing Two about the potential detriment he might face if he gets a bad illness as he has zero body fat and no padding to draw from if he loses weight from being sick. Otherwise he was pleased with the visit and said his heart and lungs and all that jazz sounded great and that it's fun to hear all of it through very little extra padding, haha! 

He showed us the BMI chart, on which Thing Two doesn't even register. He said that the chart makers weren't going to make an extra low line just for him. He said he's still growing though it's slow and steady and he had gained a little in height and weight both since his last check. Overall, he was pleased to see us, Cadaver and all, and Thing Two got his flu shot. 

And we gave my Dad a roommate 😀:

Chemo #2, check!

 Okay gang, I'm officially halfway done with the AC part of chemo. Two down, two more to go. This time I get a three week break before my next one so that I may feel like myself and enjoy my favorite holiday with some of my favorite peeps! Yippie! 

Dad got to go with me yesterday and kept me company through all the sitting around. I reminded my nurse about "a slow steroid, please" and she said, "oh, no worries, I ALWAYS do that one over a 10 minute span- I don't push it!" There were no issues, no turning tomato red, no weird tingles, nothing. I felt like my heart was beating just a little fast during my bag of Pepcid, which I don't remember happening before, but it could just be the massive chemical dump that was happening and it didn't last long sooooo...

My doc was thrilled with both my bloodwork numbers and my range of motion. It's so nice to have a cheerleader like her. I don't know what parts per million or whatever the units are supposed to be, but my white blood cells were 9.9, hemoglobin is supposed to be at least 10 and mine's 12.3, and platelets are to be over 100 and mine were 167, so she was actually cheering when she read those. I guess those are the magic 3 that they keep a close eye on. 

We talked again about radiation and I told her we have our second opinion consult tomorrow morning. She said her very strong vote was for proton therapy. It'll be interesting to see what Dr. P recommends tomorrow.

We also discussed having my lady parts- ovaries, tubes, and uterus- out in the future, but it's not an immediate thing. At this point, I told her I feel like a Mrs. Potato Head just ditching pieces left and right. "Well, don't need THOSE anymore and who needs hair and I don't need THAt and..." My Dad and my doc both cracked up, but it's the best mental image I can summon up to describe my poor old bod at this point! 😄 As if to drive the point home, my period started today and I find myself musing about the absolute indignities of cancer treatment and planning and all of it:

- mosquitoes who bite me don't even have the decency to die thanks to the chemicals in me which I find absolutely unfair.

- I have no body parts capable of feeding an infant yet my ovaries and uterus care not, apparently, and just keep chugging along though that ship has not only sailed but has been used as a funeral pyre, lit on fire, and sunk. Yet here we are. 

- I got to discuss my bowels and my periods in front of my father, poor thing.

All of it is weird. But I have the best team, the best tribe, a big God and far too much food and I am hanging in there! 

AND happy birthday to my precious Mommeeeeeee today! We all send birthday hugs home with Dad. Miss you and love you bunches! 

Happy hump day, everybody. Take good care of you!

All I need now is a torpedo

 The radiation consult went... well? Hard to say when we still have so many questions. I need to set up a second opinion/pick your brain session with my local doc here who did my photon radiation the first time around. 

I was impressed with both the research student and Dr J. They were upfront about there being very little longitudinal data because proton therapy, which they are recommending, is a newer technique. They've been doing it for awhile at their location but just opened it up a few months ago to breast cancer patients, so I'd be part of something... new? Fresh? Exciting? Terrifying? 

"All of it, Frank." (That's from "Father Goose", another childhood favorite which stars Cary Grant and Leslie Caron and comes highly recommended! We use a TON of the lines from that one on a regular basis.)

As my charming husband likes to remind me on every possible occasion, I was four chapters behind in my college physics class my freshman year when he visited. Therefore, I'm probably not the ideal person to spell this out, but if I have the general gist of the science, then photon therapy (that I had the first time) is essentially the same dose over designated area. I had 33 sessions, once per day, of that over several weeks. 

I claim ZERO understanding as to how a photon torpedo works, which is what I keep hearing in my head thanks to years of my mother watching "Star Trek"...

Proton therapy, I guess, targets more specifically and then the energy drops off more quickly, in theory sparing some damage. That's a good thing because what is under where they're targeting? Oh you know, my heart and my lungs. No big. 😏Again, I THINK I have that right. They can focus it like a mountain versus a plateau. Yeah, let's go with that. All I need to do now is write "Radiation for Dummies", hehe.

Dr. J recommends the proton therapy this time over photon therapy and that would be twice a day with at least a six hour window between sessions because in that window healthy cells can repair themselves but cancer cells can't. I think that is fascinating! How cool is that? Because it would be twice a day, I'd be done in about 3 work weeks. 

"But I thought... but we'd been told multiple times that you can't re-radiate an area that had already been radiated. Won't that damage the bypass surgery that I just had? Will insurance cover any of this? Why is one better than the other? Would either work? Why do you recommend one over the other? What SHOULD we be asking that we don't know to ask? Argh, why isn't there statistical data yet?" 

Those questions and more swirled around the room as we chatted. Dr. J seemed very knowledgeable and earnest and asked great questions. It sounds like he was on the tumor board so he's already heard of and talked over my case. As always, I marveled at how I felt seen as myself and not simply a patient number on a file somewhere. Truly these medical professionals have callings and not just occupations. I'm so thankful for their passion as well as their compassion. I also appreciated his earnestness. 

I'll keep you posted but that's really all I know right now. No studies to really compare, so until I talk with my local rads doc, we'll just bounce that beach ball of photon versus proton around... *doink doink doink*

Halloween birthday boy

Somehow I didn't get a photo of Thing Two in Halloween garb, but as he was head to toe black as the Angel of Death, I trust you can use your imagination to envision this:

He loped to an open garage to collect a treat and was accosted by what he called "a tiny princess- she was about thigh high" who asked him, "are you a real pirate?"

He rumbled, "oh yeah."

I did have these photos with "his" yellow tree. He is affectionately known locally as "Yellowjacket." I wanted to get one of him in his robe as it creeps ever higher and shorter on him, but we've had some frosts and now those lovely yellow leaves are a sad brown, not the "happy crispy brown leaf" as our friend Sharon coined. 

The rest of us. My wig was trying to bisect my brain, which I suppose was a good thing as it was rainy with a wind advisory, but it reignited my "I have zero desire to wear a wig when I'm bald" mantra...

Thing Three loves over the top costumes and has already devoured the vast majority of his haul. Good thing we put off him getting braces until the New Year.

And the amazing artistry of Thing One:

Hope you all had a Halloween and are not finding candy wrappers behind your couch or in other suspicious locations!

 

Fall beauty to nourish your stressed out soul

 

I can't be the only person who is stressed out over the election today, so I figured I'd share the absolutely gorgeous Ohio morning I experienced today. As always, you can click on the photos to enlarge them. Enjoy! And vote!

Smoke detector reminder and other stories

 I am a little alarmed at how early the chemo side effects have set in. I worked on that previous post twice and still forgot to relay the funny story. *sigh* Bear with me, folks.

One of the 4 anti nausea drugs in the premedication umbrella-

-which makes me laugh because the wording is funny. I only get two chemo meds. I have four anti nausea meds. And they're called the "premedication" part? Hahaha! I am definitely living yet again the courtroom scene from "What's Up, Doc?" where the Judge is lamenting his drug dependence. If you haven't seen it, go track it down. Here's the specific snippet I mean but the whole thing bears seeing.-

-is apparently a steroid. The first med is a quick push one and went into my port just fine in a matter of less than a minute. The second one, the steroid, made me feel burny and tingly in places that I knew I didn't have a UTI so I assumed it was from whatever drip I was getting and that it was temporary. However, then I started to feel flushed and began to see tiny sparkles. My Doc was talking to me, my Lisa was there, there was also a pharmaceutical student present, so I interrupted to announce, "Um, I'm starting to see sparkles and it feels like I'm breathing through a straw...?" They all looked closer at me and the Doc says, "oh yep, turn that medication off and get a nurse." The meds get shut off, I feel the heat start to drain back out of my face, and the arriving nurses reassure me that I just got that steroid too fast, it's already in, all will be well. Note into chart about a slower steroid. Got it. Okiedokie. Whew, hot flash. My Doc uses it as a teachable moment and points out how my color is already better, asks if I'm also experiencing burning and tingling, and yes indeed, it was a reaction to receiving a steroid. 

"Have you ever had a steroid before?"

"Umm, I don't think I have, actually!"

She assured me that oral ones for, say, poison ivy or some such would still be fine, and reiterated that this one was just pushed too quickly for me, but my body has since caught up and all is well. Moving on...

Everything else was fine, no surprises other than I expected a hanging bag of Red Devil and it turned out to be in a syringe that the lovely nurse has to physically sit there and push over a few minutes, which lessened the impact of the googly eyes since we were the only ones who could see them, haha, but oh well. 

However, try explaining later to your husband about a steroid reaction and then have him turn to your bestie questioningly and have her answer, "she was redder than her sweater." Poor love of my life. But now we know. AND I was right about the burny and tingly feeling dissipating right away.

So Daddeeeeee, when you're up next time, we will ask for a slow steroid. No worries! I got you!

That was all on Monday. Some of those anti nausea meds last for 72 hours so the next few days I felt... chemically... I guess is the best way to put it. Not truly nauseous even when they wore off but felt like I could be, so I took some of the prescription they'd sent me home with, heeding Dada's advice to "not be a hero" and Lisa's advice to "stay ahead of it."  I'm eating a ridiculous amount of small meals and can absolutely see why the Doc cautioned that these particular chemo meds can make people gain weight: it feels better to have something in my stomach. She also warned that chemo weight is harder to lose than regular, but finished with "but I'm not worried about you because you're active and you'll be okay." I devilishly mentioned that the holidays were in between now and when I'll be finished so who would ever know if it was the chemo or the yummy foods? Hehehehe. I'm again struck by how similar chemo is to pregnancy: nausea, brain fog, weight fluctuation, craving something but not having any idea what, laying down to close your eyes and awakening hours later.

Thank you to my school friends for the ginger chews and to my friends who've sent candies and to my hubby who found me coconut bites. Y'all rock, as usual!

Yesterday, four days after chemo, I woke up and felt like my brain was actually clearer and more myself. I still feel that way today and haven't taken any meds other than my usual allergy pill, multivitamin, and calcium with vitamin D. I've had my breakfast and am cautiously optimistic for a nice weekend. My Doc said to keep track of what I felt when so we can determine "my pattern" and predict what I'll need and when. 

Next week I'm scheduled for a bag of fluids and a blood draw, both through the port so no worries, and my radiation consult. I have extremely mixed feelings about all this radiation business. I've heard from several sources that you can't re-radiate the same area, so why the tumor board wants me to have a consult about it boggles me. Plus, they mentioned I could be a candidate for proton therapy, but when I look that up it says it targets a tumor, which I no longer HAVE, so again, I'm stymied. Guess that's why I gotta talk to the experts. I asked my Doc about it during chemo and she set me straight: don't dismiss it out of hand. We want to throw everything at this, so go see what they say. 

Yes, ma'am. 

As far as the whole armpit area/ bypass surgery part is going, it's been 6.5 weeks since surgery and range of motion is definitely improving. I'll get some pictures up at some point, but things are looking decent-ish. I'll never win any Sex Goddess Body awards but since I was never aiming for that anyway, no big loss. I'd rather have ice cream! 

Moving is definitely better for me than sitting, and sleeping is wonderful. Enjoy that extra hour this weekend and do NOT feel guilty if you use it for sleeping! I'm waving my wand over here and giving you permission to use it however it will most bless your life. *swish swish* Don't forget to check your smoke detectors and have a wonderful weekend, everyone!