A Dozen Down...

..a baker's dozen to go.

Treatment 12 was uneventful. We're there a little before 8am each day, and home by 8:45. Diana's starting to have a little more difficulty swallowing, but other than fatigue, she's feeling okay. She's getting a mile and a half of walking in most days -- that's been a little easier with a break in the heat this week.

We had blood work and a meeting with Dr. C. yesterday. He said the numbers looked good, and come on back in two weeks and we'll check again.

Marie's old nurse practitioner (now substitute) came by today, with a young doctor in tow. They took a culture, so we should hear something more tomorrow or Monday. Personally, I'm betting that her fax machine breaks down...

Meanwhile, I'm getting little good news tidbits. One of my photos of Old Capitol is now hanging outside the City Manager's office, and I got the contract to redesign the Emma Goldman clinic's website.

Our prolific hibiscusesesss are blooming again. This photo is from a couple of weeks ago... Although all of our plants did a second flowering following that two weeks of rain, so maybe we'll have new photos yet this season.

Autumnal Signs

...have been around for a couple weeks, now.

Our first to show is the woodbine, or Virginia Creeper. A piece of it coils up the trunk of a tree I can see at the edge of the window. Three weeks ago, I saw my first turned leaf. About a week later, I found red dogwood leaves on the path up to Mom's house. Last week, the sumacs by the mailbox sported red leaves. This past weekend, a row of freshly fallen yellow and brown leaves lined da Lane, blown there by a very careful wind.

Today I can count over a dozen red leaves on the Virginia Creeper.

I find myself looking forward to the fall cooling. Between the extraordinary humidity/heat this August and the side-effects of chemo and radiation, I've been a real cool-seeker lately.

Yesterday afternoon's treatment went smoothly; both machines were back up and running. We were out of there quickly enough that Kevin managed to do the weekly shopping while I tidied up da Green House for a meeting with new Web Design clients.


Today we started our first morning trip to the hospital for radiotherapy. We managed to avoid the two morning 'rush-quarter-hours.' I guess we do have a traffic rush hour here if you add up the two short rushes we have in the morning with the two we have in the late afternoon. *laughs*

We've learned that they can often take us earlier than 8:00 a.m., so we're trying to be there between 7:30 and 7:45. Tomorrow our appointment is actually at 7:45 because we have a hematology appointment and an appointment with Dr. C. This blood scan is to see how my red and white blood cells are holding up to the current therapy.

Mom is beginning to show signs that are concerning us. Her hands are often purple/blue from the wrist down, despite our trying to keep them moving and massaged. We don't know if they're spoon feeding her at the daycare or not, but she's losing the ability to control the fork or spoon herself. Her legs from the knee down are often icy cold (though never purple or blue, yet).

Last week she started emitting a yellowish foam around the catheter tube. A nurse is scheduled to see her this Thursday afternoon. We'll let you know what we learn. She says she feels fine and from all outward appearances she seems to be doing well and not really aware of anything noted above. She needs a few more prompts and reminders in the late afternoon and evening, but then again, so do I these daze...

Thanks for all of the Anniversary wishes and comments.

I wish I could say I haven't written here since last Friday because I've been off doing important things. Mostly, I've just been off... *blinks*

Howz by you??

One Machine

...broken, waiting for a part since Wednesday.












Second machine broken yesterday, waiting for parts.







We, of course, arrived fifteen minutes early for yesterday's appointment. When I got to the waiting room, one man was asleep on the couch and two of the three other chairs were occupied. ...at that time of day, I've been pretty much the only patient there.

The staff was stressed and dealing as well as can be expected. The machine used on me groaned more yesterday than it did the day before *shudders* We think they have four machines in that clinic... As I sat waiting, I listened to one woman making call after call canceling appointments for today.

Dr. B is conferencing and not available for our appointment next Monday. He said he thought he'd see us today instead, but that hasn't been confirmed. I volunteered to cancel today's appointment if that would be helpful, but...

I was finally treated an hour later; staff and I were there well after 5:30...

Staff faces are becoming familiar as we're sure ours are to the staff. Leroy blogged today about the downside of jobs, like oncology nurses, wherein they rarely know what's happened to a patient once they move from their care. I think there are a lot of occupations like that, teaching being among them. *shrugs* One of the advantages the hospital personnel have is that they can look things up in a centralized databank.

Just like everywhere we look, some of the faces (both personnel and patient) are friendlier than others; I image that some days our faces are less friendly looking, too...

We had a 5:30 Web Design appointment yesterday afternoon. When I realized what was going on with the treatment schedules, I went out to the Family Waiting Room and told Kevin to leave me at the clinic rather than canceling the appointment. I had a book and the waiting space is comfortable enough. So he went to the appointment without me.

Once we hooked back up, we decided to take ourselves out to dinner to celebrate our Anniversary. Another nice thing about that is that I'm looking forward to seconds for lunch today. *grins*

Here's wishing you a great weekend! *raises a glass of pomegranate juice*

Be well!

August 23, 1981

to us, happy anniversary to us, happy anniversary to uhhhhs, happy anniversary to us!

Happy Day to you, too!










Kevin and Diana

Broken...

...the linear accelerator is broken. That's what I learned from another patient in the waiting room. He told me that I'd be moving to another machine, but they came and moved me to the next waiting room before he could tell me any more. I've actually learned a fair amount from the other patients there when I am. *nods*

I was fifteen minutes early again so I figured with the machine glitch I'd have some time; ten minutes is what I was told. No magazines in radiotherapy waiting spaces, so I asked if I could go to the Family Waiting room to get a book from Kevin. I was in full hospital regalia, but there was only one other person waiting with Kevin. And, you know the motto: if you've seen it before it's nothing new, and if you haven't, it's about time you did... *grins*

The machine in the new room creaked and groaned -- worse than I do! Quite unsettling, actually, to have a how-many-pound machine pass over my chest as it moves from my right side to under my left side creaking, stuttering and jerking all along the axis.

But, like the five treatments before it, once it started it was over quickly. An odd little daily ritual, really -- for all of us.

Waiting daily for an appointment so late in the afternoon is somewhat analogous to the waiting I remember when I was working nights. It gives me time to fret about having to go and to look for reasons not to go... Major difference is that we're home by 5pm...long before any of those other jobs got me home.

I asked about the 'rad tats' I'm now sporting and learned that the two on my sides are primarily for my placement on the 'couch' and the ones on my breasts mark the path of the beams. While we're still to ascertain the exact number of Grays per beam, it's about a six-inch diameter circle as it enters my body and is not a coherent beam. Knowing this is important since we need to protect surrounding areas from the sun and to watch for changes in the epidermis itself. *sighs*

Somehow, I'm still gaining weight. *heavy sigh* *pun intended*

Anything weighty in your arenas??

The Hearts of Some Matters

Hope you all had an enjoyable weekend!

To answer some of CraniumMan's questions from Friday's blog:

First things first: No, I don't glow, nor am I particularly radioactive. *grins* When they implant seeds of radioactive matter into the tumor, the individual is isolated for a while because of radioactivity, but not in the case of radiation beam therapy. *ponders the notion of how half-lives work*

I cannot feel the path of the beam, nor do I feel any sensation in the area where the tumor is. That's both while the beam is being administered as well as after it's done.

I hear the whir of the machinery as it is lining up and a louder whir when the beam is actually activated. I count 30 Mississippi's before the sound of the beam being administered stops.

I am to breath 'normally.' I am not to move once on the table. If I need to cough or clear my throat or otherwise move, I need to hold it or stop the technicians.

I am told that what I am smelling and tasting is the heat of the motor revving the linear accelerator to the speed designated for the dosage. The beams are administered through my right anterior occipitals and my left posterior occipitals, one beam in each direction. ...I haven't yet mapped the path of those beams.

While I notice that I'm napping a bit more, the only other thing I'm noticing is the muscle group that was problematic from the surgery seems a bit more inflamed. I was off any pain killers for a few days there, but needed to take some yesterday...

I agree that we should be able to see ourselves as something other than an early or late patient. But then again, I think it would be nice to be seen as something more than just patients...

We get another shot at that this afternoon as our weekly appointment with Dr. B immediately follows the treatment at 4:30.

Dr. H (my previous physician) spoke with Dr. C and feels comfortable with what she understands to be the course of treatment, i.e., 25 radiation treatments, 3 weeks off, and a return to a course of chemotherapy.

I was able to walk a decent mile this morning and my BP was only 123/90, pulse 95.

We still haven't tested our blood pressure machine against the clinic's; should do that this afternoon.

Here's wishing you well: *raises a glass of blueberry juice*

Learnings

There are advantages and disadvantages, in any business, to being the first or the last client of the day. Middle of the day is less of an option for us as far as the hospital appointments are concerned. Our preference is early morning...

Yesterday I learned that the schedulers will set appointments for 4:30, but the nurses and technicians need that time to finish up with the day's paperwork... Yes, I remember having days when I needed to run, literally, from work to an important engagement. Wednesday's 4:45 exodus had a 'we're _finally_ escaping' feel to it, tho... *shrugs*

We need either really early or really late appointments so that Kevin won't need to lose any work time for them. When we first scheduled on Tuesday, we were told that _everyone_ wants first thing in the morning, and that didn't surprise me. So we asked for the latest possible appointment, and you've just read how that went. *grins*

The end result of all of this, however, is really quite good. The nurses and technicians have found an 8am slot for us beginning the week after next. *bigger grins*

Oh, yeah, our appointment on 8/29 is at 7:45. *blinks* We also have an appointment with Dr. C for a blood workup and two-week assessment.

So far the traffic at 4 hasn't been horrible, but the students are back next week. I've always found our afternoon rush-(quarter)-hour traffic to be much worse than our morning rush-(quarter)-hour traffic.

Wednesday and yesterday I learned that I can smell and taste 'burning' when the radiation is being administered...

Yesterday I learned that I may be growing the world's longest comb-over...

This week I learned that Leroy's blog can be as scary as it can be supportive.

What a job this is...

We're looking forward to a radiation-free weekend.

Howz by you?

Radiation Begins

"You know," dp said, "I've been doing most of the posting on the blog, so I really don't know much about what you're thinking and feeling about this."

Fair enough. Let me tell you about the radiation thang today first -- I'll need to compose my thoughts.

From a busy-ness standpoint, 4:30 pm is a pretty good time to go in. Both the parking lot and the waiting room are pretty empty.

I got the one-time-only family member tour, and took a camera. From now on, I'll stay in the waiting room. It was actually a little less techy than I envisioned. I mean, there is the multi-million dollar table and rotating micro point radiation beaming apparatus, but the interface pretty much boils down to a Dell computer. No banks of flashing lights or switches and dials -- makes sense, but still a little disappointing...

dp came out of the dressing room wearing her own pants and a lovely patterned poncho-like top. She hopped up on the table, which then rose two or three feet higher to position her under the x-ray. One of the technicians showed me how they align the laser lines on dp's cross marks, and then told me it was time to go.

dp was out about 10 minutes later. Her first comment was that the air smelled different when the machine was operating. They shoot two beams, each for about thirty seconds, and she's done.

dp is the last appointment of the day -- the techs were all out the door before we were. It was only 4:45, so we can avoid most of the traffic. So far, so good. One treatment down, and 24 to go.

So, what's with me? I think I'm maintaining pretty well. I'm proud of the way the dp is handling this, hurting for her, and hurting that that won't take away her hurt. I try to appreciate the good days, which are plentiful, and roll through the less-than-good days. Work is presenting more challenges than problems right now, and creativity is a good stress reliever for me.

Rain, Rain, Come to Stay

This is where I worked most of the morning after seeing Mom off on the van. This photo is from this spring, and in just a couple months some weeds have gone hog wild! Timing was great since we're expecting rains for the next five days or so.


Boy, my appreciation of rain in the summer, particularly in August, sure has changed over the past ten years! I know there are swimmers, boaters and other sportsfolks who wish rains weren't in the forecast, but I'm hoping they'll remember last summer when sun was much more plentiful, and we had to carry and pipe water out to these gardens...



I weeded and moved a number of clumps of: shasta daisy, volunteer marigolds, and a blue flowering groundcover that we carried from our former home. Found two (of some twenty-four) of the pink vinca that we planted along the edges last year. Since this is the first we've seen, maybe some of the others will take and provide us with some fall color.

Moved some chrysanthemums from the Strip Garden into the Anniversary Bed in the photograph. The mums are from our anniversary gathering last year. Only about a third of them lived, so I filled the bed in with others in the yard. Also moved some groundcover onto the edges of the bed. The shrubs behind the bed are the rhododendrons that are supposed to get tall enough to hide the large white telephone company box in the backgound.

Yesterday we checked in at the Radiation Clinic. A technician came out and told us that she needed to tell me what to expect, but that since no one was allowed in the radiation area, if we both wanted to hear the information, she'd have to talk to us in the large waiting room...right by the coffee station. It's not like there weren't empty rooms... *blinks*

All they did was to check and realign the target marks on my sides and chest. We also had questions for the nurse we met with last week regarding soaps and oils, etc. She, of course, was not there so we met with her counterpart who didn't have any idea about what creams or oils might be detrimental in the radiation room... So, she sent in Dr. B. He was professional and answered our questions, but he seemed ...irritated that he had to meet with us.

I found the whole tenor of the clinic to be the exact opposite of what it was when I was a candidate for the Study. Kevin thinks it has to do with students (ergo staff) being gone for the summer... *shrugs*

Yesterday was Billiards Day. Kevin's streak was broken. *frowns*

Also Massage Day. Got to try some new techniques that I think are going to be quite healing!

This afternoon we go to radiation. We understand that Kevin can tour the small-gym-size room that the machine is in. He's thinking photos, but...

I wish I could say I wasn't nervous...

Community

As I've mentioned before, I've been following Leroy Siever's blog at: http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/

Prompted by a recent discussion about using pain medications, I commented, and another reader responded to my saying, "We had flunked chemotherapy and were moving on to radiation therapy." What follows is my response to his comment:

Ceese> Thank you for your post:

"dp,
It wasn't you who flunked, it was the chemotherapy. You probably aced it: showed up each day on time, didn't run away, did all the stuff you were supposed to, right? Well, here's to the radiation matching YOUR success. Ceese"

There's a part of me who knows that you are ablsolutely right; I haven't 'flunked' chemotherapy, and I appreciate the reminder!

I apologize for, and hope to explain, the somewhat dejected perspective:

As a retired teacher and researcher, I remember being excited when I found subjects eligible for a study that we were conducting, and being disappointed when we learned they weren't.

In March we learned that I was a candidate for a national study that our local University is taking part in. The short of it is that I have moved very quickly from being the clinic's 'Sterling Study Subject' to being a similar kind of disappointment, and now frustration to the professionals working to help us cure this cancer.

The initial Study involved concurrent chemotherapy with radiation. Once no longer eligible as a subject, a course of chemotherapy was prescribed. Yes, you're right, again, Ceese; we made all of the appointments, didn't run away, were on time, etc. *laughs*

I had a serious allergic reaction to the first infusion. Lowered white cell counts coupled with residual pain (from the thorocotomy done in mid-May) interrupted the second cycle attempt. It's _that_ pain that I needed to stay ahead of and which prompted my initial post yesterday.

While I've been reading this blog since our diagnosis, I don't recall reading about Leroy or others being part of studies. Have any of you?

I remember feeling fortunate to be a part of such a study. I remember being concerned about insurance not covering 'experimental procedures.' I remember the disappointment we felt when we learned we weren't. ...just smacked of failure *winces*

...and from now on, I'll remember that it's the chemotherapy that's failing me, and not vice versa. Thanks, again!

We are now almost six months out and are going to 'try a couple weeks of radiation.' The Study called for seven weeks of radiation...

Our good news is that tumor is the same size; our bad news is that the tumor is the same size.

Being a member of the CancerCommunity teaches us a lot, starting with an appreciation of this blog and the folks who participate here.

*raises a glass of blueberry juice with Creese in a toast to our upcoming radiation*

Today's photo is another of Kevin's from this year...a pair of house sparrows (underside) and a triad of house finches (in the bowl).

Cold seems better!

How's by you, this Ides of August??

Sunny Sunday

...and I seem to be dealing with a cold *sighs*

Yesterday morning Kevin tackled mowing the entryway lawn which had grown some with these past couple weeks of rain; I weeded the multiple gardens and shrubs out by the mailbox.

Friday we learned that we not only lost the cable box and internet router, but the machine that answered both phone lines, as well. We located one out near the BGDMall and decided to make it into a multifaceted trip yesterday afternoon since we rarely find ourselves in that part of town anymore.

After finding the phone section of the warehouse called a store (now on the opposite side of the store from where they were a few months ago), we zeroed right in on the equipment that would meet our needs. I figure the walk to the other side of the store will count toward my cardio... Also found a couple new games for the PlayStation *grins*

Culvert's Restaurant is on that side of town. They serve a frozen custard that's remniscient of a treat we used to get as children on our way home from the public swimming pool. The vendor was called 'Sip and Nip' and their building was the size of a small gas station, light and dark blue as I recall. The frozen custard was soft, melted quickly, and preoccupied us for the rest of the walk home.

Culvert's is the closest I've come to that treat since Sip and Nip closed in the 1950's. This time we decided to bring some home. Frozen soft-serve has never tasted the same to me once it was frozen. Most are ice-milk products, and this is different than the other franchise products. We'll let you know how this does. (And, that will need to be great given how pricey it is...)

Our idea was to get a gallon so that it would perhaps hold better in the 90 degree weather since we were planning another brief stop on the way home. They, of course, were out of gallon containers. At least we didn't have to ask for insulated bags...

We went to the bowling alley to clean out our lockers of twenty-some years. With the uncertainty of our treatment schedule and the unpredictable side-effects of everything we're doing, we just don't think making that kind of commitment is realistic at this point.

We'll miss a number of the people we've gotten to know there over the years. And now we'll need to find something else to do with our Wednesday evenings. We'll let you know what that is. We're also going to keep the equipment and see where we are next year at this time.

Mom has been exhibiting cold symptoms since Wednesday. With all of the other medications she takes, we won't give her any decongestants or antihistamines. I've used the saline solution and helped her blow her nose. We've also given her some cold-eze lozenges and will see how she is tomorrow, when we can call a nurse if necessary.

The pain I've been dealing with the past few weeks is still subsiding and I'm beginning to sleep through the night again. ...not totally free of the pain meds, though... *sighs*

We have an appointment in radiology Tuesday morning.

Sunny Sunday...I seem to be dealing with a cold.

How's _your_ health??

Fluff and Puff

Today seems an appropriate day to unfurl the white hibiscus. The white are even larger than the red and seem very flag-like, especially from a distance.

The rains this past week have loosened some weeds I've had my eye on. Was able to pull many of them, do some yardening, and do a couple laps around da Lane this morning before the heat got the humidity cooking. Looks like we have a break in the rains for the next couple days. The sun played hide and seek in the clouds most of the day and the humidity wasn't horrific...

Our massage this afternoon was productive. dd bottled up a sample of her oils so we can check to see if any of them may be ill-advised while we're doing radiation treatments. We did some work on the right chest muscles, calmed some tensions in my shoulders and legs. I hadn't taken any pain meds today and was pleased that the all too familiar chest/rib ache was absent. And, I was energized.

Energized enough to come home and make the cream puffs for Mom to take to the care center tomorrow. It's a day early, but as Auntie 'Rie said, "They're not open on Shorty's birthday." We'll bake the shells tonight and then fill them in the morning.

Last night's rains fried our cable box and internet router. Our business phone line was also trashed. The technician was here this afternoon. She fixed the business line; now the home line doesn't work...

So, we don't know if anyone has been trying to reach us or not. The phone has been ringing a lot, but it disconnects to a dialtone immediately...

If you need to reach us, try the business line, the cell line, email...or posting here.

In the meantime, I find this close-up to be particularly inviting:

Sundrop's Visitor ...

...would be the caption of this photo, if we could caption it with this software...

While known to be sun-loving plants, we have a stand doing very well in our WI garden behind da Green House. Now in our too-manieth day of Iowa's well-known August weather, this early summer sundrop is a day-brightener for me, even if it is a bit buggy.


Backing up through this sleep-laden week:

Kevin won yesterday's Billiard game. I think that gives him a string of one ...or two in a row *thwaps self* We hope you're feeling better, Sleeves! *healing hugs* We missed you; Billiard Day just isn't the same... Please feel free to schedule yourselves a make-up game, now that you've reconfirmed we have a nicer table than some of the other ones in town. *grins*

Our massage yesterday was very relaxing, which is what I felt I needed, oddly enough. One would think that all the sleep I've gotten recently would have relaxed me plenty...

There's been some recent discussion about a couple things related to cancer and massage, and we're wondering if any of you would like to weigh in on it:

1) True or false? The manipulation of the lymphs and the lymph system in general increases the likelihood that the cancer will metastasize.

2) True or false? The manipulation of muscle tissues trying to heal at the cellular level are impeded by the chemotherapy, and massage is further detrimental to that healing process.

Whew! And now we're going to complicate all of that with radiation. *sighs*

That's what we learned at the appointment on Monday morning. The CT scan with contrast (an iodine pushed through my veins to 'light up' the tumor) lasted less than fifteen minutes. ...the wait for various nurses and personnel was over two hours.

We also got copies of the doctors' remarks from our previous appointments and learned that Dr. A is concerned about my blood pressure. We're needing to see how much my anxiety is contributing to the current elevated readings that I've been putting out. *wonders if taking lorazepam beforehand would be helpful*

I have three 'target' marks: one in the upper center of my chest and one on each side, under the armpit. The blue-magic-marker x's have been covered over with a clear tape that should be more water-resistant than Tegaderm is.

It takes 2-5 days to read the scan and devise the plan because it requires the input of a number of people. We are scheduled next Tuesday morning for that consultation. I'm remembering that at that time we'll set our morning schedule for the daily doses of radiation. (If that's wrong, Kevin will correct it.) We know it's daily and that we should be able to schedule appointments first thing in the morning so we don't tax Kevin's leave time too much. We've been told it could be two weeks; we've been told it could be five weeks. We'll let you know as soon as we do.

I'm to switch to Dove soap. We've been forbidden all our lives from using Dove soap because of a 1950's article in the Detroit News that indicated people were having reactions to it; that was enough for Mom to keep it out of the house. Also no anti-perspirant, because of the aluminum chloroxides (?), which straight deodorant doesn't have.

Now that I'm "marked" for the radiation beams, we have to be careful about both touching the areas, and the oils we use.

I'm to resume taking a resting blood pressure daily...

If you know of any other side-effects besides the above, the lowered blood cell counts, the energy drain, appetite loss, blisters, or other epidural deterioration, do let us know how best to deal with it.

The better news today (does that imply their being a worse news?) is that the ache in the muscles over my right rib cage is actually what I would call minimal today. I'm going to take NancyTurtle's advice about using an OTC med before bed for a few more days to ensure I continue to sleep through the night.

I'm feeling the lack of physical exercise which is a result of both the weather and this lethargy that I've been working through. The rain is cooling things down, and today I'm thinking about doing my walk in the rain...maybe even carry a bar of soap *heh* I need to get the stationary bike fitted for me and move the cross-country ski thang here.

The other downside of all this humidity is that Mom wants cream puffs to take to her day care in honor of Uncle Shorty's birthday on Saturday -- humidity turns flaky crispness into tough leather in no time. I was wanting to freeze them and hope that the humidity would be a bit more civil on Friday morning. *crosses fingers*

The best news is that the lethargy is diminishing!

*notes she's not nearly so verbose when she's over-slept and experiencing pain-killer withdrawal*

Can't Believe...

...I slept through the whole weekend -- and then some!

Saturday morning, we did some errands. We visited with Lauren and Michael in the early afternoon, who brought healing chicken soup and noodles which we are still enjoying.

I fell asleep early that evening.

Probably didn't sleep Saturday night because of sleeping the early evening before, and the fact that I hadn't taken any meds.

Sunday we did errands, and I slept most of the rest of the day and evening. ...because I was up most of the night before, I'm guessing. I did remember to take meds Sunday night before bed.

Monday morning, Kevin let me sleep until 8:30 because I was not allowed to eat or drink before the CT with contrast which was at 10am. Even then, it was a long time to go without food or drink... The scan, etc. took most of the morning and we got home in time for Kevin to have lunch and return to work.

I slept most of the afternoon and evening...

Was up by 5am this morning and dozed a bit on the couch so I wouldn't wake Kevin early. I'm tired, but not as tired as I've been since my chest started hurting and I started pain meds.

While I'm coughing some this morning, it doesn't hurt nearly as much to cough as it did last week. Am down to just OTC meds and am hoping I'll be off those by the end of the week. *crosses fingers*

And, maybe all of that sleep is why my chest isn't hurting as much...?...

Today is Billiards and Massage Day.

What's on the agenda for your day??

Roses of Sharon

...something Mom has continually asked about having, so we now have six. This particular shrub is on the headboard of the flower bed at the top of the hill:




We haven't updated you on Mom in a while. This month marks a year that she has been a client at her current day care.

The facility's care plan is scheduled for three month review, although a copy of that plan was not provided us. Perhaps they'll copy the contracts and other paperwork, now that she's signed them, and will send us copies later. *shrugs* *makes note to call them on Monday*

They did manage to note that Mom should not be lifted using her right armpit, as that collarbone break has never healed. They did _not_ note that she should never be given apple products. They did _not_ note that the position of her chair needs to be changed every couple hours to avoid pressure sores. Then again, she _has_ only been there a year... *sighs*

She said that she would prefer DNR as her ‘emergency status.’ That's what it has been the majority of the time, but OTOH, the minority-of-the-time preference needs to be checked, as well. It’s an odd thing to have to ask someone annually; having two people to ask over the past ten years doesn’t make it any the less odd.

Mom would like to take a cake to her care facility to celebrate Dad’s birthday, which is August 11th. I asked her today what kind of cake she would like us to get and she said, “I was thinking he would like cream puffs.” We'll get the makings for them next week.



She loves sitting on her screened in porch. We've trimmed the shrubs so she can see the waterfall. And, we've added fish to the pond. Comets -- the same fish as the ones in their third year in da Creek. The fish are still too small for her to see from the porch, but if they grow as rapidly as ours, she'll be able to see them next year.



Our update is much quicker. We have an appointment on Monday morning for the CT scan that will be used to devise a radiation treatment plan. When the scheduling nurse asked if I'd have problems lying down for the CT scan, I told her that I wish I knew...

Today I seem to be on top of the pain. Aside from what I posted in the comments section, we're doing a 'pain assessment' first thing in the morning. Now that we’re learning the right combinations, it’s getting easier to stay on top of the pain. I just wish we knew how long it was going to take for the traumatized muscles to heal. For now I'm trying to downgrade to the OTC meds...

Today's good news is my realization that we don't have the mosquito problem that I was thinking we did; the bad news is that what I've been feeling is my hair falling out and brushing against my arms and legs...

But wait! It also means I got out and did some yardening today -- it ain't _all_ bad!!

Hope your news is good, too.

Make nice!

Dr B Again...

A little new info. Dr. B noted that there was a 'hot' lymph node in the CT taken in May that's not hot anymore, so chemo has done some good. He says that while the chemo isn't having a lot of effect on the millions of cancer cells in the tumor, but it does look like it's doing its job of killing off the thousands of cells that may show up elsewhere. He was also pleased that it the tumor hadn't grown.

They'll do the targeting CT sometime next week, the same way they did back in May. They'll try to expedite the analysis, and then present a treatment plan. It sounds like they're looking to do about 6000 cGy of radiation. If they can get clear paths, they'll do more radiation for three weeks. Otherwise, they'll do lower levels for five or six weeks. He says they'll do it as quickly as is safe, so they can get dp back into chemo again.

dp is still hurting -- the pain in her right side requires a pretty steady regimen of cocktails of ibuprofen, tylenol and tramadol or oxycodone, but none of the doctors are freaking out about it, and seem comfortable attributing it to the last surgery.

Now we learn more about radiation treatment care -- dp picked up some new pamphlets at the hospital, so we've got more reading to do.

The rosebud is from the Knock Out rose out by the road.

Make nice!

An Hibiscus Haven

We're hoping that having Kevin's face in this grouping will give you an idea of how large some of our hibiscus got this year. And, these aren't the largest!










Close-up they're just amazing! I could just climb inside...













The whites are the larger ones mentioned earlier. (No trick photography in this bunch!)











We'll post close-ups of the whites later this week.







In the meantime, yesterday was Billiards and Massage Day; Kevin won and I believe we did some good work during our massage. Hope yours was as great as ours!

Today's post from Leroy Sievers sums up some recent thoughts for me, although I don't believe this is limited to the cancer community:

Racing Against Time
Posted: 01 Aug 2007 07:00 AM CDT
Time. That's really what cancer is all about. It's painful, it's sad, it's scary. But I think what we really all fear is that it's stealing our lives, our futures. It's stealing time. Before we were diagnosed, if you asked, we all probably would have said that we had all the time in the world. Time to accomplish things, time to experience things, time to waste on a lazy afternoon. But the diagnosis changes all of that, of course. Then time becomes precious, something to be hoarded, something to be valued.

Time can also become a burden. Sometimes we hear the ticking of the clock and feel pressure to make every moment count. There's no time to waste. Every moment must be used. That's impossible, of course. And I'm not sure it's good for us, either. It's okay to do nothing. To spend an afternoon just listening to music, or reading a book, or just staring out the window. That's all time well spent. Certainly while you're on chemo, there are days where you really can't do anything but sit on the couch and let time pass by. Worrying about it, regretting those lost minutes, doesn't help.

As I wrote yesterday, I've been thinking about time as I reach the 20 month point. And I remembered something a woman wrote in about when this blog first started. She and her husband figured out the number of weeks they would have left together if they both lived to be 90. They put that many marbles in a bowl, and once a week, they take out a marble and put it in the other bowl. They use that as a time to talk about the week just ended, to reflect on what they've done. I thought that was a pretty good idea.

Now, I appreciate all of your offers to send me more beads, but I really don't need them. But I have a suggestion. Take all those beads and put them in a bowl. And then, once a week, or once a day -- well, you can take it from there.

*remembers where she stashed the marbles*