If You Could Forget...

...anything in your life, what would that be?

Leroy can be thought provoking; this is what I posted in response:

On this journey
I call my life
I've found no one
more interested
In it than I.

If I don't remember,
who will? Certainly
not the cancer...

I choose to remember
As much as I can
As long as I can
As it's who I am
And who I am to be.

-dp

Be well.

What would you choose to forget?

Gyardening...

...evidences a belief in our tomorrows.

We've found a home for the red bud (photo posted on 9/8) and a couple of our dogwoods; Nettie and dd lost trees in a storm last year and have places for a few understory trees.

Those 5+ yearold bareroot trees currently border along what we now call the Strip Bed and are casting their share of shadow on what we consider our Sunny Gyarden, including our floundering Asparagus Bed. We've tried numerous plants in that strip; so far the trees and the iris have done the best. Only a few of the prize day lilies survived, but the ones that did are gorgeous.

Last year we got the Rose Bed started there, some plantings of Shasta Daisy, which are spreading almost too rapidly, bee balm, tickseed, some geranium, vinca, dianthus, creeping phlox, transplants of cone flowers, Blackeye Susans and Painted Sunflowers started by Michael once the construction of da Lane was completed in '99 -- the few sunlovers that we've tried.

That tree border is now shading all of the above. Still left to move are a couple flowering crabs and the hawthorn. We've now found places for them, along da Lane Entry, as far up against the abutting properties as possible. Next week is forecast to be 70's during the day and 50's in the evenings -- our idea of perfect.

This weekend I was able to move everything out from under the trees to be moved, so they're ready for the taking. The Long Thin Silver Bed directly across da Lane gets the most sun, so that bed now contains more lambs ear, tickseed, bee balm, Shasta Daisies, and ground covers. The Tall Thin Bed only has a headboard, so we moved some struggling Roses of Sharon to stand as the foot of the Bed.

Also moved a dozen or so of the iris; I'm thinking there's another Bed of sorts there, but until the trees are gone, it's hard to say. Kevin is still looking at a serious, wheelchair accessible raised bed and we've even imagined a kind of Secret Garden if this hedge continues to grow...

The hardest thing for me to believe is that four of our Hisbiscus are now in their _fifth_ flowering this season. Or, is that something that's quite common and I'm just waking up to the fact?

The photo of the Painted Sun Flower is one of Kevin's from earlier this year, but there should still be some blooming for NancyTurtle's, Carl's and Patty's visits!



On our HEALthWatch:

Our Oncology Clinic was as empty as Leroy's was full today! I was able to scan around the two waiting rooms so quickly I almost gave myself whiplash. Technicians were walking around looking for something to do, clerks were actually not _swamped_. An almost uneasy peacefulness...

Mine was just a blood pressure follow-up in oncology this morning after the RadioTherapy treament; my file wasn't even in the rack of today's appointments. They wrote my name on a post-it with the letters: BP. Seconds later the BP was in and it was back to the empty waiting room to await the onc's assessment.

The hydrocholorothiazide isn't resolving the BP issue, so a beta blocker, metoprolol, will be added. CardioDept wants lower numbers, and I just don't seem to be able to learn and implement the Alternative and Complementary techniques quickly enough to resolve today's numbers. I'm still walking a mile a day, but after a month of rad tx, I know I'm slowing a bit *shrugs*

Tomorrow we begin our eight rad Booster Treatments. For starters, I have a 4" diameter, black, comic-book "POW" mark on the inside of my left breast.

Rad Tattoo, Indeed! Whoooo-whooooo!!

Howz by yourz??

Bonus Rounds!!!

As you know, Monday is Doctor Day, so upon finishing radiotherapy treatment #23, we got the official word on the Booster Treatments.

The first 25 treatments are actually considered palliative -- the goal was to stop tumor growth. Since dp is tolerating those well, the booster is bonus radiotherapy with a narrower field to see if they can do some serious damage to the tumor. 6600 CG over an eight-day period, commencing the day after treatment 25.

So now the new magic number is 33, and the new completion day is two weeks from today.

We also learned more today about the actual radiotherapy process - I think dp wrote about it earlier. The effect that radiation has on the body is caused by the fact that the energy in the radiation can cleave a hydrogen cell off of water molecules. The remaining HO hydroxide molecules are free radicals, which run around reacting with other particles, damaging the DNA of all the cells they come in contact with. According to the helpful young resident who's been sharing all this, healthy cells are able to repair this damage while cancer cells are not.

dp says this explanation makes it easier for her to visualize what's supposed to be happening. Personally, I envision tiny little Abbey Hoffman dudes smacking around cancer cells with their protest signs, but I guess free radicals aren't what they used to be...

dp's been rearranging plants, shrubs and trees. She moved a bunch around this weekend, which she says she'll blog about, while I worked on overdue bookwork and code for a new shopping cart for a website I'm designing. We manage to stay busy.


With a tip of the cranium to CraniumMan and his son, the following graphic:




...it really _is_ like throwing money at Carneys *nods*


Happy Billiards Day!!!

HEALthWatch

Monday is 'Doctor Day' in our RadiotherapyCommunity. It means we take vitals, meet with a couple nurses, sometimes a resident or three, and Dr. B, who does a cursory physical, mostly monitoring my lungs, breathing and heart and asking after degrees of pain.

Our final treatment date is still next Wednesday. Following that treatment, we're meeting with Dr. C to re-examine this high blood pressure thing. FWIW, I'm running high despite wise eating, walking, and the meds. *shrugs*

We expect to learn more about Booster Radiotherapy Treatments on Monday; so far our info in all incidental and self-researched.

I'm beginning feel the effects of the damage being done to my lungs, esophagus and throat. The Radiotherapy Shooters are prescribed an hour before meals and an hour before bed. We're finding an hourly schedule to be more effective, i.e., 6am, 11am, 5pm and 10pm, because I don't notice the effects lapsing as much as I did last week on their schedule.

Or not. I need to understand how one weighs damage to one's system in the face of healing said same system.

I am also hoping to meet with Dr. A sometime next week to discuss some secondary health issues and to help her help me better case manage this treatment among two to four different departments. I'm thinking her office can better co-ordinate the distribution of the clinic notes we're generating since all of my doctors are now with the same hospital.

CraniumMan notes that alltoomany doctors and nurses prefer clients who don't tax them, and we think he's right. Some clerks still seem surprised that we ask for copies of our records; many don't know how to help us get them.

This next week will be a test of just how well we've gotten this all coordinated *knocks wood*

Make a great rest of the week!

Stay hydrated!!

When Cancer Is Old News...

...was the title of one of Leroy's recent blogs. I find him, and his contributors, to be thought provoking -- as I'm sure you can tell from some of our topics.

I'm not sure where we are with regard to the age of our cancer news -- technically six months last week. We seem to have things in common with some of the other contributors and other things to look forward to; here are some of their insights:

--Laurel M Jones:

In the beginning of my illness back in March of 2006, I started writing an email update to family and interested friends. I had a horrible cough and it was easier than talking to people.

For a while I wrote every few days. I was at home for months dealing with a very harsh chemo regime and people wanted to know exactly what symptoms and side effects I was having. I tried to write with humor and creativity. It was both cathartic and gave me something to do with my time.

For now that need has changed. I'm much more to the point now. The longer I live with this disease and all of it's ups and downs, the less often I want to write about the day to day details.

I'm more concerned with living my life rather than documenting it.

Folks write about emails and blogs as expedient ways to disseminate information. Despite the number of related and interesting cancer blogs around, we comment about missing a more dynamic means of dialoguing within the various blog communities. My guess is that it's in the offing, somewhere *shrugs*

For us, "the sCenario" began as a way to help remember dates, times, places and people, as well as a way to convey information to those wanting it. As our situation began to settle, daily news-blasts weren't forthcoming and an alternative journal, much of it gardening, began to evolve.

Somewhere between the two is where I am now. The gardens' journals and records suffered during the past four years because of time constraints put on us doing 24/7 ElderCare. The blog has provided us with some good catching up in that regard.

In the meantime, I'm struck by Laurel's last line, above. I don't see the two as being mutually exclusive. *blinks*

-- Lynn:

I agree that the novelty has worn off not just for me but for others. The cards I used to get daily have dwindled. The prepared foods have not come in months. I don't mind. I know everyone still cares but life goes on.

Life goes on, indeed!
Let us know how yours is going; we've shown you ours, ya know!

-- Yvette:

Hi Leroy et al..
It's true that it does become old news..until you see someone or talk to someone out of the blue. An old college friend contacted me via email this week after 15 years. I debated on whether or not to tell her about the cancer but really it has unfortunately been a dominating presence in my life for the last year. How much to you say? how many details? do you say that you have been contemplating your mortality at 39? how honest are you? I told her some basics and I haven't heard back yet.. sometimes even a little bit it too much for people...

This is the newest arena for me.

I don't look 'cancer-sick.' My high-blood-pressure-red cheeks and world's longest comb-over find no one guessing we have a dx. I only huff and puff when pushing my walk or my gardening. If you hadn't been told, I'm not sure you'd guess our Stage and Type.

We can't remember who knows and who doesn't. We haven't been in the habit of disclosing to strangers, but this town and this town's hospital run some interesting parallels and perpendiculars. Our family and friends are pretty extended, sometimes overlapping, circles.

Then there are the new groups of people we meet in various waiting rooms and doctors offices where confidentiality is primarily among those of us sitting there. "Good Morning Mr. Hill! We're ready for you, now! Can you state your full name, please?"

"George Hill." George knows I have cancer; I know George has cancer. We don't know the particulars beyond that. I know that George turned 53 last Wednesday... I know lots more about him than he knows about me. Confidentiality, indeed!

Some innocent mis-speaks we all have while interacting around the cancer experiences are being collected on another blog that I read. I'll record some to share. *makes note*

--Leroy:

These days, it doesn't seem to come up so much. Certainly just about everyone I know now knows that I'm sick. There are times, in conversations with strangers, when I have to ask myself whether to tell. But most of the time, I don't say anything.

These days, the cancer feels like old news. It's just part of my life. If someone asks me how I am, unless they specifically ask about my health, I usually start talking about other things.

I'm still on the fence, here...

While not shy about talking about cancer, I am tiring of talking about cancer.

On the one hand, there's the blog; on the other hand it's not a substitute for personal interaction.

On the one hand, there are people who are avoiding me now that I'm 'sick,' on the other hand, amazing people are coming from unbelievable places to offer guidance and support.

*claps the one hand on top of the other hand*

Mostly I think there are plenty more dire and interesting things happening around us than our cancer, right now. How lucky for us all!

In the meantime, I'm loving that I can be sharing life with my soulmate.
I'm reading again. I'm gardening again. I'm writing again.

And I hope to be doing that when _that's_ old news, too.

Howz by youz??

Like Sitting Ducks...

The photographic image comes from the pond just to the left of our back porch. The ducks are ceramic and float from March until November, when they find haven with other yard kitsch away from Winter's winds; the ducks are now seven years old. To the right, you can see the reflection of our large copper ball. This is the waterfall that we rearranged last weekend so it would make more noise... The plants are water lettuce.

The metaphoric image conjures up neat rows of aberrant cells: ripe for redirection, manageable, massageable, malleable... ...easy pickings...


We, unfortunately, don't know much more today than we did prior to yesterday's meeting with Dr. C:

He is not at all concerned that I've gained 10 lbs. in the last month; I sure as hell am! *weighty sighs*

He _is_ concerned that my blood pressure is now running consistently in the 150/100 range, the concern being the diastolic (lower) number. Dr. A had expressed concerns about my blood pressure being high earlier this summer, during chemo. We've been thinking it's situational, i.e., hospital trips are stressful, radiotherapy sessions are stressful, the medication regime is stressful, hell, what _isn't_ stressful? *sighs* We've been thinking that I would be able to learn how to better self-regulate it through exercise, diet, relaxation techniques, etc.

We got a good Blood Pressure cuff and have been taking my pressure daily for some time now. So far, our good dietary and exercise intentions don't seem to be working. *heavy sighs*

We've decided that having my BP up in the 160/100 range every morning only to be able to bring it down to 140/90 at best at rest is probably not the best for my system. We've decided to use a prescription of hydrochlorothiazide until the radiotherapy is completed.

When will that be, we asked? Depends on whether we do "Booster Treatments." Since that's a radiotherapy thang, and not a chemotherapy thang, we won't have the details about that until next Monday, which is our next day with Dr. B.

The last scheduled day of the 25 treatments is Wednesday, 9/19. Were there to be Booster Treatments, they would consist of 5-10 treatments with re-calibrated rays -- narrower, with more intense focus.

My skin seems to be showing no ill effects of the radiotherapy *crosses fingers* The Radiotherapy Shooters still allow me to swallow, but I'm noticing their effects wearing off sooner and sooner each day...

In any case, we meet again with Dr. C next Wednesday to monitor the BP, and we'll get copies of the hematology records at that time. Cell counts didn't come up at the last meeting, which means they're remaining in the normal range.

It seems like as long as we continue to show no serious ill effects from the radiotherapy, the Booster Treatments are a consideration. Based on that, another CT has been scheduled for late October, which will be a month after the last treatment -- the period of time they say the radiotheraputic effect remains in place. We won't know until the results of that CT just how many cells remain.

So here we remain, like sitting ducks...

*quack*

Labels...

...rarely fit everyone in the same way.

A few daze ago, Leroy's blog dealt with the new labels that we have with regard to these aberrant cancer cells: survivor, victim, patient, got-what-she-deserved, fighter, guinea pig... His question: Can we ever be 'normal' again??

What follows is my response to his post:

========================================

Labels, just like most things, have their good points as well as their bad. We tend to agree with those who define labels similarly to the way we do. Some labels serve me better in some places, other labels serve me better at other times. Labels often provide quick and efficient ways to classify...

"Normal" for my caregiver and myself has _never_ been a static thing. As we've grown and evolved, so has our sense and define of normal. Each new job/career, each geographic move, each new relationship, each lifestyle change brought with it a new define of normalcy.

How far would I have to go back, and would I ever find that yearned for state of 'normal?' I think not. Before the cancer-change for me was the Big Change: menopause. I consider that I had a 'normal' menopausal journey, but do I want to return to being in full blown menopause again? No thank you!

During that time, I was also providing full-time care to our then 80 year old parents. Over the course of the past ten years, up until today, "normal" for us was/is in constant flux. That's why I've posted so often that we make plans so we'll have something to do in case there's no emergency.

I'm similarly adapting to the normalcy of the recent change prompted by some cancer cells. *shrugs* Am I wanting to return to another me, a previous me? Nope. I'm wanting to carry the knowledge and normalcy I acquired there forward into the new learnings and normalcy of today's tomorrows.

So, we consider us all to be normal people coping with cancer cells. If there's anything abnormal about us, it's the cells. *shrugs* I agree with Vicky in referring to this as "dis-ease" and we're learning to ameliorate it.

Some days we play the cancer card; some days we keep it in our pocket. With time, it's gotten around that we have the card to play, so I don't see where I have the right to take umbrage at that, or any label we wear, whether it be a designer label or one just off the rack.

For me, the bigger question is, "Just what the heck is 'normal,' anyway?

And surviving? We're all surviving more than just cancer! *shudders at the thought of what else is out there*

Here's wishing us well! Stay hydrated!!

===================================

...today's new label is: Booster Treatments. The technician asked today what they had decided would be my course of Booster Treatments. We were told our _last_ treatment would be next Wednesday. hrmmmm.... We have a pretty good guess...

In the meantime we meet with Dr. C tomorrow morning following our radiotherapy treatment and the blood draws. We're also planning to request a full set of our medical records as long as we have an hour or so in-between. Anything you'd like us to ask or have copies of??

We hope that no one's posting here the past few daze means that you're all off living and loving full lives of your own. *crosses fingers* Do take time to share when you find the time.

Meantime, hug your loved ones and be well!!

*raises a tall glass of iced water*