Parker completed the mile swim at Boy Scout Camp with a smile on his face!

I haven't posted a blog entry since July 7! In the meantime I've spent a lot of hours at the doctor, emergency room, and bed. I missed 2 treatments due to my illness, drank Rachel's smoothies so I could gag some really big antibiotics down, finished reading "The Wednesday Letters" for September's book club, and didn't do much else. I didn't even feel well enough to do puzzles when I was waiting in the doctor's office. My fever got as high as 104.3 degrees, and stayed elevated for 9 days. My oxygen saturation fell to 89% from its usual 99 to 100%. In trying to diagnose my illness I went through every test known to man. I had several blood tests, urine tests, flu swabs, chest x-rays, a spinal tap, an EKG, and the test where they look at your heart with an ultrasound machine. After all these tests they concluded I had a rare kind of pneumonia that occurs in chemo patients. Apparently after ruling everything else out that's the only thing they could come up with. So they took me off the antibiotic I was prescribed in the hospital and put me on another type that's much huger and harder to take, plus I take six a day, as compared to one of the other kind.
I'm seventeen treatments into chemo and it's really starting to take a toll on my body. I saw my doctor yesterday and he deemed I was healthy enough to get treatment. I was very reluctant since I've felt horrible ever since my first Taxol infusion on the 7th. My doctor insisted my illness was caused by the Adria/Cytoxin treatments and not the Taxol. I made him promise the Taxol wouldn't make me sick before I agreed to do it, and he promised without hesitation, so I took his word for it and mentally prepared for another go.
When I got called into the chemo suite I had a nurse I was unfamiliar with since I've been going on Mondays and it was a Thursday. She accessed my port perfectly, gave me the Benadryl and steroids, and immediately came back with the Taxol. It's slower on Thursdays so the pharmacists are right on top of things. She asked if I had had any reaction to Taxol the first time I got it, and I told her no. So she just started the infusion at the regular pace and left to call in another patient. About 10 minutes into the treatment I started to feel a major reaction coming on! It felt like a spike was being driven into my lower back, my lungs seemed to shrink and refuse to take in air, and the closest nurse was tending to another patient a few chairs away. I tried to wait until she was done talking to him, but I couldn't stand it anymore, so I raised my hand and said, "Excuse me, I think I'm having a reaction to this medicine." Immediately I was surrounded by 3 nurses, a pharmacist with Benadryl and morphine, and a nurses assistant taking vitals. The morphine took 5 or 10 minutes to work--a very long 5 or 10 minutes--and I was finally able to relax and get a breath again. My nurse went to ask Dr. Montgomery if she should restart the treatment or send me home, and of course he told her to restart it. She did say he felt bad for promising me whip cream and cherries. I wonder how he's going to motivate me to do it next week. So like a lamb to the slaughter I sat there and watched her restart the poisonous drip that had caused me excruciating pain just minutes earlier, but she stayed nearby this time, slowed down the drip, and made sure I was tolerating the medicine before she left, and the morphine and Benadryl got me through. Ironically I didn't take anyone with me this time since I wasn't sure treatment was going to be happening, so no one got to share in my pain.
And today I have an itchy rash all over my body that I have to take more Benadryl for. I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to Taxol, but my doctor seems determined to give it to me. It may be a long 10 weeks!
I need to say thank you to Rachel for the exceptional video tribute she made for my 43rd birthday. It was creative, funny, heartwarming, and professional. You know how much I love gifts that take time and planning, and that project took hours and hours to film and edit. It was great to have so many friends there to watch it with me. It's something I'll treasure and watch again, Rachel. Thank you so much for the tribute!
Thanks to all my friends and family for continuing to support us with meals, laundry and cleaning. It's been invaluable the last few weeks while I've been down. Greg's having a hard time working 12 hour days and then coming home and doing everything I used to do, but it's a great relief to him when he doesn't have to cook dinner or throw in a load of laundry on top of it.
Well, I have to take the Benadryl now, and that's likely to put me to sleep for a few hours, so I'll wrap up for today. This LONG treatment is beating me up, but it helps knowing prayers are being offered on my behalf, people are fasting for me, and sending positive vibrations my way. I'll keep on putting one foot in front of the other, take it one fever or rash at a time, continue to trust my doctor, and eventually get through this.

Taxol is EASY!

I was going to update you last night, but I started the project I've been dreading--going through hundreds of medical bill and insurance statements, figuring out which we've paid, which were overdue, and which were still pending insurance payments, and figuring out how Greg's going to pull that money out of an already struggling business. By the time I done with it all it was about 4 a.m., a little too late to start the blog, but at least now Greg has a better picture of what kind of money we're talking. He will also be happy to know I am done with the Neupogen shots and their hefty price tag. I ended up administering 47 shots, and our cost after insurance had paid their 2/3rds was a $3,500 give or take a few dollars. Maybe we should have risked infection and taken the kids to Hawaii instead. Or furnished a few rooms. Or bought everyone in the family a new wardrobe. But 47 shots in the abdomen was kind of fun, and I stayed pretty infection free for those first 15 weeks. Go white blood cells!


Now that you feel sufficiently sorry for Greg's lot in life, I have a treatment day to tell you about. My friend for the treatment this week was Stephanie Searle, and she got to share with me the transition from awful Adria to delightful (so they tell me) Taxol. Stephanie had enlisted her kids, Kendra and Kim especially, to take care of Tadman while we were at treatment. Thank you Kendra, Kim, and Taylor for taking such good care of Tadman for me. I know he had fun because he was sleeping like a baby when we returned!


Stephanie was familiar with MSTI because her grandma had been treated there a few years back for pancreatic cancer. We found a place in the tiny parking lot (Hurrah!), checked in, and I dragged Stephanie over to the latest puzzle. Stephanie said she was into 200 piece puzzles and not 1000 piece puzzles, but she was kind enough to humor me by participating even though her heart was not completely in it. (We're definitely putting a puzzle table up in that bonus room when we start using it. Then I can be up there supervising and doing puzzles when my kids are watching movies and playing video games with their posses.) Of course the puzzle making never lasts long, because they always come and tell me I need to get my blood draw, then the minute I return I get called to wait in the doctor's examination room, where I wait a long, long time, then see the doctor, get back to the puzzled for seconds, then go to chemo. So Stephanie only had probably 10 minutes total of puzzle building to put up with. This ends the puzzle rant for the week.

So when we were actually with the doctor, after the long wait (you will be happy to hear that my weight and blood counts were not alarming this week), I got to hear how much happier I was going to be on these Taxol treatments I was beginning this week. When I asked what symptoms to expect I was told hair loss was possible! Shocking! Also I may have some loss of sensation in my fingertips and toes, perhaps a metallic taste in my mouth, and a little fatigue. I hope I don't lose my hair! I've got some serious regrowth occurring.
After seeing the doctor and hearing how "easy" this Taxol business is going to be, I was a little surprised when the nurse administering the Taxol started explaining the protocol she'd be following. Intead of anti-nausea drugs, with Taxol they start you out with a bunch of Benadryl and stomach acid reducers (I can't remember which particular brand right now), then they wait for your body to really ingest the Benadryl, because they worry about allergic reactions to the Taxol. While waiting for the Benadryl, the nurse gets the oxygen ready, brings a mask for resuscitation, and tells you possible reactions you should tell her about should you experience them. While all this is going on I'm thinking, "This sounds easy." The nurse kept assuring me there was no need to worry. They could almost always control the allergic reactions with more Benadryl, and the few times the reaction has been severe, the rescue team from the hospital has responded quickly enough that resuscitation didn't take place at MSTI, but at the hospital. The doctor failed to describe these possible allergic reactions during my examination. Curious.
The good news is Stephanie got out of there without having to watch me go into cardiac arrest. I actually didn't have any extreme reactions to the Taxol, although the Benadryl did make me a little drowsy. Stephanie was brave enough to stick by me through all these warnings of adversity, and let me borrow her phone to call Rachel and ask her to deliver kids places as the afternoon slipped away. The Taxol is a longer process because of the wait time for the Benadryl and because it is administered by the drip whereas Adria is injected into the line connected to the port and takes only a few minutes to administer.
It is now Wednesday, I'm on the third attempt to get this blog written, and so far, I feel about the same as I did on the Adria. I am hoping the side effects I'm still experiencing (particularly the very sore bottom and feet) are residual effects and will go away over time. I look forward to the day when I don't feel like crying every time I have to go to the bathroom, and the skin on the bottom of my feet no longer peels off in big sheets and leaves the soles very sensitive and painful to the touch. I also look forward to the day, although it might adversely effect the weight loss, when I look forward to eating a meal instead of approaching a meal like a necessary dose of medicine.
After all the excitement of a possible cardiac arrest, Stephanie and her daughter, Justine, took me to Donny Mac's Trailer Park Cuisine. It was my first time, and I was favorably impressed. They have a great patio with misters, a cool college hang-out vibe, and their booth benches have wheels on them so you can get as close or as far away as you need to be from the table depending on the girth of your belly and the length of your arms. The food was even pretty good. It's very nice to have lunch with friends to look forward to each Monday after treatment. Thank you Stephanie, and all my other companions, for taking the time to come with me to lunch after already taking several hours for treatment. And thanks to your families for sacrificing all you could do for them in that time you are away. The staff at MSTI is very favorably impressed with my constantly changing, but always kind and supportive string of companions. They can't believe how many friends I have! Neither can I.
I will have to ask my friend Jesse McOmber about running marathons, since I've never even considered doing such a crazy thing, but I imagine along the way you encounter many battles with yourself. You probably wonder if your will to complete the race can overcome the pain your body must experience along the way. I'm sure there are hard miles, and easier miles when those endorphins kick in, and then hard miles again when the drain of energy overcomes the endorphin rush. As I am not a marathoner it's hard to know if this long long chemotherapy course can be compared to a marathon, but I certainly am experiencing those ups and downs, those moments of confidence and then self-doubt, and sometimes, and more and more often as treatment goes on, discouragement in my own weaknesses, my shortcomings as a mother and friend and wife, my self-absorbedness, my inability to get beyond my own concerns and on to the problems of others. I am tired of accepting help and settling for missed appointments and a grubby house and an imperfect yard and everything else that comes with being less than I used to be. If you're wondering why I cry at church a lot some days, that's usually why. I'm thinking about my ever diminishing capacities and my human frailty, and doing a little wallowing in it. I realize this just shows a greater weakness. I know this just means I have not yet accepted that I don't matter that much in the big scheme of things, that the Lord was in control before I got cancer, He is now, and He will be after the treatment is over. I don't know why I am unable to completely drop my burdens at His feet and why I insist upon struggling against things I have no control over. Maybe this experience is to break my will at last, but, oh, it is hard for me to give up my illusion of control! I think maybe it is because I feel passionately about things, like my kids, and I think they'll perceive I don't care as much if I let go. I don't know. I'm still trying to figure things out as I put one foot in front of the other each day.

I traditionally end my blog by thinking about my blessings, and I think it's a good way to end. I am thankful for fireworks--the big ones at the community Fourth of July celebrations. Whenever I see them I feel the wonder and excitement of childhood all over again, especially when I'm holding my 2-year-old and seeing his reaction to them for the first time. He was sure they were going to get in his shoes! I am thankful for ice cream, which somehow tastes good no matter what ails you. I am thankful for summertime, and the different pace and feel it has, the variety and break in routine it provides that in the end makes you excited for its conclusion and the establishment of routine once again. It's just the right length of time to be creative and loose before buckling down again in the fall. I am thankful that my husband has not abandoned me even though I have moved from the asset to the liability column in his life. I know I am one more drain on those ever dwindling resources and I appreciate his sense of duty and honor that keeps him going to the salt mines six days a week while I do very little of anything at home, and I am hugely grateful to the dozens of friends and family trying to pick up my slack. I am thankful that my kids have activities like scout camp, girls' camp, high adventure, and football workouts to give them a sense of purpose this summer since I can't give them the activities and structure I normally provide.

Happy Birthday to my brother, John, on the third of July. He and his wife sent me a lovely bouquet of flowers on my birthday and I did nothing for him, but I did remember his birthday and think about him on that day, and I am very grateful for him and his family and my association with them.

Lastly, to all of you who continue to provide meals, companionship during treatments, cleaning, laundry service, yard clean-up, cards, uplifting thoughts, and prayers on behalf of my family and me, thank you. I know it must be hard to sign up for a meal when you've brought three already or to come clean again, or to watch Tadman on that endless treatment day, but I want you to know you are really holding a family on the edge together. I don't think we'd be intact without your help. And although I know Justine doesn't read my blog, please tell her I mentioned how grateful I am to her for the loving attention she is giving to Tadman as she teaches him to swim several days a week, and how she keeps those sign-up sheets traveling around until all the needs have been met, and how she fills any spot that hasn't been taken. She is a genuine, lovely person inside and out. Thank you Kimberly and Kendra for the loving care you gave Tadman while your mom was with me at treatment this week! I want you all to know how very humbled I am accepting all this help. It is really hard for me, in fact I think about calling Justine and telling her we don't need any more meals or cleaning every week, but in spite of my discomfort in accepting it, I do appreciate it. Thank you.

Surprise! You Lost All Your Blood Cells!

Tuesday has somehow become official blogging day, so here's the latest.
Treatment started early yesterday. My appointment was at 8:15, but since there were a few breaks in communication between Justine, who graciously arranges companions and babysitting for me, and Melinda, the prearranged companion, and me, we left Melinda's house a little after 8, and after running into road work on Chinden and detouring to State, I ended up getting there at about 8:40. Good news is, at MSTI they generally treat cancer patients like gold no matter how late they are for their appointments!
Puzzle making time was all too brief again. Melinda got a little extra in while I was having my port accessed and blood drawn. That only takes about 10 minutes, so it doesn't really require a companion's company or conversation.
Just a few minutes after I arrived back at the puzzle table I was called in to see the nurse practitioner. On the way in I got weighed and had lost 7 pounds which was no big deal, but I was excited about it because I had held pretty steady since the first few weeks of treatment when I lost about 8 or so. Apparently most people gain 10 pounds on chemo because of the steroids given to prevent nausea during the infusion portion of the appointment. So even though you'd expect to lose a lot of weight because of hating food and feeling sick and all, surprisingly one more benefit of treatment is weight gain. Yeah! So anyway, I had sent Melinda to the room early so I wouldn't suffer the humiliation of being weighed in front of her, but no sooner was I settled into the room with Melinda, the nurse who weighed me stuck her head in and said, "Do you realize you lost 7 pounds this week? Last week you weighed blah-blah-blah, and this week you weigh blah-blah-blah." So I said I did realize that, and thanked her, and Melinda graciously just played it cool and didn't say "You weigh what?" or anything. Thanks, Melinda.
The next bit of excitement was when the nurse practitioner came in and said she didn't know what to do, and perhaps she'd have my blood draw redone. The lab had provided her with the breakdown of my blood counts, and it was showing I had a huge drop off of platelets, and zero white blood cells. She was trying to figure out how I could look the same and feel the same as last week and have my blood work so dramatically different at the same time. Just as I was getting up to get a redraw, the error was discovered. Later at infusion the nurse told me what had happened. The lab workers have lots and lots of tests to run quickly, and because of this they sometimes don't have the official lab labels made to put on the individual vials of blood. These labels have your name and birth date and all your specific information so the samples won't be mixed up in the lab. When my draw was taken the lab labels weren't ready, so the nurse followed the established protocol and put pre-prepared patient labels on my vials of blood instead. They contain the same information of the lab labels, but aren't "official" so as I understand it, when those samples come to the lab the lab technicians put the "official" lab labels over the unofficial patient labels. Well, as luck would have it, at the same moment my vials of blood were submitted to the lab, another patient's "official" labels were laid right next to the vials, the lab technician assumed the vials and labels went together so without double checking put the "official" labels of the other patient on top of my unofficial labels, then put the official labels with my name on the other patient's blood samples. So the bad results were his, but they came up on my chart because they were labeled with my name. So in the end I didn't get out of my chemo or anything. The funniest part was the nurse in the chemo suite desperately trying to figure out how to get the bad sample report off my chart before Dr. Montgomery saw it. Apparently she's noticed how cranky he gets when his computer is messed up also.
So it was kind of an exciting day, although the actual infusion was much as it always is, except for the variety of Melinda, which made it different and interesting, of course.
After picking up a refill at the pharmacy and yet another variety of stool softener to try in the endless and futile quest for normal bowel function, we were off to lunch. We tried a Vietnamese/Thai place in the same strip mall I described last week where The Idaho Fry Company also makes its home. They had some good lunch combination deals and I got some delicious spicy chicken that came with fried rice and cha gio, a kind of crispy egg roll that you wrap in lettuce and dip in a delicious clear sauce. Melinda ordered some fresh rolls and Mandarin chicken, and we both had enough to take home for later. All this action and we were done by about 12:15!
Monday afternoons are busy, busy at our house for some reason, and this was no exception. Immediately after saying goodbye to Melinda I had to pick Kate up from swimming lessons, then Taddy up from Charity's house (sweet Justine had picked him up at my house, dressed him, and dropped him off for me since I wasn't sure where he was supposed to go when I left for treatment). We all got home just in time to take Hunter and Rachel to a dental cleaning, then leave them there to take Kate to piano. On the ride to piano Tadman fell asleep in the car, so back at the dentist's office I opened the windows and sat in the car with him to make sure he didn't get too hot, then took Hunter home to meet up with some friends, went back to pick Kate up, then finally picked Rachel up back at the dentist. Hunter discovered he needs to have his wisdom teeth extracted right away, and our dentist referred him to a specialist because the wisdom teeth have grown so close to the nerves it will be tricky to take them out. He needs to do it right away so he'll be all healed up before contact football season begins a couple of weeks into August. This summer's going to be more eventful than I thought!
Generously Greg brought home a couple pizzas and an ice cream cake so I wouldn't have to cook and the kids could sing "Happy Birthday" to me. It ended up being just Tadman and Kate and Greg and I, as Hunter and Rachel were with friends and Parker had left for boy scout camp early that morning, but Tadman sang beautifully! I can't figure out where he learns all the songs he knows, but he seems to know them all. So everyone ate in shifts watched a few pointless tv shows and went to bed.
Most of you know it was my birthday last weekend, Saturday, and for those who wonder I turned 43. Greg rented a cabin up at Tamarack for Friday and Saturday night, so he left work early and we headed up there in the afternoon. Since Tamarack has been seized by the bank, there are some great rental deals available. And these are beautiful homes with views, deluxe bathrooms, big decks with fireplaces, and hot tubs. Of course, you are pretty much all alone up there, and none of the amenities are available--even the golf course is closed--but it's definitely picturesque. While we were up there we went to dinner in McCall, we drove to Warm Lake and walked around, we drove a little past it to the summit right above, saw a little campground no one was using so decided to get out and try to get a little better view of the valley below, but once out of the car got completely swarmed by mosquitoes, so went screaming back to the car and had to settle for the view we got from the car on the way back. We had some lunch at the Whistle Stop Cafe in Cascade, looked at the property we own in Donnelly, and spent the late evening in the hot tub looking at the great big starry sky and all the satellites in orbit. We had a chance to talk for the first time in a long time, which was good, but difficult because we have a lot going on right now and the talks are pretty big and meaty.
All in all it was nice to get away for a little while, nice to relax, nice to have time to do things like clip my toenails, watch HGTV in peace, and enjoy the change of pace. Thanks Greg, for making arrangements and taking me. I'm glad we went.
Brenda tells me I need to thank Becky and Jamie for the birthday lunch at Costa Vida last week, so thanks Becky and Jamie. I thought that was all Brenda's doing. Thanks to the Ablemans for the flowers and the cookies, to my brother John and his wife Michelle for the adorable bouquet of flowers that came this morning, to my sister Heidi for the card, and to the members of my water aerobics class who continue sending cards of support my way. I thank Rachel for watching our kids and keeping our house under control while we were gone, and to Heather for keeping Tadman and Kate on Saturday when the older kids had things going on. Thanks for the ongoing support and help of all my family and friends through this long, long process. I am glad you have the determination to keep going and going. I've said it before, but this is definitely a marathon, not a sprint. On to taxol!

Treatment Day is a Delight With Ashley!

I can't believe I missed reporting a treatment day. I'm becoming a very lazy blogger, indeed. Here's the recap.
Unfortunately, because I asked for a slightly later treatment time 2 weeks ago so I would be able to take Kate to early morning swimming lessons, this week they snuck in an afternoon treatment time, so I didn't even start until 12:15! My niece, Ashley, the one who works as an OR nurse at St. Luke's and arranged everything so nicely for me when I had my gall bladder and port surgery was able to come with me since she has quit her regular job to join her husband soon. He has been doing basic training for the Air Force in San Antonio, Texas, and will be graduating early next week. They will be stationed at Biloxi, Mississippi after that, but she still doesn't know when she and her sweet toddler, Leah, will be able to join her husband, Tyler. Anyway, that was the long explanation of why she was able to come with me yesterday, and it was certainly a treat for me to have her.
I picked her up, because she is living with her parents for her last few weeks in Boise and their house is in south east Boise, fairly near the hospital. We were planning to get lunch before treatment, but I was late, as is my custom, so we had to amend those plans a bit. Since I have been doing chemo, some things that used to be fairly easy have become fairly complicated, and one of those things is bill paying. What used to take me a couple of hours one day a month now drags out for a week or more. I find it almost impossible to stay awake long enough to balance the checkbook, go through the old receipts in my wallet and match them up to the bank and credit card statements, write the checks, put the stamps and address labels on the envelopes, and put the rubber band wrapped bundle in a mail box, so I do a little bit one day, like get everything together that I need, then take a nap. The next day I go through the bank statement, then I take a little nap, the next day I match up the receipts, then nap, the next night I write a couple checks, and you get the idea. Therefore, I have to start this process much earlier than I used to or risk the dreaded late fees. So the reason I was late to pick up Ashley, which is the point of this whole bill paying tirade, is because my property tax bill had to be postmarked on Monday, so I had to go to the bank to get money in and make sure my accounts were all in order, and then get that darn property tax bill into the post office safely. Mission accomplished. If you ever want to hear the story of the year I forgot to put postage on my property tax bill, and the angst associated with that dreadful mistake, I will be happy to tell you about it.
So I picked her up, and she was dutifully waiting right outside ready to go, so even though I was very late, we got to the clinic only a few minutes past appointment time. The afternoon was very quiet in comparison to the morning, especially the chemo suite where the blood draws and the infusions are done. Ashley and I dutifully worked on a puzzle while we waited, and I've got to say I was in the zone for once. I was finding just the right pieces with very little trial and error. I'd probably placed a dozen pieces before they called me in to draw blood, and that was only about 5 minutes after we arrived. For me, that's phenomenal puzzle building.
As usual now, there was no trouble with the port access and smooth sailing with the blood draw. Ashley and my nurse talked a little shop while the draw was in process, and that was fun to listen to--a little nurse lingo. In no time we were back at the puzzle having fun, only to be ripped away again to see the doctor. Of course there's no waiting in the lobby, where it's comfortable and nice to be, and then there's always lots of waiting when you're sitting on the little bed with the crunchy paper on it in the exam rooms where there's only really old magazines you've read the last 10 times you were waiting for the doctor and a few wildlife pictures and pictures of the clinic's doctors on a bulletin board and the four walls and the sink and the cupboards and a door and a blood pressure cuff and not much else to look at. That's where all the good long waiting happens ironically. Luckily Ashley was there to save me from lonely boredom because the doctor probably was behind since it was the afternoon so he was much slower than usual. When Ashley met him she was impressed with his computer screen staring and his evil chemist wrinkly-eyed smile, and his total absorption in his calculations of exactly how much toxin he could prescribe to kill cancer cells without killing his patient. After he decided he was off without so much as a stethoscope coming in contact with any part of my body. He could tell just by looking at my blood counts that I was the picture of health and vitality.
Only moments after arriving back in the nicely appointed lobby with a fountain and windows and juices and comfy couches, I was called in to infusion. The chemo suite, where infusion happens, is also a pleasant room and the chairs are definitely chosen with comfort in mind. Everything went quickly there, since there were still several nurses available and very few patients for them to attend to.
After treatment, Ashley steered me in the direction of a new place in that little pink strip mall on Broadway right near the hospital. One of the surgical supply reps had recommended a new place called the Idaho Fry Company. They serve burgers, sodas, milkshakes, and 6 or 7 different kinds of fries. You can choose sweet potato fries, yam fries, Yukon gold fries, russet fries, white potato fries--you get the picture. Then they have different sauces and seasonings for the fries and different cuts, like curly or homestyle, and they cook them in healthy oils and all that kind of thing. Very chic. Big city fries. It was pretty good, but although I don't love all their food, nobody has fries as good as McDonalds. On certain kinds of foods, like fries, why mess with success? The hamburgers were much better than McDonalds, however. And Ashley is so delightful food tastes better in her company.
I was sad when I had to take her home at the end of the day, but although Rachel had taken Kate to swimming and piano for me, I still had some movies to return and a little grocery shopping to do. I have failed to mention that much of this time Tadman was at Melissa's house being well tended. Unfortunately, we had a little failure to communicate between Greg and I, so I thought Tadman was already picked up, but actually he was at Melissa's still all during my errands, so he was there a long long time before I finally came to get him when I realized he wasn't home after grocery shopping. Thank you, Melissa, for putting up with the boy all afternoon and into the evening. He must have played hard, because he was pretty tired when he got home!
Only one more Adria treatment until I move on to Taxol! According to reports by my doctor and nurse the symptoms with Taxol are much less severe. Of course, my doctor may say next week that it was 20 doses of Adria, not 15 that he scheduled, but I hope not. That would be very bad news.
As usual, I have many acts of kindness to report this week. Many of the ladies in the 9 o'clock water aerobics class I've been going to, but have missed the last few weeks because of swimming lessons, have written me cards and letters of encouragement. It has been very uplifting to get one or two of them in the mail each day. I love how they sign them with their name, and then their usual spot at the pool, such as "Love, Anne (lap lane closest to diving board)". I hope to get back to class soon to thank them. We're still getting great meals, Carrie Nielson brought me a perfectly beautiful pink rose in full bloom, Laurie Gabrielsen took me on an excursion to the temple and bought me a smoothie and lunch afterwards, and just today Brenda bought me lunch at Costa Vida and then she and Stuart packed up our bikes and bike trailer and took Kate, Tadman, and me on a bike ride on the Greenbelt, and bought us an ice cream at Dairy Queen after. Isn't that nice? Kate had a great time riding her little bike a million rotations a minute and then running out of steam and stopping for multiple water breaks. Every time Tadman would wiggle out of the bike trailer and Stuart would round him up and strap him back in again. My long suffering sister is still helping with laundry several times a week. I've missed seeing my mom the last few times, but she's still helping with that job. I know that's a sacrifice for my sister's whole family, because time spent doing my laundry means time she can't do her own. Please forgive me if you've done something nice for me and I've failed to mention it. I have so many people do things for me that sometimes I can't remember them all when I write, but please know how much I appreciate everything each of you do. With all this support, I just might make it through this long, long process. I'm really enjoying the summer, the kids, the yard, and the varied and mostly cool spring weather. All in all, life is pretty good with my biggest disappointment being myself and my own human frailty. Endurance is the key, and we'll see if I have it.

How to Raise Active, Healthy Children, Cure Cancer, and Make the World A More Beautiful Place in 24 Hours or Less!

Monday! Swimming lessons! Treatment! Piano lessons! Group therapy! Dinner! Planting flowers! And I'm exhausted.
Kate is taking swimming lessons bright and early last week and this. She starts at 8:45 and goes till 9:15. I like getting her going early and starting her day with something that gets her a little exercise and a sense of accomplishment. She's already a very good swimmer and in the advanced class with kids a couple of years older than she is. She needs those swimming skills for the times Parker plays rough with her and dunks her in our pool, you know.
I got home from swimming with just enough time to put a little numbing cream on my port site, give the kids a few assignments, and be off for treatment, this week with my friend, Sarah Nokleby. We were on time, there was a parking space, there was a good puzzle to finish--the one Justine and I started a few weeks ago. Everything seems to go great on treatment day, other than getting the treatment and feeling sickly for the rest of the week.
I saw the nurse practitioner instead of the doctor today. I'm not sure if he was out or just busy. She's always very nice to me and empathetic and gives me a thorough exam. There's not much new to tell. She prescribed the same dose of chemo as last week, so I elected to keep the steroid dosage reduced. She felt sad that my feet are bugging me so much and encouraged me to take more Prevacid to keep the stomach acid at bay, and a fiber supplement to regulate the digestive system, etc. etc. This is why you should never take prescription drugs unless ABSOLUTELY necessary. They mess up your system so much you need to take all these other remedies to combat the side-effects of the drugs. That's why I used to be a 4 Tylenol a year girl. Those were the days!
Chemo was nothing special except for conversation with Sarah, a more quiet, laid back atmosphere because of the later starting time, and my pick of the chairs. It's always very cool to get your favorite chair.
Sarah and I enjoyed lunch at Red Robin after chemo--always a good old reliable, I think--and then got back to our homes and kids. Sarah's kids had called her about 8 times during our stay at MSTI, so I know they were anxious to see her. I had to get back to get kids places and make sure Kate got home safely from piano lessons.
Mondays are go, go, go days for me, and once I got home I had to get Parker to a group session he's doing at the office of the counselor he's been seeing. He's not very gung-ho about the whole group therapy idea, and today did nothing to change his mind. They had a giant slip and slide, but they did it with their clothes on and they all had to do it to the doctor's specifications, like all the kids had to slide all the way from one end to the other. This turned out to be very difficult for Parker, so in the end the other kids decided the best solution for ending group would be to drag Parker across. Parker didn't like that very much so he was a little chapped. The whole point of this group is to get kids to deal with adverse situations, lots of stimulation, lots of other kids and their hyperactive tendencies, and teach them to learn strategies to get through it all appropriately. For 12 to 14 year-old boys with a variety of social issues this is much more difficult than it sounds. So Parker needed a good long time on the way home and in the garage after to get himself balanced again. I am hoping all this helps him when he has to deal with a new school year and all the chaos that comes with it.
While Parker was decompressing, and Rachel was dealing with a troubled friend, I was trying to figure out how I was going to get dinner, plant flowers, pay bills, and write a blog. We ended up getting take-out from Costa Vida, I got the flowers planted, I'm getting the blog done, but the dang bills are going to have to get done tomorrow.
If you're curious, last week was better for me emotionally than the week before. I wasn't nearly as despondent. I am hoping it has to do with the lower dose of steroid and it will continue this week. That way I can enjoy the very full, rich life I have with a husband and 5 kids, a cat, a gecko, a bunny, and assorted friends, musical instruments, an XBox Live, and a pool.
Thanks to my mother-in-law, Dee, and her husband, Ron, who spent several days last week getting our overgrown yard trimmed and cleaned up and all the resultant debris and trimmings taken to the dump. What a huge job that was! They also entertained Tadman while they worked and kept him last night and today while I was at treatment. I think "thank you" is an understatement after all that. I'll just have to return the favor sometime in the future when I'm back in full contact gardening shape. You may have to wait until next summer. Thank you to Heather and my mom for picking up laundry again today. Heather fell ill last week and skipped a few of her regular times and I tried to do a few loads on my own and I'm already even more pathetic at laundry than I used to be. That is a great service to me! I got a card of encouragement today from my water aerobics instructor, I think because I've been skipping to take Kate to swimming lessons. It's so nice of her to be concerned about me. And thanks to everyone who brought meals in last week and cleaned on Friday morning. I know many of you have done 2 or even 3 meals now, and many of you have cleaned multiple times. I appreciate you sticking with me through the marathon this treatment will be before I'm done. They gotta make sure they kill all those bad cells along with the good, ya know. All the service you are doing certainly makes a difference to me. I will try to be worthy of it by being good to my family and by doing my best to endure this chemo cheerfully.

Doctor Says What???

The photo is just a little reminiscence of the good old days. I felt pretty lively the day Becky took these--about a thousand years ago in chemo time.

It's late and I need to sleep, but I had to talk treatment day. It's now the official high point of the week.

Camille Miller picked me up at 8:15 (or maybe a little earlier even) and had to wait for me. I was doing my hair! Greg took Tadman to Melissa's house to play with her kids while I was gone. It takes a load off my mind to have him watched when I'm away for a long time since my kids are in and out all day and I'm never sure if they'll designate another sibling in charge before leaving. Thank both of you for volunteering for hard duty today!

Camille and I were getting lucky right from the get go this morning. There was still a parking space in the MSTI lot, we got to start a brand new puzzle, and treatment was expeditious (is that a word?) as usual. The port was accessed easily, the doctor didn't make me wait, he was in a good mood and lowered my dosage of chemo because of bad feet even, all was well, then BAM! The hitch! This was my twelfth adria administration, in my mind my twelfth and last, but unfortunately in my doctor's mind it was the twelfth of FIFTEEN. How did that happen? That means 3 more treatments, more of those super expensive Neupogen shots, and 4 more weeks of bad symptoms.

Off to infusion and I had the sympathetic ear of my nurse. I told her about my downer of a week, and about how I thought it was a side effect of the steroid, and she talked to the pharmacist and got my dosage reduced. This might, however, lead to more nausea and stomach problems, but that may be better than the despondency. And I get to experiment this week and find out which is worse. At least no one has to hold my hair for me if I start throwing up.

So treatment day wrapped up. Don't worry about the puzzle. Camille got the edges all ready for the next puzzle efficienado while I was with the doctor. My doc had scribbled me out a scrip--I though for Neupogen--so Camille and I dropped it off, then had some lunch at the Brick Oven Bistro on the patio while waiting for it to be filled. The food, the atmosphere, and the company were great. When we went back for the prescription there was another surprise. The prescription he'd given me was a completely new subscription, a medicine to prevent ulcers (are you kidding me? I have to worry about ulcers now?) and he didn't tell me anything about it or why he wrote it for me or when to start taking it or anything. The instructions say I'm supposed to take it four times a day on an empty stomach, either an hour before or 2 to 3 hours after eating. Can someone tell me how I'm supposed to work that in when I HAVE to take food with the other medicines I take? I'm going to need a personal assistant to figure that out. Oprah could do it.

I didn't have much time to wonder because Kate had to get to a piano lesson and Parker to a group session at the clinic I'm taking him to, so it was back in the car. When I got home Hunter and his friends were jamming in the living room. We've got a lot of stuff hooked up in there. How did they manage to turn my living room into a recording studio when I was gone only a few hours? After a jam session you need a little pizza, Hunter let me know, so we got them fed and practiced and they threw a few water balloons and went on their way. I don't know about having all that gear in my living room, but other than that I'm thrilled to have them, and they're pretty good! If they keep coming I'm going to make them watch "The History of Rock and Roll" for inspiration. We'll have a little School of Rock right here.

It was hours ago we wrapped all that up, so I better wrap this up. As you can probably tell, in spite of the bad news at the doctor, I'm in much better spirits today. The steroid works well the first couple of days before crushing my spirit, so I'm going to do all I can to enjoy my early week before it turns on me.

Special thanks to everyone making comments after yesterday's blog. It HELPS A LOT knowing you all feel my pain and will do all you can to carry me through it. So Sarah, this is for you. Tonight "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!" Tomorrow, of course, may bring a retraction of that statement.

I Blame the Aliens

I keep waiting to feel any kind of inspiration to write, and it's not happening, so I'll write anyway in the hope that it will come to me as I go.
Having never done cancer treatment before, I am not sure if what I'm experiencing at this point in the course of things is typical or not. My old roller coaster ride has gone flat, not at the peak, but at the valley, or maybe below the valley in the underground caverns, and I'm just down there now, noticing how different I've become, not seeing my blessings, but only my weaknesses which are growing exponentially. It really feels like my body is dying from the extremities in--the tips of my fingers and the bottoms of my feet and much of my brain seem dead already. I don't even recognize myself. The first time Rachel and I went to MSTI we looked at the frail, pale skinned, bald patients and wondered what I was doing there. Now I fit right in.
I am so tired of my weaknesses, my huge limitations, my ineffectiveness as a mother, my powerlessness as a woman and homemaker. I realize probably a lot of these feelings are the drugs--maybe even all of them, but in my weakened state I feel more like rolling over and going comatose than like battling the demons.
Having my kids home with me isn't inspiring the happy togetherness I was unrealistically looking forward to. Surprisingly, like every other summer, the period of adjustment to summer is ripe with conflict and turmoil and increased disorganization and messiness. There's a lot of "he took my i-pod" and "I don't want her to swim with us" and "my friends think he's weird". None of it is really unexpected or different that other summers, but I feel so different, I thought that would rub off on my family.
So I'm going to dig deep here to think of some good things that happened this week. I loved the thunder, lightning and rain. Weather like that is spectacular, and rain in Boise--always good. I enjoyed working in my yard for a half hour here and there this week. To me nothing is more satisfying and therapeutic than yard work. I had a lovely nap with Tadman this week, and that almost never happens any more. I enjoyed the Saturday morning breakfast for Janet Caufield's birthday. It was good to see Julie Brann before she left and to be with friends on a Saturday morning. It was fun to see Kate playing with her friend Andrew Hill before he moves to Virginia. They had such a good time together and played so contentedly. It was good to have Rachel come home from Legacy yesterday afternoon and suggest that she and I go to dinner and a movie together. We had Thai food at the Pad Thai House, the best Thai food in Boise, had dip cones at Fanci Freeze, the best dip cones in Boise, and then went to "The Soloist" at the Flicks, almost certainly not the best movie playing in Boise, but Rachel's company is always a treat.
Please know that I continue to be grateful for the physical, emotional, moral, and spiritual support I get from family and friends on a daily basis. If I seem less appreciative, please remember I am not myself, hopefully not even close to myself, and that I hope the aliens return me to my body someday. Or maybe they have my body--I'm not sure how that works.