Engineering and other triumphs!

Two pieces of good news. First, my white cell count is back to normal! This means I'm not at increased risk of infection and is a sign of things moving in the right direction. Second, my drainagew kits arrived. However, as I feared, having used the wrong kit over the weekend damaged my drain. When I connected it to the new drainage kits, nothing came out. Worst case, this could mean having to replace the catheter (more surgery? No thank you.) But I have not lived in a family of engineers this long for nothing. And I kept hearing Steve's voice in my head saying "Babe, you are super smart. You are very good at this kind of thing. " So, the way I figured it was this. The connector for the wrong kit did work. It was an inch long plastic needle that I shoved into the catheter valve (pushing its innard backward to make it a two-way valve.) Problem was, when the tube/needle was removed, it had become a one-valve the wrong way, like pushing a lobster trap in on itself. After a few false starts that involved cutting my finger with a razor blade, I sacrificed the wrong kit, cut off the needle bit and shoved it in place to see if it would work as an adaptor. Eureka! Yellow fluid started gushing down into the bag, victory dance, yahoo! So now we just have to hold onto the little plastic bit, soak it in alcohol to keep clean, and hope it holds out until I no long need the catheter. That's it for now!

Sweet consolations...

Colin left Friday afternoon, right after I got back from my wonderful oncology massage. I was totally relaxed, sad to see him go and grateful for a really nice week with my little brother. We hadn't spenr that kind of time together since we were kids and we got along very well. He is a big animal lover, so Butters got another fan. He was a great caregiver and companion. Such a nice opportunity that came out of this mess. It was interesting being on my own for a half day. In the end, it was fine, but I realize how spoiled I've gotten in having someone around to walk Butters and get things for me when its so hard to move without pain. It makes me grateful that my family has insisted on my being accompanied throughout this time. At around 10:30 p.m., my friends arrived. They had managed to coordinate themselves to arrive from Boston, San Francisco and Jersey into one rental car. I can't even begin to tell how great it was to have them here. I've known Kristen, Susan and Bridget since we moved to Andover, CT when I was 3. Jacqueline joined the party when we all went to the regional junior high at age 12. So, we knew each other when. We started by getting into bathing suits and taking Butters out to the pool, where he isn't allowed. We happened to encounter the man who had just turned out the torches. He apologized and told me the dog wasn't allowed. I smiled and said "I know," at which he shrugged and left. I have changed. I think it can be filed under "things you finally realize you can't control," and I find I just don't seem to care as much how people think of me. While I can see why they have the rule, I can also see why it works best if not well enforced. If someone cares enough to complain, or if others with badly behaved dogs start to bring them in, then I'll put Butters in his crate. Until then, he seems to spread a lot of joy at the pool, as people laugh at his comical greetings and obvious happiness to be there. So we sat on the pool steps (I still can't swim but they did,) in the dark and relative cool (I'd guess around 90 degrees), and started our visit. Not all of us have kept in touch, so we had some catching up to do on families, careers, living arrangements, etc. We had decided to bunk in, despite not having quite enough beds and (to my embarrassment,) blankets. Nonetheless, by midnight, all were settled in under sheets on the beds, aerobed and couch. This is kind of a funny way to entertain. I mean, I had very little in the house ready for them, not even blankets! Yet, they weren't in a mood to complain. It wasn't the point and it was a little weird, a situation in which there isn't a norm to follow. Despite this, or maybe because of it, we had an amazing time. In the morning, Jackie drove all of us to drop me off at acupuncture and they all went out for breakfast. Their massages started at 11 a.m. and I got a kick out of seeing each of them return with the identical rosy, slightly puffy and wide-eyed look of someone just awakenEd from a lovely nap. It was great that the massages forced us to do nothing but hang about all day. One essential trip was made by Kris and Jackie to Bevmo to get the ingredients for Margarita's, prepared by Sue. I took a nap while they sat by the pool and we headed out for dinner at 7. Nobuo was recommended by Kris' friend who lived in Japan as some of the best Japanese food in the country. We couldn't get a reservation but were told we might get into the lounge if we just showed up. We seemed a little late for that, but pressed ahead. I think we all envisioned being crammed into a bar around little tables, rubbing elbows with strangers. When we got there, we were shown right away into a separate room with a leather couch, little ottomans and a coffee table, all to ourselves. The building was turn-of-the-century brick, with 14- foot ceilings, skylight transoms and original woodwork. Settling in with really great cocktails (just sips for me after a Margarita) that tasted tangy and of jasmine tea (only Sue's wasn't great, tasted of soap), we looked over the menu. It's my favorite way to eat, with small dishes meant for sharing. I was content to let everyone else order and, with a total of 11 small dishes for the 5 of us, our feast started to arrive. What a totally perfect evening. The food was fantastic, interesting, fresh, yummy. My favorites were a watermelon salad with chèvre, soft shell crab salad and sea bass with enoki and morel mushrooms that just melted in your mouth. We split the only two desserts on offer, an incredibly smooth chocolate mousse with green tea ice cream (perfect) and almond beignets with caramel sauce and ice cream (divine.). Lots of laughs, love, photo-taking and the perfect amount of fabulous food. It helped that I was on oxycodone for the pain, I'm sure! Sunday morning was rough for me. The antibiotic and niacinamide I take make me nauseous and I have to be super-careful how I manage it with anti-emetics and eating enough. I was sloppy and paid the price. Hard as it was, it was very sweet to have Sue rub my back as I retched and sobbed over the toilet. It's not just the great times that make you appreciate your friends. Oddly, though I didn't vomit, just the retching seemed to help and I felt ready for our outing. The Heard Museum of Native American art and history was great. Sue was smart enough to suggest a wheelchair and I was smart enough to go for it. After a nice lunch in the cafe, we spent a few hours in the museum. Kris adored the Kachina dolls in particular and Jacqueline, who studied Native American dance, was really psyched to be there. My Mom called to say she'd arrived and we managed to get her into my apartment to wait for us (where she immediately started ironing, bless her heart!) We probably stayed 30 minutes too long because I started feeling a bit desperate for a rest, but I'm really glad we went. When we got back and I had another nap, we headed out to Cafe Barrio for excellent Mexican food, sad and sweet goodbyes and they were off to the airport. Mom and I are having a great time. She came with me to treatment and sat there as I slept. Obviously, visiting did take up some energy, since I slept in the treatment chair from 7:30 to 12:00, right after a good night's sleep! My lung still hurts since I can't drain it fully, but the catheter infection seems less sore. It's nice to have a quiet day, but I am so, so, so happy my friends came out. It was one of the happiest, sweetest times ever, one of the great things that can come only from adversity. Can't say it's worth it, but it's a tremendous consolation. Thanks again!!!!

Hot as...well very hot!

I am lying in the air conditioned cool. It is 109 outside and my body screams "Run away, Run away!" (reference my favorite line in Python' s Holy Grail) as soon as I'm out in it. That said, I did just manage to lie out in the strip of sun on our side porch for a few minutes to try and make some vitamin D. Before that, I had the most wonderful oncology massage. The daughter of the manager here does them for a song for Euromed patients and offers the same intro rate for anyone. So, they are en route and won't see this, but I've signed up all four friends for a massage tomorrow. Hope they like massage as much as I do! Actually, it's my parents paying for this out of the fun money they provided for this visit ( Thanks, Mom and Dad!). Flowers just arrived (for the third time) from Stan and Leanna, my parents-in-law. I adore fresh flowers and appreciate this gift very much. I am resting up in wait for them to arrive this evening. Colin left after a wonderful week of taking good care of me, lots of laughs and love. My Mom arrives Sunday to stay for a week. I am very well taken care of out here! I even got to join Margaret, Joseph and their friends for chili night (Steve's famous chili brings the Bernard's High crowd every time.) What a lovely group of young adults they've turned out to be. As to treatment, I am feeling less fatigued, though not up to much yet. Nausea is manageable. The lung continues to fill and drain, due, I am now convinced after some research Colin did, to all the IV treatment I am getting. I also put on 5 pounds in a day, so I'm clearly hydrated! Thankfully, I have no edema in my limbs ( except for same old left arm post-mastectomy). The vitamin c also apparently causes fatigue, so I assumed that's it. I am a bonehead to have misunderstood about my counts. White blood cells are low and being treated with nupagen. Platelets are fine! Blood draw Monday will tell us more. Finally, the damned catheter got another little infection at the exit site and I was hobbling around and whining for a few days. Ointment did the trick and I feel much better. What a pain, but I'm glad to have it if the vid are going to keep the lung effusion going. The euromed folks said one patient's lung just cleared up with the acupuncture. I am SOOO willing to be stuck with tiny needles if that works for me! Bye for now. Colleen

Hard days and tiny needles...

It's been a hard few days but things are looking up. After a wonderful Thursday through Saturday, I felt lousy on Sunday. Even though we had a wonderful visit with the Tucson family, I had to take a nap. That evening, my lung drained 175 cc after having dipped to 25 the day before. And my platelet count dropped to 1! Plus, I am really fighting nausea. Bad to go backwards. I felt tired all day Monday and Tuesday. Despite my best intentions to stay positive, I found it hard to resist the thoughts that this was all a big exercise in wishful thinking. Of course, it might be. But it's no good to think that way. Today, I feel better, although I still drained 150 cc this evening. I had a meeting with my medical team tgus morning and they made me feel better. Wanda, the doctor in charge of the insulin chemo is convinced I will be just fine. She is unconcerned about the platelets, sure they will go back up with the help of the nupagen shots they are giving me. She sees how robust I still am and feels sure I will do well. There are a number of possible explanations for why I feel lousy. 1. I am being overtaken by the cancer and the treatment isn't working. 2. The vitamin c is making me feel lousy (this is common) 3. What I am feeling is mainly cancer die-off that makes the body feel lousy or 4. Combo of 2 and 3. They seem to think that's the most likely. The other reason for optimism is that the cancer may have stopped advancing, though it's not yet retreating visibly. I am having some pain in the affected area on my chest, which Wanda thinks is is a sign that the chemo is attacking it. I am worried that my lung continues to drain, but they say its too early to be worried. So, what we are doing to do is back off a bit on vitamin c, add an additional treatment with ozone and UVB designed to make me feel better, and go for acupuncture for the nausea and fatigue. I managed to make an appointment today for acupuncture, which I've never had. The doctor was extremely kind. I started the treatment lying down on a massage table in a gown. I always was mystified and intrigued by the idea that you could insert needles, no matter how small, without it hurting. Guess what, you can't! It doesn't hurt much, but it doesn't feel great. Each needle goes in with a tiny prick. In each area, I could feel a reaction, a slight tingling. But my right shin started to really hurt, all of it! I told the doctor, and he removed the needle, saying that, for people with a lot of nausea, this area could be very sensitive. Then he turned on a tape and left me with a nice-smelling eye pad on to meditate and listen. The woman on the tape encouraged me to focus the tones (music played on what sounded like a small gong, cymbals and harp) on various parts of my body. I don't really know what that means but I did find that, by concentrating, I could imagine the music vibrating in the skin of my abdomen, chest, face, etc. Kind of cool. After about 20 minutes, he came back in, removed some of the needles (which also hurts a tiny bit), and did some acupressure on my feet. After more listening to music, he came in and took out the rest of the needles and worked on some pressure points on my head and arms. This felt fine, but worried me a bit when it came to my left arm, where my lymph specialist tells me hard pressure is not good. Then he had me sit up and massaged my shoulders and back. He then applied glass vacuum cups to my back, which are supposed to adjust my chi, and which pinch. I am most skeptical about this process, but have decided it won't harm me and is part of the package. We'll give this process a few weeks and, if it helps, I'll continue. If not, it's another cool experience to add to the adventure. So I feel a bit better and hope we are on a slightly adjusted and better track. I said goodbye to Margaret, who is flying home for week and driving back with my Dad so she has a car to use (too young to drive a rental.) She and I had a wonderful time with my brother Colin, who's still here for a few days. I'm excited that some of my oldest friends, Kristen, Susan, Bridget and Jacqueline arrive tomorrow or the weekend. I hope I'm up to some fun stuff with them but we can all just hang out and talk if that's all I'm up for. Hooray!

Two big days in a row...

Lots of news. After my IV vitamin C treatment yesterday, I felt so good I decided we should drive to Sedona. We headed north around 10 a.m. What a drive! The scenery keeps getting more spectacular as you go. In an hour and a half, we hit red rock desert, stopped to buy hats and get a map at the visitor center and admired the incredible view. Next stop was some chapel. You drive up around the bend but then it's a fairly steep climb around a paved path to the top. I felt like I could make it and did, even under the broiling sun. A bit cooler up there, it was still what a northeasterner would call HOTTT.

On the way up, I glanced at Butters, who was looking very worried. His head turned around pleadingly, hunched over and delicately lifting one paw after the other, the poor thing was being burnt! Steve scooped him up and all was well. After the chapel, we headed up to Sedona itself. The tiny town is quite touristy but not terribly tacky. Steve parked the car while Margaret and I sat in an outdoor cafe under big, yellow umbrellas. Lunch could not have been more perfect. The service was incredibly friendly, the food delicious, the breeze kept it from being too hot, and they provided water for the dog as a matter of course. Mexican food, very fresh and delicious. Yum! We headed farther North to Slide Rock state park. What a blast. Although we couldn't take Butters down to the creek, we took turns and even I managed to do a little sliding on this natural water slide where the creek runs over flat, smooth rocks. The water was 63 degrees and unbelievably refreshing under the hot sun. I can't wait to go back when I have my catheter out! Margaret and Steve were able to slip in and out of the pools and get really wet. Soaked and happy, we headed north yet again to loop up and catch 17 south. On the way, we passed through even more microclimates, including a pine forest that seemed positively Alpine if you didn't open a window. On our way back, we stopped again to show Margaret the cliff dwellings at Montezuma's Castle (I called it Table in error before.) I felt strong enough to walk in with her and see it again. Glad I did.

 We got back to hotel, dressed in a hurry and met Jeff and Dian Weisman for dinner. Jeff was my Master licensee with ActionCOACH and I haven't seen him in ages. They are both wonderful people and we enjoyed a really good Thai meal. Jef and I agreed to get together again before I leave to reminisce and talk over all the stuff that bores everyone else silly.






 The big news for today is that we moved! Thanks to my wonderfully generous in-laws, we are out of our tiny hotel suite and ensconced in a furnished apartment. The only ones in the area are called, accurately LUXURY and we are feeling well and truly pampered! Margaret and I can't wait to use the two pools, spa (very inexpensive massages) free yoga and zoomba classes. Plus, their smallest unit has two bedrooms and bath, so we are much better set up for all the wonderful folks coming to visit and/or look after me. I was starting to feel claustrophobic after just two weeks sharing one room. Even with a suite, there were no walls and nowhere to escape if you couldn't sleep or just wanted space. I feel better already! To see the place, click Video Tour of Sage Apartments

Margaret/Maggie arrives out of the blue....

My platelet count dropped, so they have given me an extra injection this morning and want me on more b vitamins.  With this, plus the antibiotic they’ve added, my biggest challenge is nausea.  I am glad to have the Compazine and Zofran left over from sloan kettering. 

The big development is that Margaret is here.  She decided that she wanted to be here rather than in London doing the internship.  Yesterday, while we were at Staples faxing invoices to the insurance biller, we got a phone call from her saying “I’m at JFK and will be there at 10 tonight.”  Wow!  Fortunately, Ann and Jef (with whom she is doing the London internship,) were not only understanding, but encouraging.  Ann, with her Irish belief that too much hope tempts the Gods, thinks I am definitely dying.  Incredibly generous as always, she put Margaret on the plane.  What a friend! 

We are more positive about my expiration date, but understand how Margaret would want to spend time with me either way.  It’s not clear yet how long she will stay.  She wants to stay all summer but may change her mind if I am doing better, or being here gets too boring and depressing. She’s welcome back in London anytime.  My preference would be for her to be there (not for me, but for her), but she knows her own mind and heart and I respect that.  Plus, it’s great to have her around.  She’s a great caregiver, compassionate but calm and level-headed.  We are invited to Aunt Margaret’s for their annual Father’s Day get-together on Sunday, and it will be nice to finally get the two Margaret’s together and to meet that side of the family.

A story I keep forgetting to tell…the Whopper Junior.  The day I decided to come out here for treatment was not easy.  I knew the process of pulling together my records and sending them here would be anxiety-producing, so I asked Devra to come up and help.  She was a great comfort as we dug through all the paperwork and found the key tests and bloodwork they wanted.  I also had to write a bullet-point summary of my cancer story.  Going through all this again felt like someone had picked up a smelly, filthy lead-lined overcoat out of a dumpster and threw it over my shoulders. It brought me to my knees, with feelings of dread, rage and grief overwhelming me.  By the evening, I was in a foul and fragile mood.  All of a sudden, I announced to Steve, “I want a Whopper Junior!” (At the time, I was still on a vegan diet.)  In two minutes, he had googled the nearest Burger King.  My inner two-year-old in charge, I replied “Forget it, it won’t help.”  He, wise man, just waited.  A minute more, and I said grouchily, “Okay, let’s go.”  Driving through the dark, I just let go of any dignity or reserve and wailed. I keened in fear and rage, an inchoate protest that doesn’t hope to be heard and doesn’t care.  Finally, I took a deep breath.  Shakily, but firmly, I said “Okay.”  Pause.  “Okay.” And it was.  We got to the restaurant, Steve ran in and, in just a few minutes, I sank my teeth into burger and fries.  Heavenly. We laughed on the way home, me feeding Steve fries as he drove.  Sometimes, you just have to take a break from being good!

So treatment continues apace.  I am hearing good things about this place from people here who’ve done much more research than I did.  They seem to have a good record of success, and I am talking today to a woman who had lymphoma and was here 8 months.  She is now on follow-up and doing wonderfully.  She looks like a million bucks.  Always good to see!

Enjoying the sunshine and getting better....

i left my electronic plastic room key in the direct sun for 15 minutes and it warped too much to be usable. it is hot out here! we are having a nice time. treatment seems to make me queasy and tired, but nothing like "real" chemo. We have settled into a routine. steve goes for a walk with Butters in a local park with Abraham, the walking buddy from Syria he talks to about world events. On non-fasting days, I eat and then we head to treatment for 7 a.m. On chemo days, like this morning, I fast and arrive hungry. After a bout 20 minutes of saline and magnesium drip, they inject the insulin through port. Lucinda wanted to know the dosage. It is 24,000 of humalog, for whatever that means. Hope i got that number right. After 15 minutes or so, she tests my blood sugar. Once it hits 50, she quickly injects the chemo and I drink juice and start to eat. Its not a good feeling to let your blood sugar get that low, I have to say. My hands were shaking as I started eating, but it lasts just a while. After this, I moved to the injection room to sit with everyone else and get my ionic foot bath and foot massage (yum!) while getting my multi vitamin treatment through the port. today I also did the hypergravity machine. this is a very weird experience of being vibrated very quickly as you stand on the machine. By keeping your knees slightly bent and leaning forward onto the balls of your feet, the vibration doesn't go to your head, which feels better. SImply standing on the machine is strenuous, its hard to explain why. Anyway, it is supposed to increase lymphatic drainage, which makes some sense, since that circulatory system is activated mainly through muscle movement. Based on Steve's research, we have decided to do IV vitamin C 3 x week instead of once. It seems, if nothing else, to make me feel better (although it can also make me nauseous.) I had a coaching call with a client and have gotten Mary BEth onto the task of setting up regular appointments with everyone I coach. Coaching a few clients a day in the afternoons is very do-able. It is good for me to keep the connection, and I hope good for my clients! ANyway, we are off to Wal-Mart for vitamins and supplies, as well as to fill a prescription for an antibiotic that will hopefully discourage the cancer going into my bones. Good idea! We have been having a wonderful time with Steve's cousin Lisa and Aunt Lucinda. What a great couple of women they are, and watching them bask in the desert sun and brun away their Seattle dampness is fun. They both love it here! We met two of Lisa's dear friends for drinks after a lovely dinner in Scottsdale last evening. Tonight, they'll come here to meet Butters and we'll have dinner nearby. We'll be sad to see them go, and hope to persuade them to come back again!

Catheters, sightseeing and friends and family...the bad and the good together

As I lie here writing this, I am deciding whether to have the pleural catheter removed from my lungs, even though it is still draining. At this point, the pain where the catheter emerges from my chest is the biggest problem I'm facing. It keeps me from exercising, or even walking, swimming or stretching. Unfortunately, we thought we were close to getting it out because I was draining far less from it. But this morning, it was suddenly 100 ml again. This isn't a ton of fluid, but it's in the wrong direction. The risk if I have them take it out is that the lung will fill up and need to be drained again. Worse, they could want to put a catheter back in. That's a tough thought to face. But I am starting to fear that this thing is a big obstacle to my getting better. Lying about is not healthy for me. Beyond this, it's been a nice few days. My friend Jacqueline arrived Wednesday evening and she and I had a great dinner out. On Thursday, I had chemo and then Steve drove us an our north to Montezuma's Table National Monument. This is the site of ancient cliff dwelling, something I've always wanted to see. It was incredibly hot, but we walked slowly around the 1/3 mile circuit, resting in the shade. Very cool. After a great lunch in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place Jackie found with Siri, we drove to Montezuma's Well, an almost circular pond around which the same people lived about 700 years ago. I felt well enough to climb all the way down and back up. I took pain meds for the ride home. After dinner, Jackie and I went to Applebee's for karaoke. I sang twice. I was super flattered when the DJ clearly enjoyed and complimented me on my songs. It was Jackie's suggestion that I sing "over the rainbow" and there was a big round of applause afterwards (most of the singers were pretty roundly ignored)' so that made my night. Today, we drove 2 hours to Tucson and had lunch with Steve's aunt Margaret, her husband John and daughter Lynn, neither of whom I'd met. It was a lovely time. Butters was a perfect gentleman. I feel a bit better, so going to go out and walk around the pool in the warm night air.

Treatment week one finished

Today is my final treatment for this week. I am actually lying here connected to the IV and receiving insulin, which creates a very odd taste in the mouth that someone said reminded them of band aids (I agree.) After chemo and vitamins on Monday, I had vitamins and detox on Tuesday. This takes place in the injection room, a large room with a circle of recliners filled with folks hooked up to IVs. There is much talk about treatment, symptoms, etc. It's an interesting group, all of whom have their own horror stories. With few exceptions, people come here after having exhausted traditional treatment. Many were told they were terminal. I seem to be less beat up than many, being fairly early along in the disease and treatment process. While getting our vitamin infusions, we take turns with the ionic foot bath (in which impurities are ostensibly drawn out through the pores of the feet into water, which turns a nasty brown color. Mine was particularly nasty, not only brown, but full of greasy-looking floating sludgy stuff. Interesting! We also get a special foot massage, and can use the sauna and a vibrating machine that is supposed to aid in lymph drainage. I haven't gotten either of these two yet and will do that tomorrow. Wednesday was similar, but I got my first injection of vitamin c. The dosage is low, and will go up next week and the next until I am at 75 grams. When treatment ended, I felt sort of lousy, queasy and tired. I went home to get sun and a nap. But, when I tried to sleep, I suddenly felt a rush of restless energy and got up. On wednesday, we also got a look at my blood test results. Worst news is that my platelet count dropped into the 50s. This is likely due to the two chemo treatments I got back east. I am right to feel the treatment would kill me. Let's hope it goes back up as I respond to all the treatment out here. My wonderful friend Jacqueline arrived last evening and we had a great dinner out, including a really delicious, if sinful, Margarita. After treatment, she and I will drive to Sedona! Can't wait.

First day of treatment

First day of treatment. The place is 5 minutes from our hotel and we arrived at 8:30 a.m. I was able to eat at 5 but fasting since then. Hungry! We were welcomed by Janice, one of the many warm, relaxed and cheerful people we met there. I filled out paperwork, including a 14-page medical history. One thing you notice about allopathic or wholistic providers is that they care about a lot more things. They want details on what you eat, how much you exercise, sleep, tons of symptoms other providers don't ask about. It's a pain, but does make you feel looked after at a whole new level. We then met with Dr. Deane, the director who admitted me, and Dr. Zieve, who will take care of me. Anyone interested can read his book, Healthy Medicine. One jarring question was "why did they do the mastectomy?" If the cancer is already beyond the breast, then a mastectomy is not indicated, apparently. Our answer was that they thought it important to remove the initial tumor. They said nothing, but its apparent from the result, that I would have been better off without the surgery. Grrr! it was reassuring to once again hear Dr. Deane say that they have had "good success" with triple negative breast cancer. Glad to hear someone has! Anyway, after paying by credit card for a week of treatment (some, but not much of which will be reimbursed through insurance), I spent a few moments envisioning our retirement spent working at Wal-Mart and living in a trailer park, then focused back on the idea of living to retire at all! My main treatment today was IPT, the insulin-potentiated chemotherapy. I was worried about this and made Steve stay, but it was easy. they accessed my new port (still sore and not psyched about being stuck with a needle, but oh well), took some blood, gave me saline and then delivered the insulin. Shortly after this, which left an odd taste in my mouth and made my heart race slightly, she gave me the chemo. they are able to deliver a cocktail of 5-6 chemo drugs that they find work well in synergy. You can't do this with normal chemo, as it will kill you dead. Then i could eat. Yay!!! they followed this up with oral supplements (broccoli extract was one!) and the "pink bag" of IV vitamins and minerals and I was done. We were there from 8:30 to 1:30 all told. I feel good, my lung drained only another 50 ML today, and, provided this stupid rash goes away and the catheter entrance heals up, i should be able to soon stop moving around like an old woman, slightly hunched over to not pull on the tubing, and slowly, not to jar my poor, sore side. For someone who walks fast as a matter of personality, this has been a drag. We went out to Wal-Mart to buy hats (we have a magnificent collection of hats at home that are, alas, at home, and various household things you need when you move via airplane and don't want to lug around, say, dishwasher detergent. On the way out, Steve encouraged me to get the pedicure I was coveting. I had removed the polish and, in a fit of detox-thinking, resolved to leave them plain. Alas, the chemo has damaged the nails, so they were discolored and yucky. I found it depressing looking at my feet. So now, I am sipping a very tiny glass of wine and admiring my hot pink toenails. A very lively color, a spunky color, a color for a woman who plans to live a Hell of a long time. Steve said he loves them, that they are a sign that we just left the bottom behind and are on our way up!

Arizona!!!

At 3 a.m., the itching woke me up. In reaction to God Knows What (chemo?) I have a large, itchy red rash over my chest, belly and back. But, who cares, today is the big move adventure. After looking at the drive, we decided to fly, with Butters. Not fun for him, but he survived and seems none the worse for it. My wonderful sister showed up at 4 a.m. for the drive to Newark airport. After locking the keys in the trunk with our luggage inside, swearing only a little (considering) and both Dev and I ganging up on Steve for being pokey, we were off in the dark right on schedule. My father-in-law had suggested a wheelchair and that turned out to be brilliant. Soon we were head through security with Butters on my lap, a nice gentleman pushing me and Steve with the carry-ons. Other than Steve getting through the security and starting to dress himself with no thought of poor Butters left behind, all went smoothly! The flight was long for a poor little doggie squashed into a small carrying bag but he did well but for one hour where we had to listen to him whimper and watch a little black snout and teeth repeatedly poke out through the zipper. But we are here at last. 10:30 am local time we were warmly received by Lisa at the front desk of the residence in. We got some sun by the pool, grabbed Mexican salads for lunch and I am about to take a nap. Steve and I have been a remarkable team at the start of this new joint venture. Tomorrow, I eat an early breakfast then fast and arrive at 9 am to start treatment. More as the details unfold.... Updates to visiting schedule. Lisa and Lucinda Kelly coming Sunday for 3 days! Joseph not coming direct from school but likely the weekend of 16th.

Visiting schedule so far

June 3-16 Steve with me June 7-8 Jackie visits June 8-10 Joseph and Maile visit June 15-22 Colin with me June 22-24 Kristen, Sue, Bridget (Jackie) visit June 22 ish Mom arrives This will continue to evolve. Feel free to add yourself into any other visits you'd like to join, or pick another time. I'm sure I'll be here all of June and my guess is July as well (provided I respond to the treatment!). Do not be shy...the more the merrier. This is a time to celebrate and be bold!