The whole thing made me realize how very, very fortunate I have been the past four months. I have an oncologist that is absolutely amazing. She knows her stuff and has to be one of the most caring, empathetic individuals on the planet. No matter how silly my questions have been, she has taken the time to answer them and has tirelessly listened to my concerns. She will always, always have a special place in my heart. Of course, I haven’t seen the last of her. As I continue on my journey to fight these mutant ninja cells she will be there, monitoring my progress. She plans on keeping an eye out to see that the little critters don’t try to make another home in my body for at least the next five years.

The Infusion Department has the sweetest nurses and staff. They made what could have been an awful and traumatic experience more than tolerable. I cannot believe that I’m writing this, but I’m actually going to miss seeing everyone. The past four months have flown by.

And of course, you all have continuously sent me your thoughts, prayers and good wishes. You don’t know how much you have lifted my spirits and kept me going. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Today is a good day!

Today is a good day!

Image courtesy of Ugliest Tattoos. com

Today is a good day!

Today is a good day!

I wondered why on earth this was a trend in these expensive houses. After all, it wasn’t like the Northeast where one would have tons of snow-covered clothes to deal with everyday. On that beautiful, beautiful day it seemed like an extravagant waste of square footage.

This winter, when the rain set in, I learned how valuable a mud room could be. After walking Arthur, I needed a place to sit to dry him. I also found that our modest laundry room was constantly filled with damp clothes left from earlier walks.

The proposal was made to DH (dear husband) that we were in dire need of a mud room. He is nothing short of brilliant and I now have a brand new mud room. A bench was built by the side door of our garage.  DH even installed a pole to hang damp clothes!  We now have a mud room that we can park a couple of cars in.

Today is a good day!

DH (dear husband) and I have recently become involved with Breaking Bad, an AMC produced series about a meek high school chemistry teacher, Walter White. Walter finds out he has terminal lung cancer and decides the way to secure a financial future for his family is to start manufacturing meth.

I’ve watched poor hapless Walt go through his chemo therapy treatments. One of the top oncologists in the country is giving him Adriamycin, just like my real-life doctor. However, Walt’s superstar of a doctor cannot control his nausea. DH and I have been enthralled with Walt’s super human abilities to rise above the ravages of the chemotherapy drugs to cook his meth all day, fight evil drug lords and walk for miles in the desert. I hardly have the energy to lay and watch him do all that.

My oncologist specifically told me to abstain from alcohol during treatment. She said the chemotherapy can weaken the liver. When DH and I watched our beloved character downing tequila shots, we found ourselves very concerned for his liver and wondered if his doctor had given him the same advice on alcohol consumption.

I suppose the lesson to take away from this is something I knew intellectually all along. The Hollywood writers pick and choose what facts they want to use to promote their story lines. I wish they understood how much it distracts from the narrative for those who are aware of the facts they have glossed over.

Today is a good day!

It’s hard to believe that tomorrow marks the sixth of eight chemotherapy treatments. That means I am sixth-eights of the way to completing this course of the treatment procedure. I’ll show off my mad math skills and reduce this fraction to THREE-FOURTHS of the way through!

Barbie was right, it’s been something I needed to suck up and do all by myself.  I’m going in tomorrow knowing that the toxins are giving my mutant ninja cells a very nasty time and blasting them to smithereens!

Today is a good day!

Today is a good day!

They chose the beautiful and popular 5 mile Multnomah Falls loop.  The trail starts with an easy quarter mile climb to the footbridge. After crossing the foot bridge, there is 1.1 mile paved path that continues to the top of the 542 foot falls. Once at the top of the falls, the path meanders into the forest, following the streams that feed Multnomah Falls.  The trail then winds over to the beginnings of the neighboring Wahkeena Falls and continues to follow its cascading waters back down to the bottom of the mountain.

The arrows in the photo above show the route that is taken to start the 1.1 mile trek to the top of Multnomah Falls. Just a little off the photo, to the left of the last arrow, Jason stopped on the paved path to look down the very steep hill below him.  As he assessed his surroundings, the asphalt under his feet crumbled and sent him falling. Janet and DH could only watch helplessly as he tumbled down the severe incline.  They estimate it was a fall of 20 to 25 feet  before a tree finally stopped him.

It was much, much further and too dangerous to consider continuing going down the hill, so Jason had no choice but to climb back up.  There was not a lot of rooted vegetation on the hill side to grab on to, which made the climb up even more treacherous.  Some fellow hikers helped by making a “human chain” to hoist him back up to the path.  Other than a few scratches, sore shoulder and lost eyeglasses, Jason was fine! Janet, Jason and DH decided to continue their trek and completed the entire hike.

Yesterday we found a same-day eyewear store and replaced his glasses. We are so very grateful that Jason is returning to Memphis with no more bodily damage than a few minor injuries that will heal by next weekend.

Today is a good an extraordinary day!

After getting situated just right, my body is then motored inside a tube for thirty solid minutes of whirring and clicking while the MRI machine takes photos.  The technician tells you it’s going to be thirty minutes, but there are no clocks or points of reference as to how long you’ve been inside this tube.  Intellectually, it doesn’t sound so bad.  Who can’t  lay still for thirty minutes? I certainly thought I was up to the task.  However, the machine gets hot, I get nervous and then feel nauseous.  The first time I made it for twenty minutes and was able to resume the MRI after cooling down.  Before I went on Monday, I explained to my oncologist that I didn’t tolerate this test very well.  She kindly prescribed a relaxant to help me make it through.  I actually went in with a positive moooooood.

As I positioned myself over the empty cones, I tried to keep the upbeat attitude.  The test started out okay. However, fifteen minutes into the test, the heat and subsequent nausea got to me.  The technician tried to get the test restarted, but my body just wasn’t going to cooperate. I hated giving up on something that seems like it should be so easy to complete.

Today, I got a call from my oncologist.  I was afraid she was going to fuss at me and offer to drug me further to get the test completed.  Instead, she apologized that I had such a difficult time with the test.  She went on to say that enough pictures were taken to show that the lymph node has shrunk half its size from the last photos!  The chemotherapy is doing its job!!! Waaahooooo!!!!

Today is a good day!