Heartfelt gratitude

We have been humbled by the generosity and support shown by our friends, colleagues and family. There have been a lot of things that have been done to help us get through this difficult chapter in our lives — things like coming over and taking over household chores and yardwork, preparing and delivering meals, donating blood, plasma and platelets (obviously, not for me specifically, but in response to a general request), lending me books and movies to while away the days as I wait for my strength to rebuild, visiting me both at home and at the hospital, giving generous gifts and donations, sending cards and well wishes, leaving comments or sending e-mails, the list goes on.

To everyone that has been a part of this, sharing some of the burden/lightening the load, we want to thank you. I still have a few more steps to go, but I’ve been heartened and strengthened by you, realizing that you are a part of the healing and without your participation, this would be so much more difficult.

thankyou

(Yes, that is another peony. I can’t help myself.)

Chemo postponed

Blood tests revealed a drop in my white blood cell and neutrophil counts over the weekend. So, they are waiting to start the consolidation until those numbers bump back up (perhaps on Wednesday). I suppose if they continue to go down, there will be much furling of brows and scratching of chins since, in theory, I should be well on my way to increased bone marrow activity. On the other hand, apparently this is not much to be worried about, just another lesson in patience, another “bump in the road.” However, when told not to worry as many times as we have been told, it’s hard not to start wondering if they are just saying it as opposed to really meaning it. But, in the end, not worrying is the best thing to do… I mean, we all like to keep our sanity, right?

Looking at the bright side, today will sort of be a free day. No harsh drugs coursing through my body = feeling pretty good. So, on that note, I’ll leave you with another image of the lovely things around me that gently nudge me away from worry.

Peony

(Judging by all the floral pictures I’ve taken, it’s probably a good thing I’m not going through this in the dead of winter.)

Gearing up for consolidation round #2

Met with the oncologist on Friday, and even though my body is still taking its time to get the white blood count up, he thought I was ready to start my second round of consolidation on Monday. So, what do you do to prepare for another round of chemotherapy? You do whatever you can to enjoy the days leading up to it, because chances are it’s going to suck (I think that’s actual medical terminology) again.

So, we did what any normal couple would do on a beautiful summer Sunday. We prepared a picnic and headed for the park.

Picnic at the Park

Picnic at the Park

After a hearty lunch, a chapter or two and a leisure stroll back to the car, we stopped at the Birchwood for treats (key lime pie for me, carrot cake for Virginia) and iced coffee.

Back at home, the afternoon was still beckoning us to stay outdoors, so we sat out on the deck and created some scratchcrafty goodness (for those new to this blog, that’s typically spinning and knitting around here).

Virginia Knitting

Superwash Colonnial

Note about the yarn: The spinning of this yarn was interrupted back in March, but I decided to take advantage of feeling energized and finish it up today. This is a skein of 3-ply superwash colonnial wool, spun from about 3 oz. of dyed top, totaling 330 yards. Surprisingly, I was able to keep it the same wpi’s as when I first started. Some skills don’t get rusty, even with cancer.

Speaking of which… nah, I’ll stop talking about that for now and just enjoy the rest of the evening. I think there’s probably some more spinning on tap and an episode or two of The Avengers.

On having tubes

I think I’m allowed to gripe a little (obviously, since this is my blog, I can gripe all I want, but there remains a fine balance of not turning away those who wish to follow this journey with me by griping all the time — that can get old).

There are certain things about having cancer that can really put a damper on activities that one normally enjoys (OK, that’s a bit of an understatement). Take for instance, bathing. For the past three months I have not had a complete soak in the tub. Sure, I can sit and splash and sort of soak. But, as one nurse referred to bathing with a hickman, “It’s like taking a bird bath.” To get an idea of what I’m up against every time I try to get clean, here’s a photo:

(Word of warning – it’s not a pretty picture, but nothing about having tubes sticking out of your body is pretty).

Hickman Line

There are obvious advantages to having direct access to one’s blood stream. For one, every time I have blood work drawn (two or three times a week), I don’t have to get pricked. The same goes for medications, I.V.s and blood transfusions. Pain medication is especially effective when administered this way. I found that out real fast when given Demerol and Dilaudid at different points during my hospitalizations… “Ummm, I’ll have some more of that, please.” (Just kidding). But, that’s about it.

Ah, but to be able to submerge myself to the neck and take a nice long soak… I believe that will be the first thing I’ll do when this is all over with.