I'm propped up in bed, somewhat limp and weak-feeling and a bit achy and toxic pimply, but two days off of the nausea meds and starting to pep up. Mouth not as sawdusty. Appetite okay, not huge. Oh, and I'm bald, which is still very surreal. Also the eyelashes are starting to go. Slept hard last night, however, it was with the aid of a little Benadryl because my brain kept composing an email to Boston's teacher and wouldn't shut off. Wrote said email as soon as I woke up and then spent the morning erasing about a million incomplete/wrong answers in his daily math workbook where he has supposedly been doing prime factorization and simplified fractions for the every day of the entire year. (Teacher has only checked for completeness, not correctness). Plan to spend the bulk of afternoon encouraging child to get them corrected and ready to turn in to now-aware teacher by Tuesday. In other words, I'm adulting from bed.
And it's good that my meds have worn off so that chemo-brain isn't messing things up worse. Macy brought home a little math race to do with me a few weeks ago. There were like, 20 multiplication and division facts on a strip of paper. We each had one test and were supposed to see who could finish first. I tried really hard, beat her by two problems, but MISSED some really easy ones! I was shocked! This is my brain on poison and drugs.
I'm now halfway done with chemo, and to the point where they change my cocktail, so, no more "red-devil" medicine that makes you extra nauseous a gives the horrible mouth sores (that I never developed once, hooray!), and on to the Taxol, that supposedly makes you more sleepy and messes with the nerves in your fingers and toes. Four more rounds to go, then surgery and hormone suppressants for ten years, since my kind of cancer likes to eat estrogen.
I am extremely grateful to have the type of cancer that I can actually be free from. In my treatment center there is a poster by an organization for cancer patients under 40, titled "Stupid Cancer". One of the rallying cries of this organization is that "remission is NOT a cure". I feel so much for these poor cancer patients who have it in their lymph system, their bones, their lungs, their brains, who can't just remove it and be done, like I can. Always wondering when that little friend is going to come for them. So scary. They are the brave and inspiring ones, having/getting to live with it. I just feel like an ordinary person who has to take some yucky medicine for awhile. It has basically felt like a bad first trimester with every other week off.
The other inspiring ones are absolutely the caregivers. Here is mine!!
Rosie has been a delight, and since I don't get out much at all, pretty much my daily news--how did she sleep, what new food is she eating, is she rolling over yet, look how much she is growing, etc. The world has definitely shrunk, and it's so nice to be able to slow down and enjoy her babyhood (while Mom does the heavy lifting). So, most of our updates from the last couple months are baby pictures.
|I finally shaved my head not long after this. It was all grizzled and even had finger tracks from where hair had rubbed off in the shower.|
Rosie at 5 months.
|Rosie loves playing with this pink ribbon. Boston decided to tie it to his head and play peekaboo.|
Rosie loves bathtime.
What else? The three middles have finished up their basketball season. I was able to go to several games, trying hard not to pick up any germs. I wore my Princess Leia costume to the games so as not to draw attention. (Plus it was fun to get smiles.)
Leslie had a birthday, attended the Sweetheart's ball, went to San Francisco on choir tour, and has been working twice a week at a local retirement home as a CNA.
|Leslie is the light umbrella against the tree.|
This is what happened when we tried to get out of the house the day after my lymph node surgery/port placement and go to the temple. We spun three times on the ice. It was a miracle that no one else seemed to be on the freeway and we had all three lanes to turn donuts freely at 50 mph or so. We just kind of peeled the front and back end off of Mark's poor Honda (that we had just paid off) without an actual front impact, so the airbags never inflated and we were unaffected in the cab. Mark was pretty freaked out (first my wife has cancer, then I try to kill her in an accident...!!) but I felt like it was a sign that the Lord is just keeping us safe in this little bubble during this strange time in our lives.
|Luke and Macy played Mummy one day. We do what we can.|