Eight isn't two-thirds of 14....

Dr. Chang and I talked about final numbers this week, and got some really "gritty" outcomes out of the way. He continues to think I'm responding well, handling it all well, and doing as well as he might expect...but stopping at 12 may not be the perfect answer. We may need to get to 14 to put the last nail in the little coffins I'm building for the tumors....it may even take more. We hope it is just 12, and will check via the CT scan again next week. All know for sure is that this ends the eighth session, and it comes none too soon.

I hope everyone had as much fun last weekend as we did in Napa. More wineries than probably made sense…and no golf clubs though we were right on the seventh hole of the Silverado South. Made for great weather, not having clubs, and the addition of new friends made for a FAST weekend.

Infusion number eight this week. It went well, as well as normal, which is to say that there were a lot of people in the ‘den,’ the nurses felt a little rushed, and of course my port did its own sweet thing. I have to have the drugs pumped into me, given that it doesn’t accept infusion as well as the first port did…and never returns blood so that I need to get poked and prodded for my blood tests, etc. Generally, ports go both directions, so only one punch is needed to do all the tests, make the infusion occur naturally, etc. Gravity doesn’t work for me, though, so we put two pumps to work on the IV tree.

The big news of the week is that I got my actual diploma from BU and my Oregon tax refund back in the same mail delivery. The Oregon Dept. of Revenue took exactly two weeks to look at my return and get a check delivered—probably a big thank-you is due to TurboTax for making life simple. The last of the Victoria deductions came through very nicely. Too bad that this is the final time I get to count her, a reason to feel older…after all these years of counting kids and sending in their Social Security Numbers.

(The “big news” comment might be wrong. While Judy and I were in Napa, I got to talk with my little girl and the surprise sent her way for Valentine’s Day. It was a personal delivery! Billy and Liz were able to re-arrange their schedules and visit Valpo for the year’s dance recital. All three of them were tickled to spend time together…which delighted me to no end. I’m not sure the weather cooperated as well in Northern Indiana as it did in Northern California, but the three of them are used to Valpo weather by now…)

Having the actual diploma made me giggle with glee. All that work over a span of time that has included all this colon/chemotherapy stuff makes me darn proud. Somehow the sheepskin seems more real than just an online notification.

Thanks, as always, for the support and prayers that made it all possible. Have a great week…spring is heading to California but we’re just lucky to have the rain stop for a few days up here. It will take the Lompoc Tournament to get ready for the golf season. In the meantime, I’m hitting balls and making myself ready as we head to the better weather. Any other Fubarians actually PRACTICING???

Mark

Is Seven This Lucky??

Update from the Opium Den…session Seven. The good news is that the recent CT showed no further expansion. We’ve stabilized the growth, now we begin the shrinkage. Sounds so clinical, impersonal…attached to someone else when the CT report suggests that the other organs are "unremarkable." (Good thing it stops around my navel.) Good news, and I’m glad there is no further growth taking place. Certainly better than the opposite, which we heard about in early January.

Today, I’m focused on wine tasting, warmer weather, and Spring. Ended my winter hiatus from the golf ball yesterday, the morning of the Super Bowl…as per normal. Last time around, I was concerned that the infusion port would cramp my swing…this time I didn’t even think about it. Not that we had good weather, mind you, though we did see the sun for the first time in days.

These are, as we Oregonians recognize, the dog days of winter. We’ve had three months of mud, and know that it will be difficult to plan outdoor activities for another three. The days grow more light in the evening, the rain becomes warmer, but it isn’t spring. Adding a trip to the doctor, no matter the news, simply adds another check mark to the week. Coat? (check) Umbrella? (check) Chapstick? (check) Infusion pump? (check)

The downhill side of the twelve sessions, with yet another few days of icky feelings. No matter how quickly I want it to pass, there is a certain “drag” to the first part of a chemotherapy week. The new TV is good for collegiate basketball games and passing time. Is UCLA quick enough to play with the ACC teams, and can Kevin Love fight off another talented center? Nothing on tv, though, replaces the nice phone calls, email and kind thoughts that people send my way.

People are doing their absolute best to keep my spirits up…yet these are the dog days of chemotherapy. I’ll be better in two weeks, after our Napa trip…and look forward to more numbers. Session ten will be great…sessions seven, eight and nine are simply stepping stones along the Journey.