No treatment today. Liver functions are not quite right. He wants to let me rest another week before hitting me with more chemo. In the meantime, I have to have an ultrasound and a bone scan. Why the bone scan? Because the result from the blood test that appears to be a liver problem can actually be something with the bones or gall stones or whatever. That'll be Thursday. At least they rescheduled the pelvic ultrasound (that I was to have next Thursday due to the extra vaginal bleeding) for the same day. That'll be a big day.
It'll be nice to have a break from the chemo, but this throws off my whole schedule. I'll have to fix my calendar. I had all my treatment dates written in.
Good thing: Had my car fixed. No more rattling mixed with chirping birds and now it's save to drive it to Shreveport.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Long Awaited Blogging
Greetings from Cancer World. Be warned, this entry's going to be a long one. First let me say I'm alive and doing fine. Fine, at least, for someone in the middle of chemotherapy. I'll give the happy news right up front. At the last blood test, about a week ago, my creatinine was back to normal, 1.1. The doc couldn't really explain it, but let's not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Emotionally I've been going through a rough patch and haven't wanted to communicate. I've been swinging from one emotion to another and I didn't want to write anything and put it out there for fear I'd regret it later. I seem to be leveling off now.
I've also been taking a good hard look at just what my purpose is with this blog. Do I just want to use to it to inform family and friends that I'm still here, hanging in or do I want to go deeper with it? Every time I sit to write I wonder am I going to just wave and say, "Hi guys, still alive" or am I going to share the whole process of this illness including the really tough stuff? Some things are so personal that I've stopped short of sharing them. Will it embarrass me? Will it embarrass my family and friends? When I started this I didn't consider that there would be things that I would be embarrassed to talk about. But it turns out there are.
Lately, I've had some questions about what's to come over the past few weeks and I'm going to have to call one or two of the women I know who've been through this to find out what happened to them. And I'm thinking, what if, later, someone going through this themselves has questions for me? I'm beginning to feel like I need to keep a more accurate record and that leaving things out is dishonest.
Considering some of the previous entries recounting how awful I was feeling physically, you may be wondering what I could've left out. What could be worse than feeling like you're decaying inside? Nothing really. I was just embarrassed to mention certain things. And the more I thought about it, the sillier that embarrassment became.
For example, almost from the very beginning I've been dealing with a hemorrhoid problem. Naturally, associated with this is blood in the stools. For this reason I had to go to a Colon and Rectal specialist, who I fondly refer to as The Butt Doctor (or as Luke would say, "the one we don't talk about"). Let me tell you, I'd rather have a gynecological exam every day for a week than go to The Butt Doctor once. He gave me some cream and some fiber powder and instructed to me to sit in a tub of warm water for 15 minutes three times a day. This is impossible. Am I allowed no life at all? And have you ever tried to swallow the slime that's created when you add that powder to water or juice? I did it twice and that was the end of that. I did find some fiber wafers to chew that sort of taste like sweet tarts. The problem with them is you have to take two or three and drink eight ounces of water with each one. That's not so bad by itself, but working it into my drug taking regiment is crazy.
Have I mentioned my medication schedule? I take 13 pills a day. Some on an empty stomach, some with food, some with eight ounces of water, some can't be taken at the same time as others. Theoretically I have morning pills and evening pills, but the ones that require all the water have to be spaced out so I don't drown. I start taking my morning pills at home about 6:30 a.m. and finish some time around 9:00 a.m. at the office. Of course, I'm not counting the ones I take on chemo days and the four days following to prevent nausea. Nor am I counting the shots I have to get, one every two weeks and the other every three weeks.
But I digress. At first The Butt Doctor said I might have to have a colonoscopy. After the treatment regiment for a couple weeks and then trying to schedule an appointment on my "off" weeks (no chemo weeks) I had to go back this past week so he could examine me again. Since there have been no more bloody stools I think I'm safe from the colonoscopy.
Another problem I'm having is this - wait - first any men reading this might want to skip this paragraph. I know how these things make you uncomfortable. However, you women can sympathize. My hormones have gone crazy. In the last six weeks I've had menstrual bleeding three times for six or seven days each time. The first off-cycle bleeding came about two weeks early and then every other week thereafter. The first time it happened I asked the nurse practitioner who said chemo could mess up your cycle. Everything I've read has said this also. The third time it happened I told the oncologist who said chemo doesn't do that and I needed to go see a gynecologist to find out what else was wrong with me. He said it can stop your cycle, but it doesn't cause frequent recurrences. This seemed awfully coincidental to me, though, considering my cycle is like clockwork every 28 to 30 days without fail and never for more than 3 days. Now I'm bleeding for seven days every other week after a couple of chemotherapy treatments? So this past week, not only did I see The Butt Doctor, I also saw the gynecologist. Fortunately I really like this gynecologist. (When she walks into a room you immediately feel at ease. As if she's got some sort of positive aura surrounding her.) She says she thinks the bleeding is from the chemo and that it should stabilize. I have to call her if it comes again too soon. She didn't want to add hormones to what I'm already going through. See why I like her? I do have an ultrasound scheduled for June 9th just to take a look-see and be sure there's nothing else going on. My next chemo is Tuesday, the 31st and June 9th should be my follow-up visit for that too. Anytime I can double-up trips to Shreveport it's a good thing.
I don't know if I've mentioned that every time I talk to the oncologist or one of the nurses they ask if I have any sores in my mouth. They warned me the sores can get pretty bad, and sometimes people are hospitalized to control the pain. About a week and a half ago my mouth finally broke out in the dreaded sores. It was the strangest thing. I was sitting at my desk at work when suddenly I had two sores. It was just like that, too. My mouth was fine one instant and then, bam, sores. By the end of the day my mouth was full of them. Now I have, added to my already busy schedule of drug taking, bathing, working, etc., two (not one) mouthwashes to be used three times a day. I spend more time in the bathroom then anywhere else. Fortunately, the sores have cleared up and my mouth feels okay again. I'm worried about my teeth moving, though, because I can't wear my retainer. I'm afraid it'll rub the inside of my mouth and bring on sores.
That's about it for the physical problems, I think. Later, I'll tell you about some of the emotional stuff.
Emotionally I've been going through a rough patch and haven't wanted to communicate. I've been swinging from one emotion to another and I didn't want to write anything and put it out there for fear I'd regret it later. I seem to be leveling off now.
I've also been taking a good hard look at just what my purpose is with this blog. Do I just want to use to it to inform family and friends that I'm still here, hanging in or do I want to go deeper with it? Every time I sit to write I wonder am I going to just wave and say, "Hi guys, still alive" or am I going to share the whole process of this illness including the really tough stuff? Some things are so personal that I've stopped short of sharing them. Will it embarrass me? Will it embarrass my family and friends? When I started this I didn't consider that there would be things that I would be embarrassed to talk about. But it turns out there are.
Lately, I've had some questions about what's to come over the past few weeks and I'm going to have to call one or two of the women I know who've been through this to find out what happened to them. And I'm thinking, what if, later, someone going through this themselves has questions for me? I'm beginning to feel like I need to keep a more accurate record and that leaving things out is dishonest.
Considering some of the previous entries recounting how awful I was feeling physically, you may be wondering what I could've left out. What could be worse than feeling like you're decaying inside? Nothing really. I was just embarrassed to mention certain things. And the more I thought about it, the sillier that embarrassment became.
For example, almost from the very beginning I've been dealing with a hemorrhoid problem. Naturally, associated with this is blood in the stools. For this reason I had to go to a Colon and Rectal specialist, who I fondly refer to as The Butt Doctor (or as Luke would say, "the one we don't talk about"). Let me tell you, I'd rather have a gynecological exam every day for a week than go to The Butt Doctor once. He gave me some cream and some fiber powder and instructed to me to sit in a tub of warm water for 15 minutes three times a day. This is impossible. Am I allowed no life at all? And have you ever tried to swallow the slime that's created when you add that powder to water or juice? I did it twice and that was the end of that. I did find some fiber wafers to chew that sort of taste like sweet tarts. The problem with them is you have to take two or three and drink eight ounces of water with each one. That's not so bad by itself, but working it into my drug taking regiment is crazy.
Have I mentioned my medication schedule? I take 13 pills a day. Some on an empty stomach, some with food, some with eight ounces of water, some can't be taken at the same time as others. Theoretically I have morning pills and evening pills, but the ones that require all the water have to be spaced out so I don't drown. I start taking my morning pills at home about 6:30 a.m. and finish some time around 9:00 a.m. at the office. Of course, I'm not counting the ones I take on chemo days and the four days following to prevent nausea. Nor am I counting the shots I have to get, one every two weeks and the other every three weeks.
But I digress. At first The Butt Doctor said I might have to have a colonoscopy. After the treatment regiment for a couple weeks and then trying to schedule an appointment on my "off" weeks (no chemo weeks) I had to go back this past week so he could examine me again. Since there have been no more bloody stools I think I'm safe from the colonoscopy.
Another problem I'm having is this - wait - first any men reading this might want to skip this paragraph. I know how these things make you uncomfortable. However, you women can sympathize. My hormones have gone crazy. In the last six weeks I've had menstrual bleeding three times for six or seven days each time. The first off-cycle bleeding came about two weeks early and then every other week thereafter. The first time it happened I asked the nurse practitioner who said chemo could mess up your cycle. Everything I've read has said this also. The third time it happened I told the oncologist who said chemo doesn't do that and I needed to go see a gynecologist to find out what else was wrong with me. He said it can stop your cycle, but it doesn't cause frequent recurrences. This seemed awfully coincidental to me, though, considering my cycle is like clockwork every 28 to 30 days without fail and never for more than 3 days. Now I'm bleeding for seven days every other week after a couple of chemotherapy treatments? So this past week, not only did I see The Butt Doctor, I also saw the gynecologist. Fortunately I really like this gynecologist. (When she walks into a room you immediately feel at ease. As if she's got some sort of positive aura surrounding her.) She says she thinks the bleeding is from the chemo and that it should stabilize. I have to call her if it comes again too soon. She didn't want to add hormones to what I'm already going through. See why I like her? I do have an ultrasound scheduled for June 9th just to take a look-see and be sure there's nothing else going on. My next chemo is Tuesday, the 31st and June 9th should be my follow-up visit for that too. Anytime I can double-up trips to Shreveport it's a good thing.
I don't know if I've mentioned that every time I talk to the oncologist or one of the nurses they ask if I have any sores in my mouth. They warned me the sores can get pretty bad, and sometimes people are hospitalized to control the pain. About a week and a half ago my mouth finally broke out in the dreaded sores. It was the strangest thing. I was sitting at my desk at work when suddenly I had two sores. It was just like that, too. My mouth was fine one instant and then, bam, sores. By the end of the day my mouth was full of them. Now I have, added to my already busy schedule of drug taking, bathing, working, etc., two (not one) mouthwashes to be used three times a day. I spend more time in the bathroom then anywhere else. Fortunately, the sores have cleared up and my mouth feels okay again. I'm worried about my teeth moving, though, because I can't wear my retainer. I'm afraid it'll rub the inside of my mouth and bring on sores.
That's about it for the physical problems, I think. Later, I'll tell you about some of the emotional stuff.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Half Way Home
Finished with number 4!! Just 4 more to go. This is actually going quicker than I thought. When it started I thought, six months of treatment, how will I make it through that long? That's half a year! Impossible!! It can't possibly be worth it. Now that I've made it through the last three months, three more months doesn't sound so insurmountable. As you can tell by the last few entries, it has been getting tougher. But now that I'm done with the AC part I'm hoping the T (taxol?) won't be so harsh.
The blood transfusion must have done me some good. I saw the nephrologist before going for chemo and she was happy with my numbers. Tra la la la la. Most significantly my potassium was back to normal levels. Creatinine is still at 1.4. Hemoglobin - good, almost normal. She and the oncologist were in agreement that pushing on with treatment four was okay.
Today's treatment was pretty much uneventful, which was a relief, considering the last couple of visits. The oncologist says the lump in my breast is now about the size of a pencil eraser. Whoohoo! Can I kill a cancer or what? Stage IIIC - kiss my a--.
Did I mention the port turned around again on Friday? Yep, can you believe my luck? I knew when I woke up. I knew what it was supposed to feel like and it wasn't right. Since we were going to Shreveport anyway that day, for the Congressional Art Contest Award Ceremony, we went to the surgeon's office that afternoon and he turned it around again. It's still a little sore. He said he'll take it out after the chemo is done. This made me very happy. I wasn't looking forward to keeping it, because it bothers me a lot. Hell, it hurts when it flips. (Of course, I didn't really feel it flip, because I was still fighting the migraine and was heavily dosed on hydrocodone). Normally they want to keep it in (just in case) for a of couple years.
The good thing that happened today: I packed a lunch to take with me, just in case something went wrong. Luckily, I was finished by one o'clock (no complications) but I was glad to have lunch with me anyway. I'm really getting tired of eating out and especially fast foods.
Things I want to do: Go to France or maybe Prague or the Vatican. Somewhere with thousands of years of history.
The blood transfusion must have done me some good. I saw the nephrologist before going for chemo and she was happy with my numbers. Tra la la la la. Most significantly my potassium was back to normal levels. Creatinine is still at 1.4. Hemoglobin - good, almost normal. She and the oncologist were in agreement that pushing on with treatment four was okay.
Today's treatment was pretty much uneventful, which was a relief, considering the last couple of visits. The oncologist says the lump in my breast is now about the size of a pencil eraser. Whoohoo! Can I kill a cancer or what? Stage IIIC - kiss my a--.
Did I mention the port turned around again on Friday? Yep, can you believe my luck? I knew when I woke up. I knew what it was supposed to feel like and it wasn't right. Since we were going to Shreveport anyway that day, for the Congressional Art Contest Award Ceremony, we went to the surgeon's office that afternoon and he turned it around again. It's still a little sore. He said he'll take it out after the chemo is done. This made me very happy. I wasn't looking forward to keeping it, because it bothers me a lot. Hell, it hurts when it flips. (Of course, I didn't really feel it flip, because I was still fighting the migraine and was heavily dosed on hydrocodone). Normally they want to keep it in (just in case) for a of couple years.
The good thing that happened today: I packed a lunch to take with me, just in case something went wrong. Luckily, I was finished by one o'clock (no complications) but I was glad to have lunch with me anyway. I'm really getting tired of eating out and especially fast foods.
Things I want to do: Go to France or maybe Prague or the Vatican. Somewhere with thousands of years of history.
Jeremy Wins Congressional Award for art.
Jeremy recently won an award for his artwork in a state contest sponsored by Congressman Jim McCrery. Here are photos from the event.
Just another day
Today is treatment number 4. It's the last one of this type. The good news is the doc says the next 4 treatments won't be as hard on the kidneys. Bad news is it has it's own side effects. Like anything, it all depends on the person so can't say how it'll go. I have to get through the last one of these first anyway.
This has been a rough week. I had a migraine for 5 days, then it downgraded to merely a really bad headache. I still have it and we're on day number 9. I've taken Demerol, hydrocodone, Tylenol, ibuprofen and even been to the hospital for shots. Nothing works for long. I'm beginning to think I have a blood clot or had stroke or something. (Okay, I'm joking here, please DON'T PANIC!)
The really great thing that happened this week: Jeremy entered a Congressional Art Contest (each Congressional district has one) through his high school. All the high schools in the district enter pieces (about 12 schools). There were over 100 entries. His piece won Outstanding Technical Merit. It was one of the top 5 prizes. The top one won a scholarship to an art school and the other 4 got these beautiful plaques and a $50 cash award (Jeremy particularly liked this). Luke will put up a picture of it. It's what is called scratch board. It's black and you scratch away the black stuff to make the picture. It's awesome, if I do say so myself.
The picture with Jeremy in the tux is for the Junior Prom. Isn't he handsome? The "Eyes" you see behind him is another one of his art pieces. It's a charcoal sketch.
Well, I must go dress for the trip to Shreveport. I've finally gotten smart and packed a lunch.
This has been a rough week. I had a migraine for 5 days, then it downgraded to merely a really bad headache. I still have it and we're on day number 9. I've taken Demerol, hydrocodone, Tylenol, ibuprofen and even been to the hospital for shots. Nothing works for long. I'm beginning to think I have a blood clot or had stroke or something. (Okay, I'm joking here, please DON'T PANIC!)
The really great thing that happened this week: Jeremy entered a Congressional Art Contest (each Congressional district has one) through his high school. All the high schools in the district enter pieces (about 12 schools). There were over 100 entries. His piece won Outstanding Technical Merit. It was one of the top 5 prizes. The top one won a scholarship to an art school and the other 4 got these beautiful plaques and a $50 cash award (Jeremy particularly liked this). Luke will put up a picture of it. It's what is called scratch board. It's black and you scratch away the black stuff to make the picture. It's awesome, if I do say so myself.
The picture with Jeremy in the tux is for the Junior Prom. Isn't he handsome? The "Eyes" you see behind him is another one of his art pieces. It's a charcoal sketch.
Well, I must go dress for the trip to Shreveport. I've finally gotten smart and packed a lunch.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Blood
Went to the doc on Thursday. The good news is my potassium was much better. The bad news is I was WAY anemic. The doc said I was blending in with the walls which were this yellowish-beigeish off-white color. What I had expected to be a 30 minute doctor visit turned into an all day thing because I had to have a blood transfusion. Yes sir, yes sir, two bags full. He said I'd feel like a million bucks afterward. Sadly, I fell a little short of a million, but that may be because I also had the aranasp shot which makes me ache. It did take care of the heart palpitations and shortness of breath though. I guess it wasn't love after all.
Now that most of the effects of the shot have worn off I do feel a lot better and more energetic. And the headache is gone. Woohoo.
Hopefully my sense of humor will improve too. While talking to the nurse who was giving me blood I made some lame joke about needing blood due to a nocturnal visit from a vampire. (Pathetic). She gave me that polite smile we give people who tell awful jokes that aren't funny, but we don't want to hurt their feelings. You know, half a smile, raise the eyebrows, nod the head slightly, utter, "Ah." I felt compelled to apologize. I told her I was weak and tired and had a tremendous headache and I promised to be wittier when I felt better. Without missing a beat, she patted my arm and said, "I'm sure you will be."
It really did take all day. They offered me a room with a bed so I wouldn't have to sit in the chemo chair for long hours on end, which can get pretty uncomfortable. It was a pleasant room with a big window looking out over a big tree that was blowing in the wind. I had my book and a television and an adjustable bed. And I was there from 11:00 am until 4:00 pm. They have to give the blood very slowly. I believe that's so it doesn't overwhelm the kidneys and cause kidney failure. I'm sensing a recurring theme here.
They brought me a BLT, which was disgustingly smothered in mayonnaise, and some potato chips. Thankfully, one of the pink ladies kept coming around bringing me graham crackers and juice. That may be another reason I didn't feel like a million bucks when I was done. I ate a bagel at 7:00 am and the only other food I had until 7:00 pm was graham crackers and chips. Next time I go to the doc or for chemo or anything I'm packing a lunch and bringing my laptop.
The good thing that happened: I had a $10 off coupon for Lowe's so I went by there on my way home and bought some flowers and two hanging baskets.
Now that most of the effects of the shot have worn off I do feel a lot better and more energetic. And the headache is gone. Woohoo.
Hopefully my sense of humor will improve too. While talking to the nurse who was giving me blood I made some lame joke about needing blood due to a nocturnal visit from a vampire. (Pathetic). She gave me that polite smile we give people who tell awful jokes that aren't funny, but we don't want to hurt their feelings. You know, half a smile, raise the eyebrows, nod the head slightly, utter, "Ah." I felt compelled to apologize. I told her I was weak and tired and had a tremendous headache and I promised to be wittier when I felt better. Without missing a beat, she patted my arm and said, "I'm sure you will be."
It really did take all day. They offered me a room with a bed so I wouldn't have to sit in the chemo chair for long hours on end, which can get pretty uncomfortable. It was a pleasant room with a big window looking out over a big tree that was blowing in the wind. I had my book and a television and an adjustable bed. And I was there from 11:00 am until 4:00 pm. They have to give the blood very slowly. I believe that's so it doesn't overwhelm the kidneys and cause kidney failure. I'm sensing a recurring theme here.
They brought me a BLT, which was disgustingly smothered in mayonnaise, and some potato chips. Thankfully, one of the pink ladies kept coming around bringing me graham crackers and juice. That may be another reason I didn't feel like a million bucks when I was done. I ate a bagel at 7:00 am and the only other food I had until 7:00 pm was graham crackers and chips. Next time I go to the doc or for chemo or anything I'm packing a lunch and bringing my laptop.
The good thing that happened: I had a $10 off coupon for Lowe's so I went by there on my way home and bought some flowers and two hanging baskets.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Nuttin'
I've got nothing to say today. But maybe that's a good thing. At least I'm not complaining.
We've been having this awesome weather lately. (Uh, oh, it's pathetic when you're reduced to talking about the weather.) It's cool outside, but not cold and sunny. Perfect being-outside weather.
Tomorrow I have the 10 days-post-chemo doctor appointment and blood tests and shot. Hopefully my numbers will be better this time. I'm trying to eat bananas and drink orange juice and whatnot. The only thing I have to complain about is I'm having some heart palpitations and shortness of breath. But hey, maybe I'm just in love.
This is totally unrelated to cancer (go ahead, say it, "OH at last!"). The other day I was watching The Daily Show with John Stewart and they showed this clip of a chimpanzee smoking a cigarette! It was the weirdest thing! The curious thing was that chimp looked more natural and at ease smoking that cigarette than I ever did and I smoked for 14 years. I kept thinking, maybe it was a man in a chimp suit. Only it wasn't. I hope you get a chance to see it, if you missed it.
I told you I had nothing today.
We've been having this awesome weather lately. (Uh, oh, it's pathetic when you're reduced to talking about the weather.) It's cool outside, but not cold and sunny. Perfect being-outside weather.
Tomorrow I have the 10 days-post-chemo doctor appointment and blood tests and shot. Hopefully my numbers will be better this time. I'm trying to eat bananas and drink orange juice and whatnot. The only thing I have to complain about is I'm having some heart palpitations and shortness of breath. But hey, maybe I'm just in love.
This is totally unrelated to cancer (go ahead, say it, "OH at last!"). The other day I was watching The Daily Show with John Stewart and they showed this clip of a chimpanzee smoking a cigarette! It was the weirdest thing! The curious thing was that chimp looked more natural and at ease smoking that cigarette than I ever did and I smoked for 14 years. I kept thinking, maybe it was a man in a chimp suit. Only it wasn't. I hope you get a chance to see it, if you missed it.
I told you I had nothing today.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Three down - five to go
My third chemo almost didn’t happen because my blood work wasn’t good. My red and white blood cells were low, my creatinine was high(er than usual). For the benefit of those who don’t monitor their kidney function on a regular basis, creatinine is what they use to measure how well the kidneys are doing their job of flushing out the bad stuff. In a nut shell, high creatinine means not flushing so well. My oncologist called my nephrologist (who’d of thought I’d have so many specialists of my very own) to discuss it and they decided that it would be okay to go ahead with chemo this time.
While having chemo I met a woman who had lymphoma. She was finished with her initial treatment regiment, but had to return every six months to have chemo once a week for four weeks. This is how cancer changes people's lives forever. She also finished the book she was reading and gave it to me. It was such a nice and simple gesture that now I think I will bring the books I have finished with me next time and give them to other patients.
After the chemo I had go to the lab and pee in a cup for the nephrologist. While waiting my turn the nurse who did the chemo came running in - the nephrologist had sent her after me to give me potassium. I already take potassium supplements, but apparently I needed more. These pills are very hard to swallow. They are big and rough and get caught in your throat. It’s worse if you break them in half because then they have rough edges. The nurse stood over me and made sure I took them right there in front of her, which I thought was pretty funny. After all it was potassium, not an anti-psychotic.
So I survived chemo three adding an extra appointment to see the nephrologist. When I got home I felt pretty yucky and wiped out. But I found a letter in my mailbox from the 12 year old daughter of an old friend. She had even included some pictures. Perfect timing.
Thursday I saw the nephrologist. She showed me the lab work and while my creatinine was a little higher than normal, it wasn't terrible. It was 1.4. Before starting chemo it was at 1.3. For perspective, normal levels for an adult female are 0.5 to 1.1 and dialysis is needed when you get to 10. So it's higher than normal, but not panic time. She was more concerned about my potassium level. Now before chemo I have to see her, too, not just the oncologist.
Thursday after treatment is the lowest day for me, so when I got home from the doc I just fell into bed and slept a few hours. The rest of the day I slept off and on in a recliner.
I'll try to describe how this feels. It's not like just being exhausted. It feels like dying. And not like I imagined that would feel like. It's not a spiritual kind of feeling. More like decay. Your skin hurts on the inside, like a low burning feeling. Only you feel cold on the outside and you can't get warm. Fortunately, the worst of that is Wednesday night and Thursday. Friday is mostly weakness. I went to work on Friday for half a day because I couldn't bear sitting home all day.
Here are some other fun facts about chemo: I now have a constant bad taste in my mouth. I suck on these frozen juice things that help with that a lot and they give me more liquid. I have to drink a lot of liquid. Since starting chemo my blood pressure has been steadily dropping. Yesterday my pressure was 103 over 60 so I didn't take my BP med. I have a minor headache most of time. Even on my good days I can't do too many things without stopping to rest. This is frustrating. It's like I'm 70 instead of 41. And, speaking of getting old, I've noticed a lot of new wrinkles. My face is starting to look aged. I hope this is a temporary thing and perhaps seems worse because of the baldness.
That's enough complaining for now! It's a beautiful day outside. In fact it's cool and I'm going to open the windows and air out the house.
And did you see the soccer cake I made for Jeremy? Pretty funny, huh? Well it was my first attempt and I was making it up as I went along. It's not like I had a special pan or anything. I baked the cake in an oven safe bowl to get the round shape.
Jeremy won Soccer All-District Honorable Mention as a defender. This is something all the coaches in the district vote on. Considering he's on the second to worst team in the district, I think it's pretty awesome that the other coaches noticed him and voted for him.
While having chemo I met a woman who had lymphoma. She was finished with her initial treatment regiment, but had to return every six months to have chemo once a week for four weeks. This is how cancer changes people's lives forever. She also finished the book she was reading and gave it to me. It was such a nice and simple gesture that now I think I will bring the books I have finished with me next time and give them to other patients.
After the chemo I had go to the lab and pee in a cup for the nephrologist. While waiting my turn the nurse who did the chemo came running in - the nephrologist had sent her after me to give me potassium. I already take potassium supplements, but apparently I needed more. These pills are very hard to swallow. They are big and rough and get caught in your throat. It’s worse if you break them in half because then they have rough edges. The nurse stood over me and made sure I took them right there in front of her, which I thought was pretty funny. After all it was potassium, not an anti-psychotic.
So I survived chemo three adding an extra appointment to see the nephrologist. When I got home I felt pretty yucky and wiped out. But I found a letter in my mailbox from the 12 year old daughter of an old friend. She had even included some pictures. Perfect timing.
Thursday I saw the nephrologist. She showed me the lab work and while my creatinine was a little higher than normal, it wasn't terrible. It was 1.4. Before starting chemo it was at 1.3. For perspective, normal levels for an adult female are 0.5 to 1.1 and dialysis is needed when you get to 10. So it's higher than normal, but not panic time. She was more concerned about my potassium level. Now before chemo I have to see her, too, not just the oncologist.
Thursday after treatment is the lowest day for me, so when I got home from the doc I just fell into bed and slept a few hours. The rest of the day I slept off and on in a recliner.
I'll try to describe how this feels. It's not like just being exhausted. It feels like dying. And not like I imagined that would feel like. It's not a spiritual kind of feeling. More like decay. Your skin hurts on the inside, like a low burning feeling. Only you feel cold on the outside and you can't get warm. Fortunately, the worst of that is Wednesday night and Thursday. Friday is mostly weakness. I went to work on Friday for half a day because I couldn't bear sitting home all day.
Here are some other fun facts about chemo: I now have a constant bad taste in my mouth. I suck on these frozen juice things that help with that a lot and they give me more liquid. I have to drink a lot of liquid. Since starting chemo my blood pressure has been steadily dropping. Yesterday my pressure was 103 over 60 so I didn't take my BP med. I have a minor headache most of time. Even on my good days I can't do too many things without stopping to rest. This is frustrating. It's like I'm 70 instead of 41. And, speaking of getting old, I've noticed a lot of new wrinkles. My face is starting to look aged. I hope this is a temporary thing and perhaps seems worse because of the baldness.
That's enough complaining for now! It's a beautiful day outside. In fact it's cool and I'm going to open the windows and air out the house.
And did you see the soccer cake I made for Jeremy? Pretty funny, huh? Well it was my first attempt and I was making it up as I went along. It's not like I had a special pan or anything. I baked the cake in an oven safe bowl to get the round shape.
Jeremy won Soccer All-District Honorable Mention as a defender. This is something all the coaches in the district vote on. Considering he's on the second to worst team in the district, I think it's pretty awesome that the other coaches noticed him and voted for him.
Forgetfulness or A funny thing happened on the way to chemo
I’m back. Did you think I just quit blogging? I know I’m way behind, but it’s getting harder to do this. When I started I thought it would be easy to log on each day and jot down a few things about how I was feeling. "Today is a good day. I got out of bed." "Today is a bad day, I can hardly move." But the truth is the chemo is getting harder and I’ve just been too weak and brain dead to think, let alone blog. Mostly this week I've been sitting and sleeping and waiting to feel better. And when I do feel good I want to use what little energy I have doing enjoyable things like being outside planting flowers or even just doing mundane things that make me feel normal. Like laundry. I know, sounds crazy, but the pure normalness of folding clothes makes me feel better. And I don’t have to think at all to fold shirts.
Monday I had my third treatment. But before I tell you about that I want to tell you about the stupid thing I did (or why I love living in a small town reason no. 36). These days there are so many things happening that I have to write everything down just to keep track of everything. Things like doctor appointments, days I have to have shots, chemo days, etc. If I don’t write it down on a calendar I forget.
Last Sunday evening about 8:30 I was going over a checklist in my mind for the next morning’s chemo treatment. That’s when I realized that I completely forgot to have my Emend prescription refilled. This is the med that I take an hour before chemo to prevent nausea. A very important pill, but I didn’t panic. I thought I’d have to have the doc call it in at a Shreveport pharmacy. Then I’d just have to kill an hour after taking it before having the chemo. No problem.
That’s when I remembered this is the med that the pharmacy has to order a day ahead of time. The pharmacies don’t stock it because it’s so expensive. Now I’m kicking myself. I know my pharmacist should have it because he said he’d order it for the next treatment each time I filled it. My doc appointment was for 8:10 a.m., which means I have to leave my house about 6:45. I thought maybe if I was lucky the pharmacy opened early, like around 7, and I could get it just before leaving town. I’d be a little late, but hey, at least I wouldn’t be sick.
This pharmacy also offers online services and durable medical supplies and stuff. So I went on-line to see if I could find the store hours. They didn't have the hours listed, but they did have a 24-hotline number for some of their services. I called that number just to see if they could tell me the store hours. I found myself telling the answering service why I needed to know when the store opened and he very rudely informed me that they didn’t open until 8 o’clock. But just as he was hanging up he said, “But I’ll tell Mr. Causey you called.” A few minutes later Causey called me. This is why I love living here. At 9 o’clock on a Sunday night, in his undershirt, the pharmacist met me at the store and gave me the medicine I needed for the morning. And he was perfectly cheerful about it even though it was my own forgetfulness and my own fault that I didn’t have it. Can you get that kind of service elsewhere? I don't really know, but I do know that here that sort of thing is not extraordinary.
Monday I had my third treatment. But before I tell you about that I want to tell you about the stupid thing I did (or why I love living in a small town reason no. 36). These days there are so many things happening that I have to write everything down just to keep track of everything. Things like doctor appointments, days I have to have shots, chemo days, etc. If I don’t write it down on a calendar I forget.
Last Sunday evening about 8:30 I was going over a checklist in my mind for the next morning’s chemo treatment. That’s when I realized that I completely forgot to have my Emend prescription refilled. This is the med that I take an hour before chemo to prevent nausea. A very important pill, but I didn’t panic. I thought I’d have to have the doc call it in at a Shreveport pharmacy. Then I’d just have to kill an hour after taking it before having the chemo. No problem.
That’s when I remembered this is the med that the pharmacy has to order a day ahead of time. The pharmacies don’t stock it because it’s so expensive. Now I’m kicking myself. I know my pharmacist should have it because he said he’d order it for the next treatment each time I filled it. My doc appointment was for 8:10 a.m., which means I have to leave my house about 6:45. I thought maybe if I was lucky the pharmacy opened early, like around 7, and I could get it just before leaving town. I’d be a little late, but hey, at least I wouldn’t be sick.
This pharmacy also offers online services and durable medical supplies and stuff. So I went on-line to see if I could find the store hours. They didn't have the hours listed, but they did have a 24-hotline number for some of their services. I called that number just to see if they could tell me the store hours. I found myself telling the answering service why I needed to know when the store opened and he very rudely informed me that they didn’t open until 8 o’clock. But just as he was hanging up he said, “But I’ll tell Mr. Causey you called.” A few minutes later Causey called me. This is why I love living here. At 9 o’clock on a Sunday night, in his undershirt, the pharmacist met me at the store and gave me the medicine I needed for the morning. And he was perfectly cheerful about it even though it was my own forgetfulness and my own fault that I didn’t have it. Can you get that kind of service elsewhere? I don't really know, but I do know that here that sort of thing is not extraordinary.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Jeremy's Birthday
Here's one of Jeremy's customized guitar picks that he got for his birthday. The symbol stands for Truth and Life.
Here is the soccer ball cake Dawn made for him.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Postscript
Back from doc.
The good news: The doc agrees it's not my imagination. The lump in my breast is considerably smaller.
The bad news: still anemic. The shots aren't doing their job well enough. We've added iron supplements. The doctor was quite surprised that I was feeling fine and still working and gardening and such. What he said was that I was "curiously asymptomatic" considering my blood levels. Then he laughed and said now that I knew, I'd probably be exhausted. He was joking, but little does he know, I'm totally suggestible and probably will be tired now. Thanks doc.
Looking forward to Jeremy's soccer banquet tonight.
The good news: The doc agrees it's not my imagination. The lump in my breast is considerably smaller.
The bad news: still anemic. The shots aren't doing their job well enough. We've added iron supplements. The doctor was quite surprised that I was feeling fine and still working and gardening and such. What he said was that I was "curiously asymptomatic" considering my blood levels. Then he laughed and said now that I knew, I'd probably be exhausted. He was joking, but little does he know, I'm totally suggestible and probably will be tired now. Thanks doc.
Looking forward to Jeremy's soccer banquet tonight.
Ordinary days
Last week was like ordinary life. I felt good. I wasn't tired. I worked a whole 40 hours. I went out to lunch with friends. Over the weekend I cooked and did laundry. I cleaned up and weeded the flower bed and planted flowers. Then we had a storm that battered the new plants. I hope they recover.
What I didn't do was any writing or blogging. As much as I enjoy sharing deep thoughts, (not to mention being in love with my own words and ideas) after all day in front of a computer at work, I couldn't bring myself to open my computer at home. And the weather was so perfect Saturday and Sunday I just had to take advantage of it. But I was happy to have an uneventful week.
Uneventful, except that Jeremy was confirmed. I had plenty of deep thoughts that night, but I think I'll keep them to myself. In my older age I'm starting to learn some self-restraint when it comes to sharing everything I think about.
Expressed concern from family and friends and perhaps a moment of common sense has led me to change my work hours for the duration of treatment. I'm going back to eight hour days, five day weeks. I'm going to miss my Mondays off, but ten hours/day was too much some weeks.
Yesterday I got a call from the surgeon's office. He wanted to see me before the port surgery. He just could not believe the dang thing had turned around. Of course, he knew it had, because he'd seen the CT scans. Perhaps you heard about the storms and flooding in Shreveport yesterday, the traffic fatalities. The good thing that happened yesterday (for me) was that the clouds blew away and everything dried up before I had to drive up there.
Anyway, the doc turned the port around. Just squeezing it through my skin he moved it around and flipped it over. Yes, OUCH! But worth it. It looks like no surgery today. Unless it flipped again while I slept, but I don't think so. It's protruding from my chest once again. I can really feel the difference. I have an appointment with the oncologist today and will have blood drawn from the port. We'll know for sure then.
Here's a happy thing: I still haven't lost my eyebrows or eyelashes. Woohoo! Being bald isn't so bad. The hats are comfortable and, still having eyebrows and eyelashes, I don't look sick. Also if I get hot at home I just take off my hat and instantly cool off. Unfortunately, the hair on my legs is still growing. No shaving my legs was supposed to be a good consequence of chemo!
Another happy thing: I can't feel the lump in my neck anymore! That doesn't mean it's gone, but it does mean it's smaller which is what this chemo is all about. The one in my breast is also changing and is harder to find. Everyone clap your hands and say yippee!
Now I'm off to see the cancer doc.
What I didn't do was any writing or blogging. As much as I enjoy sharing deep thoughts, (not to mention being in love with my own words and ideas) after all day in front of a computer at work, I couldn't bring myself to open my computer at home. And the weather was so perfect Saturday and Sunday I just had to take advantage of it. But I was happy to have an uneventful week.
Uneventful, except that Jeremy was confirmed. I had plenty of deep thoughts that night, but I think I'll keep them to myself. In my older age I'm starting to learn some self-restraint when it comes to sharing everything I think about.
Expressed concern from family and friends and perhaps a moment of common sense has led me to change my work hours for the duration of treatment. I'm going back to eight hour days, five day weeks. I'm going to miss my Mondays off, but ten hours/day was too much some weeks.
Yesterday I got a call from the surgeon's office. He wanted to see me before the port surgery. He just could not believe the dang thing had turned around. Of course, he knew it had, because he'd seen the CT scans. Perhaps you heard about the storms and flooding in Shreveport yesterday, the traffic fatalities. The good thing that happened yesterday (for me) was that the clouds blew away and everything dried up before I had to drive up there.
Anyway, the doc turned the port around. Just squeezing it through my skin he moved it around and flipped it over. Yes, OUCH! But worth it. It looks like no surgery today. Unless it flipped again while I slept, but I don't think so. It's protruding from my chest once again. I can really feel the difference. I have an appointment with the oncologist today and will have blood drawn from the port. We'll know for sure then.
Here's a happy thing: I still haven't lost my eyebrows or eyelashes. Woohoo! Being bald isn't so bad. The hats are comfortable and, still having eyebrows and eyelashes, I don't look sick. Also if I get hot at home I just take off my hat and instantly cool off. Unfortunately, the hair on my legs is still growing. No shaving my legs was supposed to be a good consequence of chemo!
Another happy thing: I can't feel the lump in my neck anymore! That doesn't mean it's gone, but it does mean it's smaller which is what this chemo is all about. The one in my breast is also changing and is harder to find. Everyone clap your hands and say yippee!
Now I'm off to see the cancer doc.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Jeremy's Confirmation
Okay - it's kind of off-topic but here are some really bad pics of Jeremy's confirmation taken with my cell-phone cam.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Two down - six to go
Last Monday I had the second chemo treatment. This post has been a long time coming, but this time chemo kicked my a--! I'm not really sure if it was the chemo or the shots on Tuesday and Thursday or trying to work 10 hour days. I guess all three combined to wipe me out. I was too tired every day to think about blogging or to do anything. Wednesday I went to work, but soon went home. I tried again Thursday and stuck it out all day, but that was a mistake. Friday I was too weak to move all day. I just sat in the recliner.
You can't imagine how tired and weak you can be. I felt like I was 100 years old.
That's not the really interesting thing about this second treatment though. No, the fun began Monday morning when I went for chemo. Luke went with me, even though I thought I could manage on my own. That was the good thing that happened that day. We arrived at the Cancer Treatment Center about 10 am. Each time the first thing they do is take blood, then you see the doctor or nurse practitioner, then have the chemo. This time, however, the substitute nurse (Mary wasn't in) poked the needle into the port only to have it hit a wall. She poked and poked again and could not get in. Then she grabbed another nurse who also poked around. Yes, that's right, they were stabbing me in the chest with a needle over and over. Granted it's a tiny needle, but still.
Anyway they wanted to know if the port had been accessed before. Of course, I told them. Patty, over in chemo had no trouble. So they called Patty and she came in and said, uh oh, the port turned around. It's backwards. It happens.
What does this mean? I'll tell you. It meant I spent the day waiting on radiology to take x-rays to make sure it was backwards. Then waiting on CT because the dang thing is plastic and can't be seen on the x-ray. Then waiting for the radiologist to come and decide if he wanted to try to turn it around. (Don't ask how, I don't want to talk about it.) Then finally, after all day, they had to inject the chemo right into my arm. Have I mentioned before what terrible veins I have?
Patty put a hot cloth on my arm. I guess that makes the vein easier to stab. For the first drug Patty told me that if the vein is punctured and the chemo leaks it'll cause third degree burns and she instructed me to scream if I felt any pain or burning. These are her words, "don't be brave, scream immediately." These are not words you want to hear when someone is sticking a needle/tube in your arm.
But, thankfully, she knew her stuff and I wasn't burned. Luke ran out and got us some dinner and we ate while I had the second drug. We finally finished and could go home a little after 5 pm. That's right, seven hours at the hospital. Then we had the drive home. It was a long day and if Luke hadn't been there, I might have mortally wounded one of the x-ray techs.
You are probably wondering how the port got turned around. Patty said probably because I sleep on my side and I'll have to stop sleeping that way. Is she kidding? Have you ever tried to change the position you sleep in? What new hell will I have to endure?
That's not the end though. The port is still backward. I have to have surgery again to turn the port around or replace it before my next chemo treatment. And they have to stick my arm again to draw blood before surgery. The joy never ends.
The good thing that happened: Saturday was our local Jazz/R&B music Festival (easy on the jazz) and the day was beautiful. I felt good enough to go out there for a couple hours and see Luke perform with the NSU Jazz Band (probably the only actual jazz at the festival) and see a few other bands too. Not to mention seeing friends we haven't seen for a while.
Things I want to do: Can you believe I can't think of anything I want to do?
You can't imagine how tired and weak you can be. I felt like I was 100 years old.
That's not the really interesting thing about this second treatment though. No, the fun began Monday morning when I went for chemo. Luke went with me, even though I thought I could manage on my own. That was the good thing that happened that day. We arrived at the Cancer Treatment Center about 10 am. Each time the first thing they do is take blood, then you see the doctor or nurse practitioner, then have the chemo. This time, however, the substitute nurse (Mary wasn't in) poked the needle into the port only to have it hit a wall. She poked and poked again and could not get in. Then she grabbed another nurse who also poked around. Yes, that's right, they were stabbing me in the chest with a needle over and over. Granted it's a tiny needle, but still.
Anyway they wanted to know if the port had been accessed before. Of course, I told them. Patty, over in chemo had no trouble. So they called Patty and she came in and said, uh oh, the port turned around. It's backwards. It happens.
What does this mean? I'll tell you. It meant I spent the day waiting on radiology to take x-rays to make sure it was backwards. Then waiting on CT because the dang thing is plastic and can't be seen on the x-ray. Then waiting for the radiologist to come and decide if he wanted to try to turn it around. (Don't ask how, I don't want to talk about it.) Then finally, after all day, they had to inject the chemo right into my arm. Have I mentioned before what terrible veins I have?
Patty put a hot cloth on my arm. I guess that makes the vein easier to stab. For the first drug Patty told me that if the vein is punctured and the chemo leaks it'll cause third degree burns and she instructed me to scream if I felt any pain or burning. These are her words, "don't be brave, scream immediately." These are not words you want to hear when someone is sticking a needle/tube in your arm.
But, thankfully, she knew her stuff and I wasn't burned. Luke ran out and got us some dinner and we ate while I had the second drug. We finally finished and could go home a little after 5 pm. That's right, seven hours at the hospital. Then we had the drive home. It was a long day and if Luke hadn't been there, I might have mortally wounded one of the x-ray techs.
You are probably wondering how the port got turned around. Patty said probably because I sleep on my side and I'll have to stop sleeping that way. Is she kidding? Have you ever tried to change the position you sleep in? What new hell will I have to endure?
That's not the end though. The port is still backward. I have to have surgery again to turn the port around or replace it before my next chemo treatment. And they have to stick my arm again to draw blood before surgery. The joy never ends.
The good thing that happened: Saturday was our local Jazz/R&B music Festival (easy on the jazz) and the day was beautiful. I felt good enough to go out there for a couple hours and see Luke perform with the NSU Jazz Band (probably the only actual jazz at the festival) and see a few other bands too. Not to mention seeing friends we haven't seen for a while.
Things I want to do: Can you believe I can't think of anything I want to do?
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Friday, March 25, 2005
My photos
I hope you've followed Luke's link to the haircut photos. Those of you who know me are wondering about now how I could let him take those pictures. As you know, I'm one of those people who hide from the camera. As a teenager and young adult I was petite and thin. As I got older and remarried I grew outward and so hate to see pictures of myself. Photos always surprise and mortify me because I don't look as big to myself in the mirror (or in my mind) as I do in photos. Having said that, then why all these pictures? I'll tell you.
I have to face this thing dead on. I have to look right at every aspect of it no matter how unflattering and say, so what? As I grew heavier I remained proud of my thick, healthy, wavy/curly hair. You can see from the pictures, even though it was short, there was a lot to come off because it's so thick. Now it's gone. And I've been told there's no telling what will grow back. It could be a different color or texture or anything. And I say, so what?
I'm not suggesting this is easy. Having Jeremy and Luke give me a buzz cut was my way of taking a little control. There's so little you can control with cancer. And it gave us a chance to laugh and make fun of the whole thing together.
It's painful to look in the mirror and see dark stuble on a big round head. But it is what it is. Life is change and this is the journey my family and I have to take. Documenting it in words and photos is our way of saying #*@% Cancer!
I have to face this thing dead on. I have to look right at every aspect of it no matter how unflattering and say, so what? As I grew heavier I remained proud of my thick, healthy, wavy/curly hair. You can see from the pictures, even though it was short, there was a lot to come off because it's so thick. Now it's gone. And I've been told there's no telling what will grow back. It could be a different color or texture or anything. And I say, so what?
I'm not suggesting this is easy. Having Jeremy and Luke give me a buzz cut was my way of taking a little control. There's so little you can control with cancer. And it gave us a chance to laugh and make fun of the whole thing together.
It's painful to look in the mirror and see dark stuble on a big round head. But it is what it is. Life is change and this is the journey my family and I have to take. Documenting it in words and photos is our way of saying #*@% Cancer!
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Dawn's Haircut (Photogallery Link)
Alright here's the photo gallery everyone has been waiting for (or dreading as the case may be). Took the photos with my phone. There were so many shots I put it off site on our regular home page so it would be more convenient. Click Here for the Haircut Gallery.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Hair phase two
For over a week now I've been tugging on my hair to see if it's coming out. I was afraid it would start dropping out of my head at work or in Walmart or something. At first when I tugged my hair held fast, but then a day or two ago I'd get about three hairs between my fingers when I'd tug. Until today. Today with just a gentle pull locks of hair came free.
I decided that rather than wait for it to drop all over the place it was time to take action. The less hair to fall out the better.
Picture the scene. It was a family affair out in the backyard. Jeremy, with electric trimmer in hand, happy to have the chance to pay me back for the buzz cut I gave him when he was 10 or 11. He insisted on leaving one little curl up front. Then he shaved a 42 into the top of my head for fans of "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy."
Not quite satisfied it was short enough, we decided to go farther. Luke went over my head again with the trimmer set at the shortest it would go (leaving the curl).
Luke called me G.I. Jane. Jay was there too. He's been Jeremy's friend since they were little. We call him our other son. Jay says now I can hang with the cool kids.
Luke, of course, documented the entire scene with his camera phone. He'll post the pictures for everyone to enjoy (or be horror struck by).
Tomorrow I start wearing my hats.
I decided that rather than wait for it to drop all over the place it was time to take action. The less hair to fall out the better.
Picture the scene. It was a family affair out in the backyard. Jeremy, with electric trimmer in hand, happy to have the chance to pay me back for the buzz cut I gave him when he was 10 or 11. He insisted on leaving one little curl up front. Then he shaved a 42 into the top of my head for fans of "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy."
Not quite satisfied it was short enough, we decided to go farther. Luke went over my head again with the trimmer set at the shortest it would go (leaving the curl).
Luke called me G.I. Jane. Jay was there too. He's been Jeremy's friend since they were little. We call him our other son. Jay says now I can hang with the cool kids.
Luke, of course, documented the entire scene with his camera phone. He'll post the pictures for everyone to enjoy (or be horror struck by).
Tomorrow I start wearing my hats.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Tuesday
Am very very tired today. I started to get weak at work and now I'm really tired. I'm sure I'll go to bed early. These 10 hour work days may prove too much after a while. But I love my four day weeks. We'll see. I'll just do what I can do.
I managed, at last, to arrange to have the two shots at NPH. Yippee. That'll save a fortune in gas and time.
The good thing that happened: tax refund. Huh? Yep, that's right.
Things I'm thankful for: the new mattresses we got for Christmas. Very comfy!
I managed, at last, to arrange to have the two shots at NPH. Yippee. That'll save a fortune in gas and time.
The good thing that happened: tax refund. Huh? Yep, that's right.
Things I'm thankful for: the new mattresses we got for Christmas. Very comfy!
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