This is probably a poor choice of words, but I'm still alive. I know I haven't written in a very long time but in my defense I do have cancer.
It kind of sucks that I haven't been keeping up with posting on the blog because I feel like I need to recap the last 6 weeks from my perspective but honestly I can't. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast today. The chemo brain (a.k.a.-lack of short term memory) has really kicked in. I feel generally stupid a lot of the time. I think I can say that, right? I mean there isn't a lobby for stupid people out there, is there? If there is then they aren't that stupid because they've organized themselves and are probably trying to become a protected class. Frankly, stupid people should be a protected class and we should be the ones protected from them. But I digress.
If I sound a little mean today it's because I haven't been feeling well all weekend. Why? Um, let me see...oh yes...I HAVE CANCER!!!
I must say I am so over it. And I'm even more over Nathan's cancer. His cancer is way worse than mine. This chemo/radiation regimen he is on currently is horrendous. He leaves every morning at 6:30 am to go into the city, has his radiation treatment at 7:20 for 20 minutes and then he's back by 8:30. He then spends the rest of the day in bed or running to the bathroom. I have never seen him so wiped out. He can literally sleep for hours and has no energy to do anything other than watch multiple seasons of 24 or play RISK on his iPhone. I know, I know. We missed that series when it was on in real time but thanks to cancer we are filling in our pop culture knowledge gap on all things related to Jack Bauer.
While I am discussing his chemo/radiation regimen, I just want to thank the many volunteers who are waking up with roosters to chauffer Nathan to and fro. We know it's not the easiest way to start your day so thank you again.
I'd like to send a belated thank you to Nadia Ackerman and all the musicians who I heard put on an amazing concert. I have to say I was truly bummed to have missed it. I mean a concert with all our favorite songs. Who wouldn't want to go to that? Stupid seizure. The only good part about being in the hospital was that I got two full nights of uninterrupted sleep. That hasn't happened in the last two years. I might as well have been at Canyon Ranch.
A big thanks to Todd Lambrix and the many artists who donated their work to the art benefit last week. It was such a brilliant idea and friends were texting us all evening about what piece they were hoping to snag.
LIVESTRONG also donated the proceeds from their booth at the NYC 5 Boro Bike Tour to us. In fact, there are many events being held in our honor and for our benefit. We can't thank you all enough not only for your generosity but also for your good wishes, time, effort and prayers.
I'm going to sign off now because if I write anymore I am going to over think it, delete it or keep it as a draft and it will be another week before I write again.
xoxo, Gossip Girl...oh no...did I just admit to that?!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Blog Interrupted
Writers note: This entry was written in two parts – about a week between them. So it has a major jump half way through.
So I am sure that you are all missing wife’s witty prose by now, as am I. This cold that she has had for over two weeks now just won't seem to go away. It is one of the drawbacks of cancer - suppressed immune system. Her mother has also been very sick this whole time. This has added a new challenge as Eileen was one of regular babysitters for Sadie, but also such a major emotional support for Elisa (well for anyone around her, including me).
So you are all stuck with me for a bit longer. As I think back over the couple of weeks I am not really even sure where to start. Time, when you have cancer seems very different. A week seems more like a month, a day - a week. Not in productivity however (we can't seem to get even the smallest things checked off our to do list), it's more in exhaustion. At the same time the days are slipping by quickly. To quote David Eggers "I am losing days like pens in a couch". Elisa and I were talking about this the other night. When we first got our diagnoses we both had this thought that there would be lots of long boring days of laying around (feeling like shit of course), surfing through bad television and reading books. Let me tell you that the cancer vacation package you see advertised on TV is a scam! We are having a hard time even making room for naps (our doctors are not terribly excited about this by the way).
So I guess let me start with some good news! Yes, that is right: GOOD NEWS! I have finished my first round of chemotherapy and had my MRI to check my progress..... My tumor has shrunk! Shrunk enough to make my oncologist smile!!! I even thought I might get to skip ahead in my treatment, as if I had aced an advanced placement test for a college credit. No dice. This does however mean that the tumor has been very responsive to the chemotherapy, and will most likely respond well to the next stage of treatment too. So now I have been approved to move onto radiation and chemo. I start Monday. I will have radiation five days a week for five and a half weeks and have a continual infusion of chemotherapy the whole time as well. I feel really good to have finished the first stage of the treatment. I feel like progress is being made. I have to admit here that I am a bit nervous about this next stage. Having the bottle of chemo attached to me for the two day infusion was not particularly fun so I can only imagine what it is going to be like having it hooked in for almost six weeks. Since the needle that infuses the chemo is only held in place by a bandage, it cannot get wet. This means no showers folks. They now sell these patches you can place over the port area to prevent water from reaching the dressing that might splash up on it, but you still are not allowed to have water directly hit the area even with the aqua guard. This is particularly annoying for me, as Elisa will attest too; I love to stand in the shower. It is one of the more relaxing times of the day for me. So it looks like weeks of sponge baths are ahead. Among the many lessons that I am taking away from having cancer: a new appreciation for indoor pluming.
Here is that major jump in time!
So cancer does not seem to give a fuck about your plans. The prior part of the post was written last weekend, and a lot has happened since that made finishing it impossible. So I am just going to make the transition without a CNN worthy segue.
On Monday morning I was in the shower, taking my last regular shower I was talking about earlier and Elisa was mediating in the bedroom. When I got out, I heard Elisa call out to me faintly. I could tell by her voice something was wrong. I ran to the bedroom to find her lying down, crying on the bed. There was blood on the pillow under her head. She was confused and wasn't able to tell me what was happening except that her tongue hurt and that she was nauseous. She opened her mouth for me and her tongue was incredibly swollen and bleeding from a couple of different spots. Then I noticed the large swollen red area on her head. I don't think that there have been many times in my life when I have been more scared or felt as helpless. She told me she didn't know how she got on the bed and that when she woke up she was very confused about why she felt bad and was trying to figure out if she was remembering correctly that she had cancer. I called her oncologist and got us ready to go to the hospital. Skipping over some details, two hours later she was admitted to the ER. Her mother was with us now and so we waited as they took blood and started to run tests. I had to leave shortly after they admitted her to go to get my first round of chemo and radiation. I was extremely frustrated and saddened that had to leave her side to go to my treatment. Stupid fucking tumor.
My plan was to come right back after my treatment was finished. Again, cancer does give a fuck about your plans. When they ran my blood work (they always do this before chemo) my white blood count was very low, almost to low to start, but they gave me my seven-day infusion bottle. However they told me that I could not risk going back to the hospital to see Elisa. My heart sank. I was not even going to be able to help comfort my wife. I didn't know I could feel even more helpless than I did when I found her that morning. This is where I would write a string of curses to express my frustration, but you get the idea. So I was left to go home and wait for news about her. Sadie was going to home from daycare soon. The news was scary. She had had a seizure. They wanted to run an MRI to see if there was spread of the cancer to the brain and if that is what had caused it. They were also going to admit her to the hospital overnight. Her father and mother were there with her, so I know she was in good hands as far a support. So now it was the waiting that was driving me crazy. Luckily it is impossible to be around Sadie and not feel joy, so my spirits were lifted when she came home. Our dear friend Tanya came over to stay the night and help out with Sadie. They would not get the results form the MRI until the next day. Elisa's tongue was too swollen to talk, so we texted each other our goodnights.
In the middle of the night Sadie came down with a fever, luckily not too high, but enough to make her miserable and so I brought her I to bed with me to sleep. She tossed all night. So there would be no daycare the next day. I had radiation again in the afternoon so cousin (and saint) Rachelle took the day of from work and watched Sadie. By late morning the MRI results came back clear! Huge sigh of relief! However during the night her white blood cell count dropped to a critical level. They moved her to a private room and all visitors had to wear gowns, gloves and face masks due to the risk of her catching anything from them. They gave her some meds to bring her levels back up but she would have to stay another night in the hospital.
Meanwhile the doctors told me I was still not allowed to go see her and that I should not be around Sadie either until she was better. Really?!!! WTF! Now I can't help either of my girls. I need a stronger word for “frustrated” here! So Sadie stayed with Rachelle and her grandmother that night.
Sadie slept well and had no more fever that night, she could come home the next night. Elisa's white blood count was back up and she would be home that night too. Big smile! (We are up to Wednesday night now). She would have to go in for her chemo the next day. Of course they would have to check all her levels to make sure she was in good enough shape to handle the drugs first. So Thursday when they tested her blood they found that her red blood cell count is critically low. They only gave her one of the two chemo drugs. They are going to have to give her a blood infusion on Friday to get her levels back up. Again, WTF! Also they have started her on anti seizure meds and is not allowed to drive or be alone in the house when she takes a bath for three months. So that is where we are now. I am on my way for my fifth round of radiation and to have my white blood count checked again and Elisa is sitting through a six-hour blood infusion. It has been a long week. Here's hoping next week is a little less interesting.
So I am sure that you are all missing wife’s witty prose by now, as am I. This cold that she has had for over two weeks now just won't seem to go away. It is one of the drawbacks of cancer - suppressed immune system. Her mother has also been very sick this whole time. This has added a new challenge as Eileen was one of regular babysitters for Sadie, but also such a major emotional support for Elisa (well for anyone around her, including me).
So you are all stuck with me for a bit longer. As I think back over the couple of weeks I am not really even sure where to start. Time, when you have cancer seems very different. A week seems more like a month, a day - a week. Not in productivity however (we can't seem to get even the smallest things checked off our to do list), it's more in exhaustion. At the same time the days are slipping by quickly. To quote David Eggers "I am losing days like pens in a couch". Elisa and I were talking about this the other night. When we first got our diagnoses we both had this thought that there would be lots of long boring days of laying around (feeling like shit of course), surfing through bad television and reading books. Let me tell you that the cancer vacation package you see advertised on TV is a scam! We are having a hard time even making room for naps (our doctors are not terribly excited about this by the way).
So I guess let me start with some good news! Yes, that is right: GOOD NEWS! I have finished my first round of chemotherapy and had my MRI to check my progress..... My tumor has shrunk! Shrunk enough to make my oncologist smile!!! I even thought I might get to skip ahead in my treatment, as if I had aced an advanced placement test for a college credit. No dice. This does however mean that the tumor has been very responsive to the chemotherapy, and will most likely respond well to the next stage of treatment too. So now I have been approved to move onto radiation and chemo. I start Monday. I will have radiation five days a week for five and a half weeks and have a continual infusion of chemotherapy the whole time as well. I feel really good to have finished the first stage of the treatment. I feel like progress is being made. I have to admit here that I am a bit nervous about this next stage. Having the bottle of chemo attached to me for the two day infusion was not particularly fun so I can only imagine what it is going to be like having it hooked in for almost six weeks. Since the needle that infuses the chemo is only held in place by a bandage, it cannot get wet. This means no showers folks. They now sell these patches you can place over the port area to prevent water from reaching the dressing that might splash up on it, but you still are not allowed to have water directly hit the area even with the aqua guard. This is particularly annoying for me, as Elisa will attest too; I love to stand in the shower. It is one of the more relaxing times of the day for me. So it looks like weeks of sponge baths are ahead. Among the many lessons that I am taking away from having cancer: a new appreciation for indoor pluming.
Here is that major jump in time!
So cancer does not seem to give a fuck about your plans. The prior part of the post was written last weekend, and a lot has happened since that made finishing it impossible. So I am just going to make the transition without a CNN worthy segue.
On Monday morning I was in the shower, taking my last regular shower I was talking about earlier and Elisa was mediating in the bedroom. When I got out, I heard Elisa call out to me faintly. I could tell by her voice something was wrong. I ran to the bedroom to find her lying down, crying on the bed. There was blood on the pillow under her head. She was confused and wasn't able to tell me what was happening except that her tongue hurt and that she was nauseous. She opened her mouth for me and her tongue was incredibly swollen and bleeding from a couple of different spots. Then I noticed the large swollen red area on her head. I don't think that there have been many times in my life when I have been more scared or felt as helpless. She told me she didn't know how she got on the bed and that when she woke up she was very confused about why she felt bad and was trying to figure out if she was remembering correctly that she had cancer. I called her oncologist and got us ready to go to the hospital. Skipping over some details, two hours later she was admitted to the ER. Her mother was with us now and so we waited as they took blood and started to run tests. I had to leave shortly after they admitted her to go to get my first round of chemo and radiation. I was extremely frustrated and saddened that had to leave her side to go to my treatment. Stupid fucking tumor.
My plan was to come right back after my treatment was finished. Again, cancer does give a fuck about your plans. When they ran my blood work (they always do this before chemo) my white blood count was very low, almost to low to start, but they gave me my seven-day infusion bottle. However they told me that I could not risk going back to the hospital to see Elisa. My heart sank. I was not even going to be able to help comfort my wife. I didn't know I could feel even more helpless than I did when I found her that morning. This is where I would write a string of curses to express my frustration, but you get the idea. So I was left to go home and wait for news about her. Sadie was going to home from daycare soon. The news was scary. She had had a seizure. They wanted to run an MRI to see if there was spread of the cancer to the brain and if that is what had caused it. They were also going to admit her to the hospital overnight. Her father and mother were there with her, so I know she was in good hands as far a support. So now it was the waiting that was driving me crazy. Luckily it is impossible to be around Sadie and not feel joy, so my spirits were lifted when she came home. Our dear friend Tanya came over to stay the night and help out with Sadie. They would not get the results form the MRI until the next day. Elisa's tongue was too swollen to talk, so we texted each other our goodnights.
In the middle of the night Sadie came down with a fever, luckily not too high, but enough to make her miserable and so I brought her I to bed with me to sleep. She tossed all night. So there would be no daycare the next day. I had radiation again in the afternoon so cousin (and saint) Rachelle took the day of from work and watched Sadie. By late morning the MRI results came back clear! Huge sigh of relief! However during the night her white blood cell count dropped to a critical level. They moved her to a private room and all visitors had to wear gowns, gloves and face masks due to the risk of her catching anything from them. They gave her some meds to bring her levels back up but she would have to stay another night in the hospital.
Meanwhile the doctors told me I was still not allowed to go see her and that I should not be around Sadie either until she was better. Really?!!! WTF! Now I can't help either of my girls. I need a stronger word for “frustrated” here! So Sadie stayed with Rachelle and her grandmother that night.
Sadie slept well and had no more fever that night, she could come home the next night. Elisa's white blood count was back up and she would be home that night too. Big smile! (We are up to Wednesday night now). She would have to go in for her chemo the next day. Of course they would have to check all her levels to make sure she was in good enough shape to handle the drugs first. So Thursday when they tested her blood they found that her red blood cell count is critically low. They only gave her one of the two chemo drugs. They are going to have to give her a blood infusion on Friday to get her levels back up. Again, WTF! Also they have started her on anti seizure meds and is not allowed to drive or be alone in the house when she takes a bath for three months. So that is where we are now. I am on my way for my fifth round of radiation and to have my white blood count checked again and Elisa is sitting through a six-hour blood infusion. It has been a long week. Here's hoping next week is a little less interesting.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
STOP! Potty Time!
Okay there is a blog post in my drafts box from last night when I was up late night for no good reason but I haven't finished it yet. In the meantime, we have breaking news on the Sadie Abigail front. After about 20 minutes of sitting on the potty (the training one) success! Sadie made an actual pee pee in the potty. She was thrilled as am I. Her cousin, Fiona, and bestie, Alice, have been making great strides on the potty training front this week. Thank goodness for some positive peer pressure.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sadie Time
I am only going to give a brief summery of what has been happening to the two of us, as I will be letting Elisa fill in a lot of the details. I am doing this for three reasons. First, (my own selfish reason), because I love reading her writing. It always makes me feel better. Secondly, a lot of what has been happening has to do with her and she is the best person to share those thoughts and feelings. And lastly, but by no means least, I want to keep ya’ll up to date on the most important part of our lives – Sadie.
So quickly us….
It has been a fairly crummy week health wise. The Sunday before last I had to go to the Urgent care center due to having a fever (they make you go if you have a fever over 100.4 -mine was 101.3). Of course this happens in the middle of the night. So off to the hospital I went at 11:45 pm. Thankfully, our good friend Caroline was staying with us and was able to take me to the hospital. Our hope was that Elisa would be able to get some sleep as well as Sadie. This has been one of the tough spots with both of us having cancer. We have had to decide that it is healthier for us if we try to not go to each other’s appointments. Otherwise, we would never get any rest. But, of course, our hearts are not so fond of this idea. Anyway, Elisa of course didn’t sleep because she was worried. Finally I received the all clear at 4:30am -just one of those fevers that can’t be figured out. This is what led to the onset of the soar throat and cold that just won’t leave Elisa alone. She has been coughing pretty much none stop for the past week. Otherwise, things have been pretty much run of the mill cancer patient around here. Shaving heads, forcing food down, not sleeping, getting chemo, you know, the usual suspects. But again, Elisa will be putting her wonderful humor to all this once she kicks this cold.
Warning: Father gushing over child ahead!
So on to the amazing Sadie. The Sadie that clearly has been working on her bachelors of engineering while at daycare. One night last week (from her crib) she used her crazy strong, long arms to grab items from a near by table to build a rudimentary ladder and climbed out of her crib! That is right, Houdini is back! So we have had to change her crib to a “big girl” bed. She loves this! However I can’t help but think that this is just step one in some grand master plan she has been plotting. Time to hide those keys to the car! Good thing she is still a couple of weeks away from being able to turn the doorknobs! She is also starting to say every word that she hears. For those of you that live in New York, heck, even if you have driven through New York, you will know that this means your kid is going to hear some interesting (colorful) words. Like (as Sadie says) “’Oly Shh”. Good thing she can’t read this blog yet! She is also starting to string those words together. My favorite paring so far, of course, has to be “Daddy do”. Yesterday morning she woke up and said, “Where are you Bunny”, - Bunny being her new stuffed animal companion (poor monkey…his heart broken). Ahh, the first in a long line of heart broken men I fear.
She is also quickly developing a strong sense of self. She is playing with her toys on her own for longer periods of time and carrying on little conversations too. I can’t wait until they actually contain words I can understand so I can listen in on her amazing thoughts!
She also knows what she does not want, and knows how to tell you. Last night Elisa and I were giving her a bath. Typically she loves this and even helps to wash herself. However, last night she was not into having her hair washed. When I started to lather the shampoo she absent-mindedly began to say “No”, but continued to play without looking up. As soon as she realized that this was not deterring me from washing her hair, she looked up, furrowed her eyebrows, pursed her lips, stared me square in the eye, and with perfect enunciation, yelled “NO!” Sorry Sadie, we didn’t mean to gloss over your wishes, but Elisa and I busted out laughing. It was the cutest face anyone has ever yelled at me with!
It is so amazing to watch her make connections between things too. When we first cut Elisa’s hair, we wanted to make sure she was there to watch so that it wouldn’t be a shock to her. It may have helped that my hair is already short, because she didn’t even seem to notice. We put Elisa’s hair into several ponytails so that they would stay long enough to be able to donate them later to Locks of Love. We laid them out for the night on the dinning room table to be packed up later. The next day we looked at the photographs that our dear friend Betsy had taken of the haircutting event. She had posted them online, so Elisa, her mom, Eileen, Sadie and I were all sitting at the table looking the pictures on our laptop. Betsy had created a beautiful slide show and put music to it, so it was very moving to see the images, and Elisa started to cry a little (me too). Sadie looked over at her (she was sitting between us in Eileen’s lap) and saw that she was crying. She reached out and placed her hand on Elisa’s shoulder in what could only be interpreted as a consoling manner. This, of course, did not help me stop crying. Next she points to the ponytails that are lying just beyond the computer and says “Mama?”
She leans forward and tries to grab one. So I hand her one to hold. She lifts it up and says “Mama” again as she tries to put it back on Elisa’s head (the right direction I might proudly point out). If I ever thought that she was not aware of what was going on around the house these days, that thought is gone. That moment, with its mix of sadness, astonishment, pride and joy will be one that I hang on to for a long time. It makes me happy that my little girl has such a sensitive intuition, and yet sad that she is having to feel all these different, and sometimes heavy emotions in our home. It inspires me in a big way too. It inspires me to overcome the little bumps that we face each week. I see my wife’s strength and love in her, and this gives me strength. So thank you Sadie. You make your Daddy stronger, and very proud.
I also wanted to say thank you again to our family and friends: Matt, who flew over from San Francisco, Kristen who flew in from Dallas, Caroline who flew in from Oregon, Dala who flew up from North Carolina, Aunt Vikii who flew in from St. Maarten, and ‘Uelita and Miana who are always filling in the gaps and help to take care of us. We love you guys! You are all so incredible kind and loving… and great caregivers! We miss you already.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Good, The Bad and The Chemo
I don't know. I don't know what to write about anymore. Since our story went "viral" last week I feel a little trapped in my mind. This blog was where I was processing. It was already difficult knowing that people I love dearly would be reading my inner most fears, learning more bad news and having to endure my sailor-esque vocabulary but I made a conscious decision to not censor myself and Nathan supported that. It was also the easiest way to communicate with those people what was going on without having to repeat ourselves a hundred times which in and of itself is exhausting. But now I feel even more exposed. Who's reading? Do they expect something of us? Screw it. I can't worry about other people. I've got bigger fish to fry. There's a lot to say about the last week and this may only be a partial recap of what's been going on. It's 4 in the morning and I'm not sure when I'll run out of steam.
Nathan and I are deeply, deeply grateful for and in awe of the global outpouring of love, support and inspiration. I mean literally GLOBAL. Who could ever have seen this coming? I guess it's happened before. Wait, I know it has. Sometimes people receive a lot of attention for doing nothing other than finding themselves in a seriously shitty situation. The Chilean miners come to mind. It's just that you never imagine it's going to be you, or rather, we never imagined it would be us. None of it. We never imagined one of us having cancer. We never imagined both of us having cancer. We never imagined both of us having cancer at the same time. We never imagined our family and friends rallying to our side with one goal in mind, a happy ending. We never imagined that that goal would be shared with people all over the world. And we never imagined we would feel so blessed for all of it. That's the thing about shitty situations. They can give you more blessings than the burden itself. They can teach you more than you wanted to know. They can heal you beyond your pain.
Don't get me wrong. If I had the choice for Nathan and I NOT to have cancer, I would take it. In a heartbeat, I would take it for Sadie's sake, for our parents and for all those people who love us and worry about us. We didn't choose our diagnoses, but we do choose to be in a state of gratitude. There is too much love and healing coming our way not to feel blessed.
So I guess I would say that emotionally/spiritually we're in a really good place. As for our physical states of being, we're still looking for improvement. Warning: If you're squeamish, skip the rest of this post. My first week after treatment was truly awful. I was puking and had diarrhea for 6 days straight. I was afraid to be more than 2 feet from a bathroom at all times. In between trips to the bathroom, I made sleeping an Olympic sport. To add insult to injury, I got my period. Yes, my period. Even though I was two weeks late (no doubt due to a mild case of stress) and the fact that menstruation should cease during chemo, I got it 3 days after my treatment. I blame the super moon. I just wish I had know it was coming because I was experiencing extreme pain in my lower abdomen and lower back and the fear took over. I cried to Nathan, "It's spreading." That's the problem with a metastatic diagnosis, well, one of them. Every pain I feel throws me into a panic. I worry that the cancer is spreading further. So in a way, I was relieved there was clear cause for the pain.
On Thursday, I was due for my 2nd chemo and I was feeling much better but my blood work showed that I was extremely potassium deficient. It should have been a short session because I only received one of the 3 drugs they are giving me, the Abraxane, but then I had to stay for a 2 hour infusion of potassium. The potassium definitely helped. Since that treatment, I have only suffered from fatigue, some intermittent abdominal pain and a new normal of diarrhea but overall not too bad.
On Friday, Nathan had his 4th chemo session. He got the results of the EKG he had been wearing for 24 hours after his scare the week before and they looked normal. They performed another EKG just to be sure and again it was normal. Because he had experienced severe neuropathy from the last round, his doctor decided to reduce the amount of oxaliplatin he would receive and also give that infusion over a longer period of time. Unfortunately, only one of those things happened. He got the reduced amount but the infusion was still 2 hours instead of 4 hours long. A mistake was made. Overall, it was not a big deal but by the time he got home Friday evening the side effects had already started. To recap, the side effects he seems to suffer from the worst are: sensitivity to cold, any cold, which includes the air, tingling in his fingers, the sensation of his tongue being swollen and burnt, pain in his salivary glands when he begins eating anything, pain in his tear ducts when crying, fatigue, abdominal pain and constipation. It's also a pain the ass to have the take home infusion. Yes, it's definitely a medical advance to be able to provide the take home infusion because it works better that way - something to do with the half-life of the drug - but then you have to be super careful when holding your kid or hugging people, you have to sleep on your back and you can't take a shower. It's "convenience" seems to cause a whole lot of other inconveniences.
It's morning now and we both got a decent night sleep though I have been up since 4 am writing this post. I definitely need to eat some breakfast, though I'm not hungry. It's crazy. One side effect I forgot to mention that I am experiencing is a lack of appetite. I'm not talking about being nauseated and, therefore, not wanting to eat. That's a whole separate side effect. I'm talking about a real lack of appetite. I just don't get hungry anymore. But don't cry for me Argentina. Unlike Nathan, I have more than a few pounds to spare. In fact, if nothing else, I'm hoping I'll be in great shape for a bikini this summer. And I won't even have to figure out the new points system on Weight Watchers!
Nathan and I are deeply, deeply grateful for and in awe of the global outpouring of love, support and inspiration. I mean literally GLOBAL. Who could ever have seen this coming? I guess it's happened before. Wait, I know it has. Sometimes people receive a lot of attention for doing nothing other than finding themselves in a seriously shitty situation. The Chilean miners come to mind. It's just that you never imagine it's going to be you, or rather, we never imagined it would be us. None of it. We never imagined one of us having cancer. We never imagined both of us having cancer. We never imagined both of us having cancer at the same time. We never imagined our family and friends rallying to our side with one goal in mind, a happy ending. We never imagined that that goal would be shared with people all over the world. And we never imagined we would feel so blessed for all of it. That's the thing about shitty situations. They can give you more blessings than the burden itself. They can teach you more than you wanted to know. They can heal you beyond your pain.
Don't get me wrong. If I had the choice for Nathan and I NOT to have cancer, I would take it. In a heartbeat, I would take it for Sadie's sake, for our parents and for all those people who love us and worry about us. We didn't choose our diagnoses, but we do choose to be in a state of gratitude. There is too much love and healing coming our way not to feel blessed.
So I guess I would say that emotionally/spiritually we're in a really good place. As for our physical states of being, we're still looking for improvement. Warning: If you're squeamish, skip the rest of this post. My first week after treatment was truly awful. I was puking and had diarrhea for 6 days straight. I was afraid to be more than 2 feet from a bathroom at all times. In between trips to the bathroom, I made sleeping an Olympic sport. To add insult to injury, I got my period. Yes, my period. Even though I was two weeks late (no doubt due to a mild case of stress) and the fact that menstruation should cease during chemo, I got it 3 days after my treatment. I blame the super moon. I just wish I had know it was coming because I was experiencing extreme pain in my lower abdomen and lower back and the fear took over. I cried to Nathan, "It's spreading." That's the problem with a metastatic diagnosis, well, one of them. Every pain I feel throws me into a panic. I worry that the cancer is spreading further. So in a way, I was relieved there was clear cause for the pain.
On Thursday, I was due for my 2nd chemo and I was feeling much better but my blood work showed that I was extremely potassium deficient. It should have been a short session because I only received one of the 3 drugs they are giving me, the Abraxane, but then I had to stay for a 2 hour infusion of potassium. The potassium definitely helped. Since that treatment, I have only suffered from fatigue, some intermittent abdominal pain and a new normal of diarrhea but overall not too bad.
On Friday, Nathan had his 4th chemo session. He got the results of the EKG he had been wearing for 24 hours after his scare the week before and they looked normal. They performed another EKG just to be sure and again it was normal. Because he had experienced severe neuropathy from the last round, his doctor decided to reduce the amount of oxaliplatin he would receive and also give that infusion over a longer period of time. Unfortunately, only one of those things happened. He got the reduced amount but the infusion was still 2 hours instead of 4 hours long. A mistake was made. Overall, it was not a big deal but by the time he got home Friday evening the side effects had already started. To recap, the side effects he seems to suffer from the worst are: sensitivity to cold, any cold, which includes the air, tingling in his fingers, the sensation of his tongue being swollen and burnt, pain in his salivary glands when he begins eating anything, pain in his tear ducts when crying, fatigue, abdominal pain and constipation. It's also a pain the ass to have the take home infusion. Yes, it's definitely a medical advance to be able to provide the take home infusion because it works better that way - something to do with the half-life of the drug - but then you have to be super careful when holding your kid or hugging people, you have to sleep on your back and you can't take a shower. It's "convenience" seems to cause a whole lot of other inconveniences.
It's morning now and we both got a decent night sleep though I have been up since 4 am writing this post. I definitely need to eat some breakfast, though I'm not hungry. It's crazy. One side effect I forgot to mention that I am experiencing is a lack of appetite. I'm not talking about being nauseated and, therefore, not wanting to eat. That's a whole separate side effect. I'm talking about a real lack of appetite. I just don't get hungry anymore. But don't cry for me Argentina. Unlike Nathan, I have more than a few pounds to spare. In fact, if nothing else, I'm hoping I'll be in great shape for a bikini this summer. And I won't even have to figure out the new points system on Weight Watchers!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
A week in review
Encouraged by the former English teacher who said she would have given my last post an A (as well as all the other wonderfully kind comments I received), I am here writing another one. I can’t make any promises about the quality continuing, however. I still wish that it could be Elisa writing again, as I love reading her work. It never fails to put a smile on my face, a tear in my eye or a laugh in my belly. However, she has been having a very rough week since her first treatment and has been too sick to write. She is finally getting a little sleep next to me now.
First, I want to say how overwhelmed we both are by the amazing people that we know and many that we don’t know, who are reaching out to us with such wonderful messages of support. Those messages of inspiration and encouragement really mean a lot to us. Additionally, Elisa and I are just stunned by the fact that our friends and family have started a website to collect donations for a trust fund that has been set up to help offset some of the financial burdens that we are facing. Since neither of can work right now, this is a major stress relief for us. I cannot begin to express how grateful we are and how moved we are by the generosity and love that we are receiving. Thank you all. Thank you so, so much.
Next, let me bring you up to date since the last post. Friday morning didn’t start off well for me and I was a little concerned that I was going to have to head into the hospital on the first day of nice weather in weeks. I was having some rather intense intestinal pain. I was not so much surprised by having pain, since I have had that since early November; more it was the intensity of the pain that took me by surprise. It felt like a hot poker was being dragged around the inside of my gut. I don’t actually know what that feels like, but I am guessing it couldn’t hurt too much more. However, this is not why I knew I was going to have to go to the hospital… this is just why going to the hospital was going to be that much shittier. I was going to have to go to the hospital because I was having irregular heartbeats, or palpitations. Various heart conditions are one of the possible side effects of chemo, so the doctors always want to know if anything strange is going on with your ticker. I actually had first felt them on Wednesday, but there were just a couple, so I paid them no mind. However, Thursday night they were continuous for up to ten minutes and they kept happening all morning. So I called the doctor and was told I had to go directly to the urgent care center. Doctors are so predictable!
So began the day of tests. I was hooked up to an EKG to monitor my heart, which of course, had stage fright and preformed perfectly normally for the first half hour. Eventually they started seeing the spikes. They were not sure what was causing them; all the blood work came back “normal” (for a chemo patient, that is – they would keep you in the hospital if your blood count was as low as mine is for no reason). So I was off to get a CT of my chest to check for a blood clot in my lungs and they threw in an x-ray of my abdomen to see what was causing all of the pain down there.
Results: my chest was clear (sigh of relief) but I was full of shit. Literally. My whole intestinal tract was like the Holland Tunnel at 8:45am. So still not knowing what was causing the heart palpitations, I was sent home wearing an EKG recording device that would monitor my heart for 24 hours. There is still no word on what they have found from that information. They said that the beats themselves were not dangerous. My heart was firing a beat too early. "Could be stress related," they said. Not sure what could be causing that! So finally we were back home by 5pm. Elisa, my brother Joel and I were just exhausted from anther long day in a hospital.
That night Elisa suggested that we go stay at her good friend’s apartment, who had just gone out of town that morning; we wanted to be able to have a day of quiet and calm and at least be out of our apartment for a change. It is near Central Park, so we thought we might even go for a walk in the park. We planned to drop Sadie off at her mom’s around 9 AM. By 1PM we were out the door and heading to the city. Life never seems to go as planned. The afternoon started off ok, but Elisa started to feel the effects of her chemo from Thursday kick in. I am not sure why, but the worst days seem to start a full day after your treatment. She was feeling nauseous and was having a lot of muscle and intestinal pain plus a headache to top it off. We tried to get her to eat a little dinner and it seemed to help for a couple of minutes…before we discovered that we have only thrown another log on the fire. She got worse as it got later. Around 8pm we took her temperature. She had a low fever. When you are being treated with chemo, a fever of 100.4 means you go to the ER. So we kept a close watch, taking her temperature every ten minutes. Unfortunately it is rising fast and within a half hour we are up to 100.1. So I put a call into the doctor and wait for the call back. During this time I become convinced that my heart palpitations are stress related as they have kicked into full gear. We get the call back from the doctor and predictably we are told to go to the ER. We start to get or selves prepared to leave. Making some calls to see who might be able to come help out at the hospital as it would not be healthy for me to stay there all night with her. I really start hating my cancer at that moment. By the time we are dress, packed up and ready to walk out the door, Elisa says that she is not feeling quite as hot and maybe we should check her temp one more time before we go. That woman has great instincts! Her fever has dropped some. We decide to hold off leaving and take it again in ten minutes in the hopes that the fever is passing. Jackpot! It keeps dropping in about an hour it is back down to a mild fever. We make the call not to send anther night at the hospital and just keep a close watch on her temperature for the rest of the night.
We called our friends and cousins in the medical field to make sure that this is not foolish and we got the “ok”. If only all the other symptoms that Elisa was having would have passed, too. But they remained and we are now on day six of her feeling terrible. Nothing seems to help with the nausea. Some of the pain meds they prescribed help temporarily with the muscle pain. Sleep is fitful. Nothing seems to help. It makes you feel so powerless, so inept at not to being able to do anything. So I fetch water, help her back and forth from the bathroom, stroke her hair, and hold her when she cries. I am grateful that I am having some better days at the moment and can do all this. At the same time I, we, both know that this is probably not always going to be the case.
It is a little overwhelming to think about us both feeling sick like this at the same time for the next several months. We are so lucky that my brother has been staying with us for the past week and helping with everything. So lucky that Elisa’s mother is close by and able to come over whenever we need an extra hand. So blessed by everyone who has been making wonderful food. So blessed to have an amazing friend as a neighbor to handle the receiving of the food, holding on to it until she knows it is a good time to bring it over. We are lucky to have our friends and cousins who have been picking up and dropping off our darling Sadie on the days that she has day care. There are so many daily things that have become more difficult to carry out, and this love and support is so immensely helpful and appreciated.
Elisa has her second chemo treatment tomorrow and I have my fourth the following day. We are both a little nervous. This will be our first weekend together having both had chemo.
First, I want to say how overwhelmed we both are by the amazing people that we know and many that we don’t know, who are reaching out to us with such wonderful messages of support. Those messages of inspiration and encouragement really mean a lot to us. Additionally, Elisa and I are just stunned by the fact that our friends and family have started a website to collect donations for a trust fund that has been set up to help offset some of the financial burdens that we are facing. Since neither of can work right now, this is a major stress relief for us. I cannot begin to express how grateful we are and how moved we are by the generosity and love that we are receiving. Thank you all. Thank you so, so much.
Next, let me bring you up to date since the last post. Friday morning didn’t start off well for me and I was a little concerned that I was going to have to head into the hospital on the first day of nice weather in weeks. I was having some rather intense intestinal pain. I was not so much surprised by having pain, since I have had that since early November; more it was the intensity of the pain that took me by surprise. It felt like a hot poker was being dragged around the inside of my gut. I don’t actually know what that feels like, but I am guessing it couldn’t hurt too much more. However, this is not why I knew I was going to have to go to the hospital… this is just why going to the hospital was going to be that much shittier. I was going to have to go to the hospital because I was having irregular heartbeats, or palpitations. Various heart conditions are one of the possible side effects of chemo, so the doctors always want to know if anything strange is going on with your ticker. I actually had first felt them on Wednesday, but there were just a couple, so I paid them no mind. However, Thursday night they were continuous for up to ten minutes and they kept happening all morning. So I called the doctor and was told I had to go directly to the urgent care center. Doctors are so predictable!
So began the day of tests. I was hooked up to an EKG to monitor my heart, which of course, had stage fright and preformed perfectly normally for the first half hour. Eventually they started seeing the spikes. They were not sure what was causing them; all the blood work came back “normal” (for a chemo patient, that is – they would keep you in the hospital if your blood count was as low as mine is for no reason). So I was off to get a CT of my chest to check for a blood clot in my lungs and they threw in an x-ray of my abdomen to see what was causing all of the pain down there.
Results: my chest was clear (sigh of relief) but I was full of shit. Literally. My whole intestinal tract was like the Holland Tunnel at 8:45am. So still not knowing what was causing the heart palpitations, I was sent home wearing an EKG recording device that would monitor my heart for 24 hours. There is still no word on what they have found from that information. They said that the beats themselves were not dangerous. My heart was firing a beat too early. "Could be stress related," they said. Not sure what could be causing that! So finally we were back home by 5pm. Elisa, my brother Joel and I were just exhausted from anther long day in a hospital.
That night Elisa suggested that we go stay at her good friend’s apartment, who had just gone out of town that morning; we wanted to be able to have a day of quiet and calm and at least be out of our apartment for a change. It is near Central Park, so we thought we might even go for a walk in the park. We planned to drop Sadie off at her mom’s around 9 AM. By 1PM we were out the door and heading to the city. Life never seems to go as planned. The afternoon started off ok, but Elisa started to feel the effects of her chemo from Thursday kick in. I am not sure why, but the worst days seem to start a full day after your treatment. She was feeling nauseous and was having a lot of muscle and intestinal pain plus a headache to top it off. We tried to get her to eat a little dinner and it seemed to help for a couple of minutes…before we discovered that we have only thrown another log on the fire. She got worse as it got later. Around 8pm we took her temperature. She had a low fever. When you are being treated with chemo, a fever of 100.4 means you go to the ER. So we kept a close watch, taking her temperature every ten minutes. Unfortunately it is rising fast and within a half hour we are up to 100.1. So I put a call into the doctor and wait for the call back. During this time I become convinced that my heart palpitations are stress related as they have kicked into full gear. We get the call back from the doctor and predictably we are told to go to the ER. We start to get or selves prepared to leave. Making some calls to see who might be able to come help out at the hospital as it would not be healthy for me to stay there all night with her. I really start hating my cancer at that moment. By the time we are dress, packed up and ready to walk out the door, Elisa says that she is not feeling quite as hot and maybe we should check her temp one more time before we go. That woman has great instincts! Her fever has dropped some. We decide to hold off leaving and take it again in ten minutes in the hopes that the fever is passing. Jackpot! It keeps dropping in about an hour it is back down to a mild fever. We make the call not to send anther night at the hospital and just keep a close watch on her temperature for the rest of the night.
We called our friends and cousins in the medical field to make sure that this is not foolish and we got the “ok”. If only all the other symptoms that Elisa was having would have passed, too. But they remained and we are now on day six of her feeling terrible. Nothing seems to help with the nausea. Some of the pain meds they prescribed help temporarily with the muscle pain. Sleep is fitful. Nothing seems to help. It makes you feel so powerless, so inept at not to being able to do anything. So I fetch water, help her back and forth from the bathroom, stroke her hair, and hold her when she cries. I am grateful that I am having some better days at the moment and can do all this. At the same time I, we, both know that this is probably not always going to be the case.
It is a little overwhelming to think about us both feeling sick like this at the same time for the next several months. We are so lucky that my brother has been staying with us for the past week and helping with everything. So lucky that Elisa’s mother is close by and able to come over whenever we need an extra hand. So blessed by everyone who has been making wonderful food. So blessed to have an amazing friend as a neighbor to handle the receiving of the food, holding on to it until she knows it is a good time to bring it over. We are lucky to have our friends and cousins who have been picking up and dropping off our darling Sadie on the days that she has day care. There are so many daily things that have become more difficult to carry out, and this love and support is so immensely helpful and appreciated.
Elisa has her second chemo treatment tomorrow and I have my fourth the following day. We are both a little nervous. This will be our first weekend together having both had chemo.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Port O' Princess
There are some things that you can expect to be a little different about this posting as compared to the past posts: a lack of brilliant wit and creative writing, poor grammar, poor sentence structure, over use of comma's, the possible misuse of verb tense, and if I forget to press spell check, a rash of misspelling. Why this sudden digression? Because it was written by me, Nathan, Elisa's husband. One of the many ways in which Elisa is my better half is her wonderful talent with the written word. So my apologizes in advance. Elisa had been asking me for a while to contribute to the blog, which I emphatically declined. I told her that would be like asking me to go run next to Carl Lewis. However I felt that I should pick up some of the load on this one, as it was a day about Elisa. Yesterday was a very big day. A very long, physically and mentally exhausting day. Elisa had her medi-port ( Elisa does a beautiful job of describing what this is in an earlier post ) placed in her chest and received her first chemotherapy treatment. Up until today ( and here i can only speak for myself ) Elisa's cancer had a ghost like quality to it. It was all words and reports and slides. There was no pain. No symptoms. There was no way, other than the lump in her breast, that her body was telling her that she was very sick. Not anymore. Yesterday a physical aspect of it was added. Everything became much, much more real. She will now have a physical reminder, 24/7, stitched into her chest. And it is not going away anytime soon. This was difficult for me to see. It was difficult for her mother and father to see. It was even more difficult for Elisa to have done to her. (I really hate that one of the side effects of my chemo is that it hurts to cry. )
So bear with me as I take you through the day.
We were at NYU from 7:20 am until 7:30 pm.
Yesterdays entourage consisted if Elisa, her mother Eileen, her father Al and myself. After checking in we all headed to the radiology waiting area. Around 8 we were taken in to the patient prep room where a nurse went over the procedure that was about to happen and what to expect. The actual procedure for inserting the port is very quick, you are back out to recovery within the hour. So after changing Elisa was led to the OR and the rest of us were relegated to the waiting area. Just about an hour later she was out and in the recovery area where we had to wait until 11 for or scheduled transport ambulette to take us from the NYU hospital to the NYU cancer center where she will be getting all her chemo treatments. During the wait, Elisa was finally allowed to eat a little food. Unfortunately her body was not so keen on that and she became very nauseous. Never fun, but even worse when you are exhausted, just had a foreign object stuck in you and are hooked up to monitors and an I.V. They were able to give her some meds to help with the nausea and soon she was feeling back to good ol' exhausted and achy.
The transport arrived about 45 min late and we headed over to the next stop.
I would like to take a minute to say how amazingly kind and courteous our ambulette driver was. His good nature cheered us up and we felt a little better by the time we drove the five blocks the the cancer center. Thank you Harold.
First stop was blood work. Then upstairs to have a consult with Elisa's oncologist. We had a ton of new questions that we wanted to ask based on some of our research and Al had a whole list of his own to ask. Dr. Volm took the time to answer everyone with the gentle and clear manner that made us a big fans of his from our first meeting with him. (I am going to try to speed this up, if anybody is even still reading at this point).
Next stop was chemotherapy. We all scarfed down a sandwich while we waited to be called in (thank you again Eileen for going out to get those!). Once we were taken back and given the quick tour of the facilities (very nice if you were wondering) we were led to the room that Elisa was to receive her chemo. Luckily she got one right next to a big window and sun was pouring in. Elisa was soon napping like a cat in a sunbeam. 10 minutes later they came to start the first of the set of three drugs - Herceptin. Like most drugs, there are usually a long list of side effects that one can have, but most people don't get. Herceptin is no different. Only it is very uncommon to have a reaction. But as you all know by now, my wife is special. So about 2 minutes into the infusion her body start to tremble - a sign of a reaction. Of course nausea comes with it too. Oh, and did I mention that now the local anesthesia from her port placement has worn off? Needless to say this makes for a pretty shitty combination. So Elisa is feeling horrible. I feel horrible watching this. This is really starting to suck. They give her Benadryl for the reaction and Atavin medication. Both make you drowsy. They give her only Tylenol for the pain (let me tell you, having just had one put in a couple of weeks ago, these people are out of their minds when they say that it won't hurt that bad).
But the combination of the three drugs have a great effect and Elisa falls into a deep sleep for the next four hours. Dr. Volm comes up to check on her when he is told about the reaction she has had. The good news is that this could mean that the drug is working right away. The bad news is that there is a slight chance she may have the same reaction during her next treatment as well ( you know how we love our slight chances). Fortunately after the next treatment (which will be next Thursday) there will be no more reactions to the Herceptin.
The next several hours pass by without event thankfully. Elisa even sleeps through all the medicine changes, a nutritionist consult, several nurse visits, port care instructions, and discharge instructions. She wakes up for the last hour and we are finally free to go. Al drives home in an hour and she eats a little and crawls into bed.
So there it is, Elisa has started her chemotherapy treatment. I was about to say that she has started fighting her cancer, but she started doing that from the second that she was told her diagnoses. She has been fighting it with her amazing positive outlook, her courageous sharing of her feelings on this blog, her gracefully acceptance of the weight that has been placed on her shoulders and her wonderful and abundant humor. And there are so many others who have been fighting it with her. With your thoughtful e-mails and letters. Your prayers and the positive energy you send us. The food you make for us. The rides to and from treatment. The time you spend with us in your hearts and minds and in our home. I am grateful to you all beyond words. I am grateful and proud of my wife beyond measure. We will keep fighting this. Together. This cancer will not beat my wife. Will not beat my family. Will not beat this city of people that has risen up and surrounded us with it's love.
So bear with me as I take you through the day.
We were at NYU from 7:20 am until 7:30 pm.
Yesterdays entourage consisted if Elisa, her mother Eileen, her father Al and myself. After checking in we all headed to the radiology waiting area. Around 8 we were taken in to the patient prep room where a nurse went over the procedure that was about to happen and what to expect. The actual procedure for inserting the port is very quick, you are back out to recovery within the hour. So after changing Elisa was led to the OR and the rest of us were relegated to the waiting area. Just about an hour later she was out and in the recovery area where we had to wait until 11 for or scheduled transport ambulette to take us from the NYU hospital to the NYU cancer center where she will be getting all her chemo treatments. During the wait, Elisa was finally allowed to eat a little food. Unfortunately her body was not so keen on that and she became very nauseous. Never fun, but even worse when you are exhausted, just had a foreign object stuck in you and are hooked up to monitors and an I.V. They were able to give her some meds to help with the nausea and soon she was feeling back to good ol' exhausted and achy.
The transport arrived about 45 min late and we headed over to the next stop.
I would like to take a minute to say how amazingly kind and courteous our ambulette driver was. His good nature cheered us up and we felt a little better by the time we drove the five blocks the the cancer center. Thank you Harold.
First stop was blood work. Then upstairs to have a consult with Elisa's oncologist. We had a ton of new questions that we wanted to ask based on some of our research and Al had a whole list of his own to ask. Dr. Volm took the time to answer everyone with the gentle and clear manner that made us a big fans of his from our first meeting with him. (I am going to try to speed this up, if anybody is even still reading at this point).
Next stop was chemotherapy. We all scarfed down a sandwich while we waited to be called in (thank you again Eileen for going out to get those!). Once we were taken back and given the quick tour of the facilities (very nice if you were wondering) we were led to the room that Elisa was to receive her chemo. Luckily she got one right next to a big window and sun was pouring in. Elisa was soon napping like a cat in a sunbeam. 10 minutes later they came to start the first of the set of three drugs - Herceptin. Like most drugs, there are usually a long list of side effects that one can have, but most people don't get. Herceptin is no different. Only it is very uncommon to have a reaction. But as you all know by now, my wife is special. So about 2 minutes into the infusion her body start to tremble - a sign of a reaction. Of course nausea comes with it too. Oh, and did I mention that now the local anesthesia from her port placement has worn off? Needless to say this makes for a pretty shitty combination. So Elisa is feeling horrible. I feel horrible watching this. This is really starting to suck. They give her Benadryl for the reaction and Atavin medication. Both make you drowsy. They give her only Tylenol for the pain (let me tell you, having just had one put in a couple of weeks ago, these people are out of their minds when they say that it won't hurt that bad).
But the combination of the three drugs have a great effect and Elisa falls into a deep sleep for the next four hours. Dr. Volm comes up to check on her when he is told about the reaction she has had. The good news is that this could mean that the drug is working right away. The bad news is that there is a slight chance she may have the same reaction during her next treatment as well ( you know how we love our slight chances). Fortunately after the next treatment (which will be next Thursday) there will be no more reactions to the Herceptin.
The next several hours pass by without event thankfully. Elisa even sleeps through all the medicine changes, a nutritionist consult, several nurse visits, port care instructions, and discharge instructions. She wakes up for the last hour and we are finally free to go. Al drives home in an hour and she eats a little and crawls into bed.
So there it is, Elisa has started her chemotherapy treatment. I was about to say that she has started fighting her cancer, but she started doing that from the second that she was told her diagnoses. She has been fighting it with her amazing positive outlook, her courageous sharing of her feelings on this blog, her gracefully acceptance of the weight that has been placed on her shoulders and her wonderful and abundant humor. And there are so many others who have been fighting it with her. With your thoughtful e-mails and letters. Your prayers and the positive energy you send us. The food you make for us. The rides to and from treatment. The time you spend with us in your hearts and minds and in our home. I am grateful to you all beyond words. I am grateful and proud of my wife beyond measure. We will keep fighting this. Together. This cancer will not beat my wife. Will not beat my family. Will not beat this city of people that has risen up and surrounded us with it's love.
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