The fork in the road

Last Friday, Steve's port was removed. His little buddy who has been with him since this journey began was unceremoniously pulled from his chest. If you go online and google "power port", you'll find a lot of info about these things. Add "removal" to it and you'll find some surgeons who have blogged about the importance to the patient of having the port removed. 

It's a real tangible sign that the worst is over. And it should be a high point. 

But since that day, while he's doing well physically,  he's going through a tough time emotionally. I admit that I am unsure of how to handle the situation right now. I respect the way he feels: the colostomy has changed the way he thinks of himself and he feels that has substantively changed our relationship as well. I thought he would be elated to be cancer free and with the odds in his favor (70-30) that he can stay that way. But instead, i think he's dealing with some kind of survivor's guilt. And he's let this build up over the past couple of weeks until last night we just had a giant meltdown. And although I respect how he feels, I don't know what to say when I really want to say: Look how lucky you are! Enjoy what you've got and what we have rather than torturing yourself over the things you can't change. And yet, I know that even though I have walked this road side by side with him for the past year, I can't know how he really FEELS. It didn't happen to me. Just as - i guess - he can't know how I feel.

The bottom line is: I want to be supportive and help him over this hump. I just don't know how to do it. I didn't think there would be a hump here. If you know what I mean....

Why is this man smiling?

Because we just got great news from the doctor! The results of Steve's PET scan are clear so he's cancer free and we hope he'll stay that way. He'll get the port removed from his chest next week. That's always been sort of the big sign for us that this ordeal may really be behind us.

He had the PET scan about a week ago and, although neither of us was willing to admit it, we were both scared about the results... waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn't want Steve to know I was worried about it because he didn't seem worried and I didn't want to start him on that path. And he felt the same way. But when Dr. Stephenson walked into the exam room yesterday and pronounced Steve clear of cancer, we both let out an audible sign of relief.



We had a glass of champagne to celebrate - a big deal since we really don't drink anymore and I finally removed the LIVESTRONG support bracelet I have worn for just about a year. I always said I would wear it until this was behind us and last night, i finally felt it really was.

I don't want to throw this away; I would rather give it to someone else who can benefit from the strength of the message.


We walked out of the cancer center yesterday and Steve rang the bell (again!). He got resounding applause from the patients and caregivers. One of the nurses told us they had 90 people doing Chemo on monday. More than 400 people in a week.

Each and every one exhibits heroism. Few people I have met on this journey are grumpy or whiney or pitying. Most are upbeat and encouraging, many have faith to sustain them, nearly all have a loved one at their side. But each and every one gets up each day and says "No matter how crappy I feel, or how sick it makes me, I am not letting this disease get me." And they fight it with faith, with love, with good humor and above all, with hope.


They applaud when you ring the bell because you are an embodiment of that hope - another one who made it out alive. As we walked out, I couldn't help but think we should turn around and applaud them! Those who wait with just a hope to keep them getting up each morning.


I am not a relgious person, but God bless them. Every one.

Getting back to normal

I see it's been a month since I posted, and I apologize for not being more communicative. But you know what they say: no news is good news.

Steve is doing GREAT. He's been exercising and building up muscle (looks great!). That's helped him add weight and he's probably put on about 20 pounds. He's around 144-145 right now. If he can get up to 150, that would be great. His eating again and he has energy and a much improved attitude.

Life is returning to normal and cancer is less a part of our everyday existence. A sign of that occurred this week when we both FORGOT that he had an appointment for a blood test and port maintenance at the Cancer Center. We had dinner a couple of weeks ago with our friends Nancy and Chuck. Chuck had bladder cancer surgery just about two weeks before steve's surgery. We had an enjoyable evening with a lot of great conversation and NOT ONCE did we talk about cancer.

Those are good signs.

Last night we went to the symphony (Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue and American in Paris). Steve got all duded up (as you can see) and was clearly the best looking dude in the place. The week before we saw Smokey Robinson. An eclectic mix of entertainment lately. But I think I'm succeeding in expanding steve's horizons to include classical music.

So all is well. PET scan at the end of april will hopefully tell us there's no cancer anywhere else and then they will remove his port. I think for Steve that will be the sign that this is behind him.

For all of our friends, thank you for the support, caring, concern and help over the past year. I hope we will find a way to honor that and give it back to someone else who needs it - hopefully none of you guys!

Attaching a short video of Mr. Smooth putting his dancing moves on in the kitchen last night. As terri hovey will tell you, he LOVES singing and dancing in the kitchen!

Back on the Fairway

In more ways than one...

Again, I see that it's been some time since I updated ya'll on Steve's progress. I think that's generally a good sign. There seems a lot less to say when he's getting healthy than when he was so sick. His last chemo was just a month ago today.

It seemed a lot slower this time for him to recover than the first round. Probably only in about the past 10 days or so has he really started to feel significantly better and more like himself.
He'd gotten back down to about 125 pounds but as his appetite has recovered - including an unexpected passion for potato chips (in fact, i hear a bag rustling in the kitchen right now) - he's started to put on some weight. He was up to 138 this past Friday.

A lot of that also has to do with the fact that he's started to work out. He's lifting some weights - perhaps more than he should - and walking on the treadmill every day. For Steve, who has a metabolism like a hummingbird, it's the muscle mass that is the only way he can really put on weight. Now, I, on the other hand, was born without a metabolism. It's a rare and often misunderstood condition :).

Along with the workouts comes more energy. And it's all a nice little circle that comes down to him getting better and better every day.

Today we played golf. It's one of the things we love about living down here - you are just as likely to get a day like this - 65 degrees on February 3 - as you are to get freezing. Considering how little we've played since Steve's diagnosis back in April, we played pretty well. I shot a 90 (courtesy of four pars on the back nine) and Steve shot a 98. Not bad for the early stages of the year.

After golf, we went to Rafferty's - our usual Sunday-after-golf stop for some lunch and then home to crash with the dogs.

Tomorrow, we see the oncologist for a checkup and a blood test. But everything seems to be heading in the right direction and as soon as all the members of our family - Sable and Bogey - are recovered from their surgeries, we're looking to plan a nice vacation -- somewhere we can take the dogs, play golf, relax in the sun and have no worries.

Things seem to be looking up for others in our extended family as well: We were thrilled to get the email the other day about Marilyn taking some steps with a cane. Considering where she was just a year ago, that is a miracle. And one step closer to walking on the beach. Our friend Chuck has recovered pretty well from his cancer surgery and I hope we'll have some enjoyable evenings with him and Nancy now that we are all doing better.

I am hoping for a happy and healthy year for everyone and I think we're getting started on the right foot.

A Winter (?) Wonderland

Snow in SC? In nearly five years here, it's the first time I've seen it. The last time it snowed (about 3 years ago in our area) we were in Cancun! It's pretty though - and it melted fast!

Steve is starting to feel better. Even without chemo, for the past couple of weeks he's still been feeling pretty crappy, lethargic and not eating. The metal taste in his both has been the big problem in terms of getting some eating going on. But over the past few days, he's started to have a little bit of a taste for food and he's definitely developing an appetite.

He needs to get some food in his system so he can get some energy and start exercising and getting himself strong again. He's lost a lot of muscle tone and it's hard for him to get motivated - especially when he's here on his own all day. I'm hoping he'll start working out soon - that will both build his muscles and give him some positive energy.

I haven't updated much lately because things have been pretty normal. Just trying to get better and get on with it.

Ring that bell!

Today was Steve's last chemo treatment. As is traditional - at least at the Cancer Centers of the Carolinas - when a patient leaves after their final treatment they ring the bell and walk out to the applause and good wishes of fellow patients and center staff. Steve got a big hug (me too) from Marianne - the nurse who takes care of him each week. I had to take the photo with my cell phone because I brought our good camera BUT without the media card in it (!!).

There were some bittersweet moments today as I talked with some of the other patients who we see weekly and have struck up a relationship of sorts with. You are walking out - and you hope never to return - but you don't know what fate has in store for all the others you see each week.

The last treatment seemed to take forever. We were there for almost five hours today. But it was worth it to walk out with that bell ringing in our ears. We see Trocha (the surgeon) and Stephenson (the oncologist) next Friday for a checkup and go back in a month for blood tests and an office visit. But hopefully that's all on the downside of the mountain and this is behind us. We are ready to get on with enjoying life in 2008!

Welcome 2008!

It was a quiet New Year's Eve for us. But still we felt great anticipation to put 2007 behind us.

Steve is not feeling great right now: the metal mouth, crushing fatigue and nausea are back although still not as bad as round one. The result is he's not doing too much and not eating much.

But Thursday will be the last chemo treatment, after which he'll ring the bell and we'll walk out with this experience hopefully behind us forever. (There's a big cow bell in the chemo suite and when a patient completes their last treatment they ring it on their way out to the cheers of patients and staff.)

What made 2007 even more difficult for us was the challenges that our friends faced as well. And yet we should celebrate 2007 because it was a year that we learned we were tougher than we thought. A year we all - steve, marilyn, our friends nancy and chuck who battled cancer surgery about the same time as steve - learned how much fight we had in us. And certainly a year in which we learned to really appreciate the simple pleasures in life - friendship, generosity of spirit - that are so often taken for granted.

In 2008, the only resolution I can think to make is to give back some of what was given to us.

Play the short video clip below for a very Happy Doggy New Year wish from Sable, Bogey and their person - Steve!

Merry Christmas to all

Seems like a couple of weeks since I posted. And that's very good news because essentially it means there is nothing new to say. In the world of cancer, that's a good thing. Steve has been feeling fairly good with this round. Although just in the past few days some of the nausea has creeped back.

But nothing like what it was in round 1. We have only two more treatments to get through and hopefully we'll be able to put this whole cancer thing behind us and get back to LIFE!

This holiday season has a lot more meaning for us because of this experience. We are more appreciative of what we have and less fixated on the things we don't, more aware of the importance of our friends and family and the depth of those relationships.

We hope you all had a great Christmas and join us in looking forward to a healthy and happy 2008!

A good day

One of the reasons to love living down here is that you never know when you might get a beautiful summer-type day in the middle of winter. This week has been like that. It's been 72+ degrees since Saturday.

So today, I took off, and Steve and I went and played golf. The golf was so-so, but the day was wonderful. Steve's still feeling good. Really very little side effects at all so far, which is quite a change from the first round when he started feeling lousy pretty much right after his second treatment.

We played with Gerry Riley, who has been such a good friend during all of this. None of us will be applying for a tour card, but we had a great time.

Tomorrow is treatment #3 of 6,, so we'll be halfway through. Keep your fingers crossed!

Santa Steve

I guess Steve was feeling pretty good this week as he hauled out all the outside Christmas stuff and started decorating. Of course, it's a little hard to get in the Christmas spirit when it's 72 degrees outside - as it is today. Tomorrow is supposed to be the same and we are scheduled to play golf with Gerry Riley. I may let Steve go on his own: as much as I would love to play (haven't picked up a club since August!), I am a little concerned about leaving Sable alone for 5-6 hours.

Today, Steve's feeling, what he describes as, "a little funky" - some queasiness after he ate breakfast and he seems tired. He took a nausea pill (even though it wasn't bad, taking meds before it actually GETS bad is a good idea). I always ask him to evaluate how he feels on a scale of 1 to 10 (something I picked up from the nurses in the hospital). I'm sure he's sick of hearing it, but it helps me know how he's doing. This morning, he said 6.

Hopefully, this is just a little of the bumps you expect with chemo and won't escalate. After the last round, I am concerned when he has any side-effects.

Today we'll get the outside lights up and then probably next weekend we'll get the tree up.

Chemo day update

Hi, ya'all.

I am writing this update from the chemo suite (a high-falootin' name). Today is week 2 of 6 in the second and last (woo hoo!) round. After his first treatment, Steve felt fine all week. He really wasn't even tired and - thank goodness - kept his appetite up.

So we are hoping things will stay this way - at least for the bulk of the time.

Steve's had a few new side effects: his hands and feet are very dry and the skin is cracking; and some funky discoloration (i hope that's all it is) of his gums. But the NP says that's all normal. She gave us some samples of something called Udder Cream. Lousy name, but supposed to be very very good.

Nice woman sitting next to us today. This is her last day of chemo. So when she walks out today, she'll get to ring the bell and everyone will applaud. I can't wait until we can do that!

Dog Days of November

What a 10-days it's been! First Bogey ate a rock and had to have emergency intenstinal surgery to remove it from his intestine (see third pix - if your stomach's up to it). Then came Thanksgiving (which was great, see previous post) and Steve's birthday.

And finally, my birthday. Which went like this: Get up at 6:30 a.m. to have Sable to the veterinary surgeon by 7:30 for her TPLO. Drop her off, pay 1/2 of the $2500 charge (!) and head for the cancer center for Steve's new round of chemo.

The oncologist said they were going to keep the dosage at the same levels. We had thought they were going to dial it back some based on his reactions to round 1. But because Steve had three involved lymph nodes, he wanted to make sure they were as agressive as possible. He thinks that Steve is stronger now (I agree) in starting this round than he was starting Round 1, which was only a month or so after surgery. They also seem to think that we waited too long through the bad stuff before calling and getting fluids and better medications. This time we'll know better and if the diarrhea and everything start up, we'll act more quickly.

The first round of chemo was uneventful and Steve feels fine. Yesterday, he felt so good, he did a lot of yardwork - raked and bagged leaves, cut back bushes, etc. In the process, however, he lost his wedding ring! He only discovered that about 7 p.m. and we started retracing his steps - the stores he had been in, what he had done, when was the last time he was absolutely certain he had it on.

We went to bed pretty bummed and worried and planned to retrace his steps today. So after we got Sable home from the vet and settled in (a very EARLY saturday morning, especially for me!), we went outside and started opening up the bags of leaves and dumping them on the driveway. We sifted through one bag and were halfway through the second when we found it. Amazing. I was 90 percent certain (and 100 percent hoping!) that he lost it in the leaves, but nonetheless i was pretty amazed that he found it. We were just lucky yesterday wasn't garbage day!

Our rings have a storied history and they have more stories than most. So sable goes to the vet next friday to get her staples out and then were on a four-month track to recovery. I've set up a page on my website to track her recovery. If you're into it, check it out at http://www.lauraharrigan.com/pages/sablesurgery.htm.

More to come on everyone's health and recovery next week!

One foot in front of the other

The holiday is over. Kristin has gone back to Canada. Steve and I are spending today just crashed out - in jammies and slippers!

Steve's doing really well: He's gained more than 14 pounds since stopping chemo and feels great. He really enjoyed the visit with Kristin - we saw "My Fair Lady" at the Peace Center, shopped, explored downtown Greenville and just generally spent time together. I was so glad that he was up to really enjoying this time with her.

Round 2 of chemo starts on Thursday. The oncologist said they would make some adjustments to this round, so hopefully he will not have as serious side effects as he did before. But at least he knows there's a light at the end of this tunnel and he'll be able to be back to his normal self (permanently) once we get through the next six weeks.

I'll update after Thursday, but we are both keeping a real positive attitude about this last leg of the journey! We couldn't have made it without you all.

A Happy Thanks-birthday

A double good day today.

It was both Thanksgiving and Steve's birthday. His daughter Kristin is here for the week and Kyle came for dinner. So he had two of his three kids with him and, most importantly, he was feeling great.

We had quite the traditional Thanksgiving meal, which Kristin helped me put together and then did the majority of the dish washing.

Thanksgiving is the least demanding holiday we have. You don't have to give gifts, dress up, decorate your home. All that is expected is to share a meal and take a moment to reflect. This year may be the first year I really gave some thought to giving thanks. With so much bad that happened this year, it seemed at first like there wasn't much to be thankful for. But I guess it's all too true that sometimes you have to go through some bad times to really appreciate what you have got.

I am thankful ...

• For every day Steve and I have together.


• For caring and skilled surgeons, oncologists and nurses who have combined their skills to save his life.


• For Blue Cross Blue Shield.


• For close friends and family who have been there for support, chicken soup, lawn mowing and hand holding.


• That Marilyn is home and working hard to be able to walk on the beach again.


• That my mother is out of the hospital, home again and going strong at 79!


• For a comfortable home surrounding us with memories of good times and good friends.


• For the warmth of being sandwiched between two big dogs curled up around me in the morning.


• That we have the means to pay for emergency surgery for a dog who eats rocks and orthopedic surgery for dog whose love of the game of b-a-l-l has resulted in a second major injury.
  


• That I know Steve and I never walk alone through the tough times and have a chorus of friends who sing and dance in the kitchen with us.

I am still going to be happy to see 2007 in my rear view mirror. So much pain and suffering for people I love. But it was a year of getting in touch with what is truly important and that has changed me - I hope for the better. And for that, I am thankful.

Steak and pancakes!

Finally the storm is passing.

For about the past week, Steve has been feeling a bit better. The diarrhea is slowing up and, as of today, may be (cross your fingers) finished, the vomiting and upset stomach stopped and he's been getting his appetite back. In fact, in some ways since Monday, he's been ravenous. He called me at work and asked me to bring home a steak for dinner! This morning, before I got up he had some fruit and then wanted pancakes, which he ate with some slices of ham on the side! It is terrific to see him not only have an appetite but enjoy what he's eating. Apparently the "metal mouth" is also dissipating.

Now with the intestinal distress slowing up, perhaps some of what he's taking in will actually have a shot at getting absorbed into his system.

At chemo on Thursday, Steve was still having some diarrhea still and the doctor decided that we would stop round one after the four weeks we've completed. We'll start round 2 - with a slightly different mix - on Nov. 29. That means he'll have had four weeks without chemo which is already helping him regain strength, appetite and the resolve to keep going.

You can see why they give you a break between chemo sessions: first, your body needs some recovery from the assault chemo makes on it. But, I think more important, is your mind needs to reboot as well. Steve has asked me several times whether or not he would ever enjoy food again, or ever feel like himself again. This break is letting him see that the real Steve -- a healthy, strong, energetic guy - is still in there and will be back!

Steve's daughter Kristin is coming from Canada for Thanksgiving (which also happens to be Steve's 62nd birthday). It's great that he's going to be feeling so much better while she's here!

But all is not well with our four-legged family members

Both dogs have medical issues now too.

Sable's torn the cruciate ligament in her right leg. She had the same injury to her left leg five years ago and had a procedure called a TPLO (Tibial Plateau Leveling Ostotomy). This is a relatively new procedure that essentially changes the weight bearing structure of the dog's leg so the torn cruciate is no longer a factor. Her left knee is held in place with a steel plate and six screws. Now she'll have to have the same procedure on her right leg. As a little extra for me, I'll be taking her for her surgery on my birthday (Nov. 29)!

The recovery period is lengthy - about 4 months - and involves keeping her contained and quiet with no walking at all (except to go out to do her business) for the first MONTH!

Just as we were wrapping our minds around having to do that, Bogey managed to eat a rock out in the backyard. He was vomiting the other night - about 8 or 9 times - and I was worried he might have the bloat (this condition where the dog's stomach actually turns upside down and may twist like a disrag is the second largest killer of dogs behind cancer)! So we rushed him to the emergency vet clinic Thursday night around 11 p.m. After examination and xrays, they said, good news, NOT the bloat. Bad news, seems to have eaten a rock that was lodged in his large intestine. So at 1:30 they started emergency surgery to remove it. That was successful, thank God. And Bogey's home now -- in the x-pen I had pulled out for Sable's upcoming recovery.

Big ticket items ($$) - both of them. But at least Bogey's OK and I hope Sable's surgery will go well.

Now pretty much everyone's got something going on!

Potholes in the road

Well, we knew it wasn't going to be a breeze. We hadn't quite counted on a n'oreaster.

The last week has been about the worst we've had. Steve's had everything: nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and stomach cramping. None of the medications are doing much for any of this, so i called the oncologist for an appointment earlier this week. They did blood tests and pronounced everything to be in expected ranges. But gave him a drip of IV fluids with some atavan and other meds in it and sent him home with an appointment to come back the next day (wednesday) if he didn't feel better. By Tuesday night he was feeling significantly better and was even able to eat a bit -- a tiny can of pears and a small bowl of oatmeal was about it.

So on Wednesday, he thought he'd be OK and did not go for more fluids. But by the evening, he was feeling crappy again. Thursday is chemo day and I encouraged him to eat something before we went. One bite and he was tearing ass for the bathroom.

When we got to the cancer center, he was feeling as bad as ever -- not well enough to even have the treatment. They gave him fluids, prescribed something stronger for diarrhea and sent him to the hospital for some abdominal xrays to see if he may have something else going on like a blockage. We didn't get those results today.

Since we got home, Steve's been sleeping. When he's not even up for watching ESPN, i know that he feels bad.

He's back to the cancer center tomorrow for more fluids and to see the doc about the results of his xray. Along with all this, he's lost more weight and is down to 128 pounds (and that's fully dressed with shoes on!). Doesn't look like his body will be able to handle any chemo until we get past this and he regains some strength.

Will post tomorrow when I know something more.

Week 4 and the going gets tougher

From the start, we knew the effects of chemo are cumulative. It's not so bad at the beginning but as the drugs build up in your body, the side effects become more severe. Unfortunately, that's certainly been the case.

This week is probably the worst he's had. He felt lousy on Thursday, worse on Friday and had everything from cramping to nausea to the d-word (you know what I mean) on Saturday. It's sunday morning and after getting up about every two hours to do bag maintenance, he had vomiting this morning as well.

Tough time and there is so little I can do to help him. There's an anti-nausea pill, a blue pill for cramping, lots of Tylenol for headaches and Aleve for the muscle aches -- this for a guy who wouldn't take a pill to save his life before! All those meds are taking the edge off each issue, but they're not knocking it out.

Probably by Tuesday or Wednesday, he'll be feeling better -- just in time to start the cycle all over again. I was talking to a friend the other day, who is going through cancer with his sister (ovarian) and she described getting up on chemo day and going for the treatments as a "force of will". I can really see that. When you finally start to feel better after days of pain and sickness, how do you make yourself get up and start that cycle of pain again?

I guess it is because of the incredible strength cancer survivors must have. No matter how old or how infirm they appear, each one faces the unmanageable, the fear, the sickness every day, stands up to it and says "You are not going to beat me!". For those of us cowed by a tough day at work, that's showing an immeasurable strength. I don't suppose they know they have it until they heard the diagnosis, nodded ascent to the treatment plan and stepped one foot in front of the other into the battle.

But isn't that the definition of a true hero?

Not one who fights without fear, but one who fights despite the fear.

But there are things to look forward to as well. Steve's birthday is Nov. 22 -- Thanksgiving Day. His daughter, Kristin, who lives in Canada and he sees very little, will be here visiting. I know that will be a huge boost to him. And, he'll be off chemo that week - an extra bonus.

Steve's not much of an internet/computer person, so those who have posted encouragement, support and caring comments on this blog, really don't know how much that has mean't to him. We've always known we had great friends - more than our fair share - but this experience has brought that home.

If you are inspired, please send those cards, notes, emails and give the old man - and I DO mean old (wow, he'll be 62 this year and still everyone thinks he's barely 50!) - a boost on the big day.

The cancer road

It's been a while since I updated this blog - it's been a very busy time. So here's the latest:

Steve's doing really pretty well. He's recovering really well from the surgery and his incision (ugly as sin at the start) is healed so well that you might not realize it was there. What is a much slower process, however, is the recovery of his muscles and his strength. He is regaining some of that and he's walking more upright and starting to do some daily exercises to strengthen his abdominal muscles and his legs.

As expected, his appetite is unpredictable. Even when he's hungry, he doesn't eat so much. He's not losing weight, but he's also not putting it on. Tammy brought over a ton of food this weekend - along with Steve's former boss, Steve Caldwell. We had a really nice visit and a great meatloaf!

This round of chemo is higher dose than what he had before and the effects are more pronounced. He's had nausea, which he didn't have before, and some vomiting. He also has bouts of very severe and painful abdominal cramping. When we went to chemo today the nurse practitioner prescribed some anti-spasmodics to help mitigate that.

Because the effects of the chemo are unpredictable, I am going with Steve each week as he gets his juice. We went together for his first appointment, but they ended up sending him for an ultrasound and pushing the chemo off to the next day. So for the first two weeks he went by himself. But more and more I realized that no one should go through this alone - even if it's just someone to sit by your side in the chemo "suite" while the poison that's going to save your life flows. As crowded as that place is, it seems one of the loneliest places in the world.

Today, I was sitting by his chair watching the other patients: The young woman who goes every day probably for about a four or five hour stint. She spends most of her time in the chair chattering on the cell phone with girlfriends and family. Or the elderly couple - he with cancer, she by his side - fixing blankets, gently adjusting pillows, reaching out with an ancient touch. Or the tough-guy sitting next to us ... knitting. Some read, some sleep, some just look around. Occasionally, there's some conversation but for the most part it is quiet, strangely peaceful. I will be there each time with Steve because this journey is not one to take alone. Even if I am only there to fetch a blanket or stretch out my hand.

Chemo: Round 2

A new course of chemo started on Thursday. It was supposed to be Wednesday, but when we met with the oncologist (Stephenson) he sent Steve to the hospital for an ultrasound of his leg to rule out that he might have a DVT (deep vein thrombosis). He's been having a lot of pain in his leg, which has concerned us. But fortunately there doesn't appear to be any clot.

Because that took the better part of the day on Wednesday, they pushed Steve's chemo day to Thursday.

Going to the oncologist is kind of like airline travel. You have a 9:30 appointment and they appear to take you on time but then you sit in the examination room for more than an hour waiting for the actual doctor to appear. It's like the flight being considered to be on time because they pushed away from the gate - and then sat for hours on the runway! But, always being prepared, I had a deck of cards with me. So Steve and I played several "shoes" of blackjack before the doc came in. Then he played two hands (losing). He's actually a pretty cool guy and we both feel very comfortable with him. But unfortunately it's a very busy practice. We never go to the cancer center that it is not teeming with people in the waiting rooms, in the chemo suites, in radiation. It is always a depressing start to the day - at least for me.

The chemo suite is much like you've seen on TV - big lounge chairs for the patients, hard uncomfortable chairs for the care givers (there are some more comfortable ones but you've got to get there early to snag one). His first round of chemo was an infusion pump that he got hooked up with on Monday, wore all week and then turned in on Friday. This round is the traditional sit-in-the-chair-and-get-juiced. Some people get 4-5 hours of chemo and may go several times a week. Steve's treatments are two bags that take a little more than two hours to drip in... he also gets an additional drug that is injected during the treatment - Leukovin - that enhances the effectiveness of the 5-FU (that's the chemo drug name). The info they gave us on that also says it may heighten the side effects.

Side effect wise, the first and almost immediate impact was the return of "metal mouth". Apparently, almost all chemo patients experience this, which is when almost everything you eat or drink has a nasty metallic taste to it. This makes eating a less than enjoyable experience and, in Steve's case where he needs to put on some weight to be stronger to handle the treatments, it's a double challenge.

He's had one small bout of nausea and I'm hoping that it was unrelated to the chemo. Won't really know about that until we see if there's more of that to come. I pray not.

That's about it for now. More later this week.

Medical Update

We saw the surgeon for a follow up on Friday and all the news was good. Dr. Trocha removed the stitches in Steve's backside, which has alleviated a lot of the pressure he'd been feeling. That's making it a lot easier to sit. It was, however, pretty painful for Steve - especially that last stitch that was pretty deep and took several efforts (and a second set of bigger snippers!) to accomplish.

The remaining steri strips were removed and we got a good look at the incision. I was shocked! Shocked at how good it looked. Honestly, it has healed beautifully and after only four weeks, you can barely see it. Amazing.

We've both had trouble sleeping lately, so Dr. Trocha gave us a prescription - both of us - for meds, which are helping. You can't underestimate the value of a good night's sleep - or the negative effect of not getting one.

Steve got the OK to drive and to do more exercising, incuding some more lifting. Exercise is going to be critical to him putting on some weight. As you see in this photo - taken Saturday - he's a little thin. He's down to about 132 lbs and even though he's eating fairly well, his metabolism is so high that he just can't put on any weight. The only thing that's going to bulk him up is muscle mass. Fortunately - again - it's always been easy for him to buff up once he commits to it.

A new round of chemo begins on Wednesday. I'll update the blog Wednesday night with info on how that goes. I hope it will not be too tough on him. He's been through so much already.

This is one more step down the last leg of our journey. It is amazing to me the impact cancer has on your life. Since his diagnosis, it has become the single, central gear around which our lives revolved. It's almost as if weverything else in our lives stopped and only the cancer moved -- first advancing, then retreating, but always there. It has seemed at times that this has gone on for years. And at other times, I am amazed how quickly time has flown.

Nonetheless, I will be happy to see 2007 slip away. With it will go the cancer, the surgeries, the weakness, the sleeplessness and the fear. Life will be changed, but life will go on. That is something to be very thankful for -- whatever the road we had to travel to get here.