No Go

We didn't get that house we wanted.

We offered. He countered. We were going to offer again but his realtor told our realtor that he would not budge any lower than his counter, which was still too high for us. So we walked away.

That was a pretty hard thing to do - walk away. As tempting as it was to say "screw our budget! let's get this house!" and agree to his outrageous price, we are proud of ourselves for sticking to our guns and not giving in at all.

And now, in retrospect, I feel so much relief! The layout and master suite of that house were the perfect parts of the house. But then there was a list of problems that would need to be fixed or changed soon after moving in that A) we couldn't afford right away and B) we shouldn't have to deal with right after spending so much on a new house! I dreaded having to fix those problems or, knowing us, ignoring and working around them for months on end.

These were all things that I wouldn't admit to myself or Pete or anyone else for that matter because I liked the floorplan and master bedroom so much. I guess my priorities were a bit out of whack!

So we're jumping back on the horse right away. We've already started searching the web for new listings and we're hoping to walk through a few of them over this weekend.

Our realtor has been great throughout this process! Way better than the one we had when we moved down here from Fort Collins! She is on the ball and typically returns our calls or answers our emails within just a couple hours and she's been totally available for us these last few days as we made our offer and such, despite the fact that her own father is in the hospital! We'll back off her for a while so she can take care of her dad during this difficult time he's having.

The great news is that now we know going in exactly how much we have to spend on a house and exactly what we are looking for. After all of this, we have a much better idea of how much these types of homes are worth so our touring more houses probably won't take nearly as long as it did last time!

Have you ever been so passionate about something that you wanted so very badly and then for one reason or another lost your opportunity to get that thing you so desired, only to look back to scrutinize all the things wrong with it and all the stuff you actually didn't like but wouldn't admit to anyone??

Offer

Well, we are submitting our offer today. Once our Realtor gets the paperwork drawn up and we meet her to sign it.

Something in my gut tells me the seller will not agree to our offer.

We have a maximum amount of how high we are willing and financially able to negotiate but I don't believe he's going to take that offer either. It all depends on how desperate he is.

This kind of sucks. It's like we've lost the house before we've even put our bid in. But as they say, "We'll never know unless we try," right?

Who's crazy idea was it to start this house hunting and buying fiasco anyway!? (it was me)

My Feet are Cold (but this post has nothing to do with my actual feet!)

It's been a week today since I saw and fell in love with "The house on Greatwood" and ever since then, we constantly talk and plan and run numbers and make phone calls and schedule meetings and consider tons of worst case scenarios and play devil's advocate and run more numbers and write an extensive list of Pros and Cons (Pros won by a landslide) and think and talk and dream about this house. Granted, it's surely given us something more positive and future-focused than youknowwhat.

And now, all of a sudden, I find myself terrified to make an offer on this house!

I feel sort of like I did on my wedding day, just moments before I walked down the aisle. Although I was absolutely positive that I loved Pete and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and that he felt exactly the same way, I had a single blurry gut-dropping moment of almost paralyzing fear. Naturally, that fear disappeared the instant my dad took me by the arm and guided me around the corner so that I could finally see my soulmate's eyes and know for certain that this was the best thing that I've ever been 100% sure about: marrying him.

But houses don't have eyes like that. They can't pat you on the back and tell you it's alright. And since Pete and I are adults now, we have to deal with our fears on our own - with each other.

In an attempt to help me through this fear I have, Pete sent me a handful of more home listings for houses similar to The Greatwood House, just so I could browse them and make sure I didn't want to go see anything else. Out of that handful, I only found one that I'd even consider walking through but still, some of the things in the pictures online just could not compare to the feelings I get in my gut when I see the pictures or recall the images of The Greatwood House!

When I think of The Greatwood House, I feel warm, welcome and cozy. I am thrilled that there will be way more room for us to have guests over and not be totally embarassed by all the piles of STUFF everywhere. Room for us to have adequate time to ourselves in different parts of the house without actually leaving each other (Pete claims the basement - the middle unfinished section as his workout room, while the attached finished rooms will be his darkroom, his own full bathroom, etc.). And even though it's someone else's bedroom, when I walked through the Master bedroom, I already felt more comfortable in that one than I ever have in our current one. It would be a very nice change of scenery and location on my bad post-chemo days...I won't have to be stuck on the couch downstairs anymore!

Hey, maybe it sounds like I've just talked myself out of the fear I felt at the begining of this post and maybe I have. Or at the very least, I've brought myself back down to reality that despite all the nit-picky details that we've been discussing for a week (important things to be brought up during negotiations and inspections, etc), overall, I still love this house. I want it to be our house!

So I need to ask you all, is it normal to feel so scared and have such cold feet about this big step we're about to take? This will be our third home purchase -- I'd have thought I'd be used to it by now. Is it normal? Have you felt like this when you've bought houses or other such big life-altering things? I know this is a drastic change in life, much as marriage, divorce, birth or death in a family, new job, etc. So where are the rules we're supposed to follow to ensure we are making the right desicion???

Before...and then...After

So many times I hear something on the radio or see something on TV or somebody starts telling a story and if this thing that I'm hearing or seeing involves a specific date in the past 5 years or so, I immediately think, Oh, that was right before my diagnosis...or I was just diagnosed before that happened...followed by the unconscious but given thought that is ...when everything fell apart.

But that's not really true because even though things that happened, say, on May 16, 2007 was BEFORE the big D-day (diagnosis day), I still had this cancer growing inside of me. It has almost always been here. I'm fairly certain that when I first went to the doctors for my recurring upper abdomen pains in the late 90's, it was just this fancy tumor taking root and starting to grow. The doctors would never have imagined that I'd have this little nasty slowly taking over my liver at the time...and, as much as I'd like to blame someone, I can't say I blame them for thinking that way. That was back when it was teenie weenie and probably much easier to have been cut right out. I'm not dwelling on the past or what could've, should've, wished've been. I'm just stating a fact of something I think about fairly regularly. So, by that rationale, this all negates my "Before D-day" thoughts.

Sure, I also do this with regards to Before Pete and I got married and After my mom moved out but for some reason these don't seem as significant as the D-day marker. It's not depressing, really, it's just a statement of fact that I twirl around very often.

Here's where it's your turn...
Do you have any special dates (good and/or not so good) that you often habitually think of your life in terms of "Before" and "After?" If so, do you do anything special to acknowledge that date in any special way? (I'm not talking about your basic Wedding Anniversaries or other significant dates for which Hallmark has made a card. Dig a little deeper and you might find that you actually do think in such terms with regards to The Day We Brought Home Fluffy From The Pound or The Day Before I Kicked Out My Crazy ExHusband...you know, those sorts of things.) Lay 'em on me in the comments section! I'd love to read about yours, too!

Alien Spit and Obi-Wan Kenobi

That's what Dr. Gupta calls chemotherapy drugs. Like in the scary alien movies, it's all acidic and bubbly as it eats through anything in its path! ROAR! He's always good for a laugh but he's totally right on with that description!

He's on board with doing another chemoembolization. Horray! Third time's a charm, right? Remember we did this in both October as well as March of 2008? Plus the next one will be different in some fancy scientific way that I choose not to describe to you here on my blog. Let's just say it's more concentrated and better...that's all we really care about, right? :)

He's going to get ahold of Dr. Curley (who STILL has not given his report of my visit to Dr. Kane! Grrrrr!), "cc: Dr. Kane," to get his report of my visit, then talk with Dr. Kane about managing the weening me off of Avastin for 6 weeks and the chemo drugs for 2-3 weeks prior to the procedure. YES YES AND YES!!!!!!!!! He wants me to email him in two weeks to find out where he's at in the process.

Also, the dude
gave us the best news we have heard so far during the year 2009! He told us that "the tumor has shrunk about 1/3 of the size in volume since we started treating it with everything" and that "the almost-two years of systemic chemotherapy, two chemoembos and 20 doses of proton radiation has obviously worked to pull the tumor away from the artery concerned." (I've been saying vein but apparently it's "artery" instead. I never could keep those two seaparate in Biology class!) He says, "All of this buys us much more time, as long as you continue to manage the chemotherapy this well!" Considering last Friday's liver, kidneys', spleens', etc all functions look as good as a person's without this big ass tumor on the liver, I am still defying the odds against me!

YEAH! TAKE THAT SUCKER TUMOR! NOM NOM ON THAT ALIEN SPIT!

I've said it before and I'll say it again, he's a short little man and he looks kinda freaky with his bald head and deep-set dark eyes. But today I wanted to pick up that little man and hug the caboodles outta him! Alas, I refrained. I love that he treats me and Pete like we know what we're doing in all of this...because we do! Duh! He is honest and straightforward with us, tells us about "European studies that aren't even published yet" and the like. He trusts us and we trust him.

So back to more waiting. Which I don't really mind, having all this good news to hold on to as I swim in this never-ending pool of chemotherapy, nastsy symptoms and side effects and such! At least they're working on it from behind the scenes and soon we will take the next step. Something in my gut has been telling me for a very long time that this next chemoembo is going to do the trick. This one will work exactly how we need it to.

For you original Star Wars fans out there, you might appreciate this: I like to think of Dr. Gupta now as Obi-Wan Kenobi, in the sense that I am Princess Leia in the holographic message sent to him (although intercepted) via R2-D2, in which she says, "Help me, Obi-Wan Kanobi! You're my only hope!"

First Class Chemo

Boy do I ever count myself lucky! Friday, Daddy took me to the clinic for my usual, three-appointment day, starting with a blood draw/test, followed by a visit with my doc and finally a four hour stint getting a refill of chemo in my body. The first two appointments went so smoothly, we got out of the main clinic just around 10am. My appointment in Infusion (that's where they give the chemo) wasn't until 12:15 so I tip-toed in there, and asked my always-crazed friend/scheduler Callie if things were going well enough, maybe they could slip me in early? Hurrah! They could!

Not only that but Daddy and I got our own WHOLE ROOM, instead of just a wee little cubicle surrounded by loud guys on their cell phones trying to pretend that getting chemo's just as simple as, say, getting an emissions test done on your car; or the old ladies who can't read the signs attached to their little TV's that instruct everyone to PLEASE use the headphones provided with the television, for the courtesy of other people around them (there is almost always at least one lady who ignores this sign, unplugs their headphones so that their compaion or whomever came with them that day, could also hear Judge Joe Brown or whatever at top volume. I tolerate it well, usually. That's what all those happy and sleepy pre-drugs are for! :)

But this time we got a ROOM! I got a bed and dad got the recliner! Sure, it's still a hospital bed but it's a step up from the limiting recliner! Plus, one of my pal nurses likes to go hunting for one of those hospital tables for us every time I show up so that we can play on our computers or eat in comfort. She's not afraid to walk into another patient's cubicle, blurt out, "Are you using that table at all???" grab it and bring it to us! LOL That, a blanket and two pillows later and we felt like we were in First Class! Oh, and the TV was twice the size of the little ones in the cubicles!

Of course I got my favorite Nurse Nicole with her boss Regan backing her up when she'd be preoccupied with other patients. Seriously, after a year and a half of continuous chemotherapy, it's no wonder I've befriended and bonded with so many of these nurses and aides on the floor! The whole First Class treatment made getting chemo so much more bearable this time around! (Naturally, I paid for it later...in almost debilitating pain and overall discomfort the rest of the weekend.)

Meeting with Dr. Kane went well. Liver function and all blood work looks good as gold (as usual)! This coming week, Pete and I will meet with the surgeon (Gupta) who did my two previous chemoembolizations (aka TACE's) last year to see if he's ready to use the special parameters that MD Anderson measured of my body in order to more-specifically target the chemoembo directly where we need this sucker to shrink. Last time I saw him, he was stoked to do it! Here's hoping he hasn't changed his mind! I'll keep you posted! (If you are direct family, please DO NOT CALL us for an update. Fear not, as soon as we find anything out from Dr. Gupta, we will immediately update on this blog. If I answer one phone call, then it'll ring off the hook the rest of the week. Please don't do that to us! Thanks!)

As Kane and I speculate, I'll need to get off Avastin for at least one month prior to the procedure, and off all the chemo drugs probably a week or two prior. If I fly through the procedure and recovery as well as I did last time (and not as horribly as I did the first time last March), I can go right back on regular chemo regimine (with Avastin) within 2 weeks after the procedure. Kane assured me that for this one, I'll get two nights on the ONCOLOGY floor of the hospital! Talk about First Class Treatment!!! I hear that place is almost like Club Med! ;)

I discovered today that there is really something to be said for mild activity no matter how crummy I feel. I slept horribly last night, my whole body ached all morning, lots of pain in a variety of areas (nothing new, just comes with the chemo), and extremely sleepy! But by 4pm this afternoon, I was sick of being so sickly! So I slowly pealed myself off the sofa, changed my clothes and pushed Pete and the dogs to the car to take us all to the dog park! En route I got me an iced coffee which is yummy and a rare treat for me! The first few minutes at the dog park were challenging for me but I pluged right on through, being surrounded by all that happy doggy energy and such! I never knew just how protective Scarlett is of me! She doesn't like any other dogs coming near her mama! It's mean behavior but I'll admit I was very touched by her loyalty to me!

Twenty minutes later, as we headed home, I felt 70% better than I had all day! All it took was a little nudge in the right direction. But when I came home and started working in the garden like a mad woman, Pete made me stop and get ahold of myself, reminding me not to overdo it! Duh. That's one of my major problems I'm still trying to get a grip on: no over doing it!

Anyway, that was pretty much my weekend. It sort of feels like yesterday didn't even happen. I did absolutely nothing but sleep and moan yesterday. Obviously, today was better.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that Pete did a little house hunting on our behalf this morning? He may have actually found THE ONE! :) I'd like to go see it on Tuesday. Oh boy! I hate packing! LOL

Have a lovely Sunday evening, everyone!

I need some advice, please!

I'm a sucker for lost animals. If we're driving anywhere and I spot a dog or a cat along the side of the road without a person nearby, I have a tendancy to whine pitifully enough to Pete so that he'll pull over and let me do what I do: get out of the car, slowly approach the animal (yes, I am aware of rabies so I do approach with caution and if the animal runs away from me, then I don't chase after it...duhh!), try to get close enough to see if he has a collar on. At this point, if the animal came from a cozy home full of love then he probably will approach me or let me get close enough to him to see his collar. Then I hold the collar, look for an identification and/or rabies tag, contact the owners and make everyone happy! Yay! More often than not, though, the animals I find will only have a rabies tag but no ID tag. I've tried contacting the number on the rabies tags but they're not allowed or do not have ID information out to people who call. Great. So helpful.

If it's a dog, I easily bring him home, keep him in our back yard (covering the bottom half of the sliding glass door so that our dogs don't go absolutely loco over the intruder in their yard!), make up some "FOUND DOG" signs with our phone number and post them on community mailbox boxes all around for a couple of blocks. These situations usually have turned out to be successful, too! I've gotten close but never had to take an animal to the Dumb Friends' League yet! Whew!

For the past five days, we've seen an adorable white and yellow tabby cat wandering between the front yard of the house on the corner, two doors down and in our back yard. The past three nights he's either been hunting along the perimeter of the bushes that line our back fence as he hunts for the mice who live under there, lounging on out porch to take in some sun on his belly, or otherwise just crawling around the top edge of the fence. Pete brought out a bowl of food for him the first night and he ate slowly while we were watching but by the time we got up the next morning, he (or the mice!) had eaten all the food.

He has a collar but, naturally, no name tag, only the rabies deal. He seems loving and chunky and healthy. He approached me with no fear (well, by cat standards, of course). He is also the first cat I've really seen roaming around outside in our neighborhood in the 5 years we've lived here (I think there is something in the covenants that frown upon this) -- except for the group of 4 college girls who rented the house next door for a couple years...they had a black and white cat they'd let out every day who would love to come to our back door, stand up on his hind legs and pound on our glass door only to make our three cats furiously switch into ATTACK mode: tails poofed up, backs arched, hairs standing on end, fangs showing, strange growling, screaming and spitting sounds coming from them. Very scary! But the girls (whom we referred to as "Teen Girl Squad") probably didn't even know what a covenant was and I doubt the landlord mentioned it to them.

ANYWAY...I don't care if kitties roam the yards around here -- with the exception of the care I have for the birds that I love to listen to all day long. If they start disappearing then I'm going to have issues with such stray cats.

So this cute cat has no ID. But maybe he's just been let outside by his owners to get some freedom the last few days since it's been a bit cooler than it was last week. But I don't know if I should post a FOUND CAT sign on the mailboxes or not? I'm not going to try to captrue this cat because even if I could do it without getting myelf all scratched up (he did let me pick him up the other day but not for very long). Nor do I want to try to cage him up or lock him in our garage some how simply because he seems to be having a great time in our back yard. Of course we always look out and make sure he's nowhere in sight before we let the dogs out there to do their stuff.

What do you think? Should I put up a "FOUND CAT" or "I'VE SEEN A CAT WITH A COLLAR IN MY BACK YARD - COULD HE BE YOURS?" sign with my phone number on it? If the owner just wanted to leave the cat out during the daytimes, that's quite alright with me! But if he's been misplaced or something, I want to help him find his home. What would you do if you were in my shoes/socks?

Questions for YOU!

I am an extremely curious soul so I've added a new thing to my blog!

Near the end of each post, you will usually find, in bold and in a different colored text than the rest of the post, a question directed at you about the subject I've written. I want to know your point of view, your experiences, your opinions. I believe by doing so, I not only get to know you better but I also get to cure my loneliness from time to time this way. Not to mention the fact that ya'll may even get to know each other better! But please, no religious or political debates with me or another commenter - I'm asking for something more constructive than debates.

And sometimes, when I'm having a particularly hard day, I may not pose a question to you but you are welcome to empathize in your comments, if you want.

I wrote a short post yesterday and I wrote up the one before that regarding middle school to which I've added some questions this morning! If you want to, go on backt there and leave your two cents! The doors are open!

Don't Join the Club

It seems to me that more and more celebrities and/or people we know personally are being diagnosed with cancer.

Is that true? Is there really more now than there were, say, three years ago? Or am I just noticing more now that I'm part of the club?

Maybe it's like when you're considering a big purchase like, say, a car and once you've picked one or two you're seriously thinking about laying money down for, you start seeing more of that particular model car on the roads on a daily basis. We do that with houses. Yes we are still casually looking for a new(er) house to buy in the Ranch. We're being very particular since we want this next one to be our Forever Home in which we'll have and grow kids into teenagers then rock crotchedly on the porch as an old man and his wife! Now that we're looking for particular things in such a house, we're seeing more and more of those particulars as we look around: three-car garages, windows by the front door, more windows on all sides of the house, no walk-out basements (these are few and far between in The Ranch!), etc.

So, tell me, is it like that? Or is there really, truly more cancer diagnoses of famous people, friends and family than ever before? I'm talking about just today, this week, this month, really! Farrah Fawcett just died of it. Patrick Swayze is still fighting it. Maura Tierney just found out she has it (sorry, I couldn't find reputable links for these three). Plus, I've emailed or chatted with some people just today who let me know of three other non-famous people whojust joined this nasty Club with me!

It's a stupid Club, really. You don't want to join it. We might do arts and crafts sometimes but it's not worth the membership fee (aka CoPay!). Seriously. Go join Kiwanis or the Red Cross instead. Or, if you really must join some kind of cancer club, go sign up to help the American Cancer Society instead! But whatever you do, please, my friends and my family, don't come joining my Club unless your doctors give you absolutely no other choice! In which case....we'll be here for you.

Now I am curious to know if I am just noticing it more because I have it or what. You can help! Think back about the past three years or so. Do you feel there has been an increase of cancer diagnosis in the media in that time frame? Or have you heard of more and more "regular" people (ie. people that you know, your family knows, a friend of a friend, etc.) getting such a diagnosis?

Old Friends, part one

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears.
- Simon & Garfunkel, "Old Friends"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the past five days, the doors to my past have been pushed open as several of my friends from long, long ago came flooding back into my life! I am certainly not complaining; I'm just rather shocked that it all happened at once! Let's do what Pooh suggests, "start at the beginning, and when we come to the end...Stop."

After we moved to Colorado in the early '80's (where were you in the Blizzard of '82?!), I went to public elementary school, just like everyone else I knew. But in 3rd grade, my teacher was a big ole' meany and actually repeatedly punished me for finishing my classwork ahead of the rest of the class. She'd write my name up on the chalkboard which apparently meant I'd been bad and it was important for the whole class to see that. Whatever. It sucked. After several heated arguments with the teacher in question and the principle of the school, my parents yanked me right out of there and put me in private school, where I remained from 4th through 8th grade.

It's a lovely school, St. Anne's. Large, beautiful campus; small, more focused class sizes. If you went to St. Anne's which schooled children from Montisorri through 8th grade, you pretty much knew everyone else in the school, including the teachers. Keep this next part in mind as I tell you the rest of this story: my class held mostly the same people in it for the four years I was there...all 40 of us. Two homeroom classes, each consisting of 20 kids.

Unfortunately, I never quite fit in with the kids at St. Anne's. I tried, really I did. I kept up with them intellectually (that is, until we dove into Trigonometry in 6th grade...I hate math!) but I never could keep up with them financially, I guess. The majority of the kids there came from wealthy families, the likes of which I never understood. While those kids and their parents supported the development of the sparkling new Cherry Creek Mall, my parents struggled to make ends meet and there was even talk one time of having to move into an apartment. Mostly, that's why I felt out of place.

I had just a couple of very dear friends throughout those years; sort of like the outcasted group of girls that I'm pretty sure existed in just about every school across America within that age group (right?).

But those struggles I often had of not fitting in doesn't mean I didn't have a great time while I was there! It wasn't horrible at all! most of the time it was great having only 40 kids in our class...it made me much more comfortable as I learned what I now realized was the more advanced education, having such a small class size (Trig in 6th grade? I wrote a 15 page research paper on Subliminal Messages in 7th grade, too!). Most of the teachers were relatively nice, and if they were mean (*ahem* Mr. Laboree!) surely it was "for our best interest!" They were never as mean as that b*tCh I had in 3rd grade, thankfully! Also, we'd spend the better part of the first semester of our 8th grade year selling things like chocolate bars, magazine subscriptions, holiday wreaths, etc, just to save up enough money for all of us to fly to and tour the highlights of Washington D.C.! Boy, was that ever an eye-opening trip for me! And how fun for the bunch of tween kids to travel halfway across the country without their parents (the teachers that escorted us must've had migranes 24/7 for the week we were there!)!

A n y w a y....that's where I went to school during my younger years. You get the idea now, right?

A couple of months ago, two of those dear friends I mentioned above as part of my "oddball" group tracked me down and sent me messages on Facebook! We caught up and through browsing each others' photo albums, swapping emails back and forth and reading each others' daily status lines, we've gotten to know each other better as adults now. I found out from one of these lovely ladies that a male classmate of ours had passed away in a plane crash a few years back. I remember having an enormous crush on this kid for what felt like a long time (it was probably only a month!). But besides that, of course it's sad to hear that anyone even remotely close to you has passed away. Then again, I really grieved the loss of Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon and my oncologist's husband all in one week even though I never even met a single one of them, nor was I much of a fan. But still. Death is death and with death comes grief.

I didn't hear from many more St. Anne's class of 1990 Alumni until late last week when one of my classmates sent out a class-wide email, attempting to verify that the last email address we'd all given in the yearly updates they've asked for were still working addresses. I wrote her back immediately to confirm mine was still mine and did that initial, "Haven't seen you in years! What are you up to lately!?" message. (my technique probably isn't that unique in that I'll usually say something along those lines first and then if I get a happy, wordy, explanatory response, then I'll reply again with more details on my life as well...you know how it goes!) She told me that she's in the early stages of organizing our 20th Class Reunion for next year. (I told you this was one serious school to have 8th grade graduation class reunions every decade!) She went on to apologize for being the bearer of bad news but that one of our other classmates had just recently passed away that week after being on life support for a short while.

I immediately felt like I had been kicked in the stomach.

I had trouble believing that out of the small group of 40 kids in our class, 2 of them have already passed away (that I know of). I'm not big on statistics but that whole concept just freaked me out.

And then the grief kicked in. After a couple more swaps of emails, I was unable to learn just how she died but then I quickly realized that it doesn't really matter...she just died. She's no longer with us. :(

I knew her pretty well back in St. Anne's and I have a handful of fond memories of her and a particular birthday party she had once. These are vague memories so if I even attempted to describe them to you, they'd just come out sounding as if I were telling you about last night's dream I had!

Soon there will be a memorial service for her at the school where I'll probably be able to find out more information, if I am able to go. But again, it doesn't matter how...only that "how" is the closest thing we, as human beings, can get to "why" death happens. I suddenly found myself in a pit of grief for a few days (and still am). In the process of catching up with the original email sender, I was able to get my bestest friends from that school's email address, as well as become "friends" with a couple of other pals from school (one of which I went out with for one week in 5th grade. We had been good buddies before we started "going out" together but during that short week, we avoided each other's calls, would refuse to actually go anywhere together and basically just ignored each other while on campus together. Hahaha We probably just weren't ready to start dating yet! By the end of that week, we had broken up and were right back to our chatty, laughing, friendly friendship again!).

So by week's end last week, I suddenly found myself somehow surrounded by my old middle school friends. I keep befriending one on Facebook, then see a couple of their friends are also old classmates so I then befriend them and the cycle goes on! I'm starting to dig this Facebook business!

That was middle school.

Here's your turn: What was your middle school experience like? I've always wondered just what the difference was between such public and private institutions. I know the whole concept of "struggling to fit in" is a universal issue that all pre-teens deal with during their middle school years. But I'm also curious to know how else did you feel maybe you didn't fit in with many others? Or, if you did find yourself amongst the "In Crowd," what was that like, too?

Next came the unofficial reunion of my tight-knit group of friends that also happened over the weekend!

To be continued...

No No Chemo

Didn't get chemo today cause my numbers were just barely too low. It's those darned platelets again: 89,000 but she won't infuse under 100K. But that's alright with me since we were already considering changing to a three-week schedule instead of the current two-week deal. So next week I'll load 'em up, head back to UCH and give it another try! (I came home and took my nap anyway!)

Dr. Kane looked tired, sad and worn down. Her hair was kind of stringy, eyes puffy...she looked like she was barely keeping it together. I don't blame her, poor woman just lost her husband! I wanted to hug her a lot but we kept it professional and just shook hands and shared kind, empathetic words. She's not back to full time at the clinic but she said if I had any questions to keep emailing her and she will respond.

Whatever did I do without a day hooked up to a bunch of liquid medication bags, you say? Well, I took that little nap I referenced to earlier, and then we made our 6-month trip to WalMart! Pete's in the room with me, working on the Wii Active "game" he just brought home and Scarlett is convinced it's a game and he is doing repeated squats because he must want her pink fluffy bone toy! Now she's sitting behind him watching curiously as he's running in place like the game told him to! Poor thing doesn't know the difference between "working out" and "playing!" LOL

Tonight my BF Maggie is doing her Relay for Life for the American Cancer Society in Gardner, Kansas! We had originally planned on driving out to surprise and join her again like last year but with this crazy and undependable chemotherapy schedule of mine, I was unable to actually do it. Boo. She's done an awesome job personally collecting donations towards her goal of $1000. If you haven't but still want to, I bet you can still donate or purchase a luminaria (I bought 4 I think!) via her RFL site! Go for it! And, in the meantime, YOU ROCK, MAGGIE! YOU'RE DOING A GREAT JOB FOR A SUPER CAUSE!!!!!!

Highlands Ranch (where I live...don't stalk me, please) is hosting their 25th Relay for Life on the 24th of July and another friend of mine is involved in the coordination and planning. Since it's local and not a chemo-weekend, Pete and I are planning on going, at least for a while. If you're in the area and would like to join us, let me know so I can let her know and we'll find out how and where to meet! If I get more info, I'll pass it onto you, as it gets closer.

Tomorrow afternoon we're going to a Rockies game! Hopefully, I won't melt into a puddle of sweat! :)

What are your weekend plans?

My Daddy

My Daddy is the best in the whole wide world! And not even on Father's Day but EVERY DAY!

(He says I'm his favorite daughter/child/little girl which is funny for a second since I am his only child! So then sometimes I say he's the best dad I ever had! I am totally my father's daughter!)


Like today: he came over and we sat in and enjoyed my/our garden (it's in my yard but he and Carol did most of the work prepping, digging, cussing and planting earlier in the spring!). Today we tried to figure out what little critter is eating so much of some of my plants' leaves that they end up looking like delicate pieces of lace when they're through with them. Then we went to ACE Hardware (when do we ever not go there?!) and got some necessities to spruce up and protect the garden for the rest of the season.

And he's funny, too!

And these two are cut from the same cloth!


And smart! He's a member of Mensa, you know?

He has lots of love for this lady!


And he loves all kinds of animals (and 60 acres of land and animals of all kinds to prove it!)!

He's just the best! I thought you should know. And now you do.

Go forth and prosper.

Unleash

I just got an email from a dear long-time friend, in which she says, "You have a lot of strength and determination to unleash." I needed that reminder today, I really did. And that was the first time I've had the word "unleash" used in this context. It makes me think of that scene in Lord of the Rings (Fellowship of the Ring) when Gandalf is struggling to hold on tight to the crumbling stone bridge in the Mines of Moriah, all of a sudden, from the firey depths below, the Balrog (was it his tail? and arm? some other strange appendage?) reaches up almost gracefully and, like a whip, grabs a tight hold on Gandalf and yanks him down into the hellish abyss. The action of the Balrog right at that moment is what I think of when I read the word "unleash."

Sure, it's a greusome scene and although you don't actually see the full body or even the face of the Balrog, you can just tell by the scene from which he reaches up for Gandalf, that it is a terrible and powerful creature...so much so that not even Gandalf can keep him at bay (at least not at this part of the story!). One might think I've got it backwards; that the Balrog would represent the tumor and Gandalf stands for me. That would make perfect sense on the surface. But dig deeper and you can see how I see it. If I am to be the stronger one, the one with such power, conviction and might that I can defeat anything (again, even Gandalf the Gray), wouldn't I then choose to play the role of the Balrog in this scene? It's unfortunate to think of Gandalf as the cancerous tumor but just humor me for a moment as I do... Gandalf is powerful, too, with his unfathomable sorcery and strength, especially for such a lanky old man. Nobody knows, really, how he does it but he has been able to fight off many dangers in his unusually long life. Isn't that sort of like this tumor? It shrank a little in the begining but lately, no matter how much I drown it in the poison that is chemotherapy, it seems almost impenetrable and incredibly strong.

With all that said, of course I choose to be the more powerful one, the Balrog from the deep, because deep down within me, in the abyss who's floor not even I can imagine, I have the power to unleash upon this Gandalfian tumor and destroy it. Please, let's not go any further with the story in this scenario - we can only pretend that Gandalf's the bad guy (tumor) here for just so long! And most of you know the true fate of Gandalf the Gray (or is it White?).

All of this pondering, pretending and yammering has brought me to this simple point that I wanted to make in the first place: I have some really fantastic friends in my world.

I want to thank every one of you for being my friend. I feel your prayers and thoughts among me and they give me strength. Those of you who are local and have brough meals by and stayed for even a short visit have CURED the virtually endless loneliness that I once felt! Some others of you send cards with simple notes just reminding me that you love me or to just give me something to chuckle at. And the rest of you send me thoughts and, sometimes, emails just so I know that you're out there thinking of me and pulling along with me through this long and arduous journey.

Early on in this journey, I began referring to all my treatments, appointments and challenges in the third person. Instead of saying, "I have an appointment," I'd say, "We have an appointment." Etc. etc. You get the picture. I did this in an attempt to convince myself that when Pete says, "I'm right here with you every step of the way. You are not alone." he really, truly means it. And it has worked, believe me!

And I just want to let you all know that I know that you're right here with us, too! Not only pulling and praying, advocating and supporting, but you're fighting and worrying right along with us. Sometimes we forget but often times we remember that you're here with us in spirit, one way or another. And together we'll all get through this.

Now, a brief but meaningful message to my liver: COME ON, BUDDY!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!! YOU CAN PUSH IT AWAY SO THAT WE CAN REALLY HELP YOU GET RID OF THAT INTRUDER!!! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!!!

Stuff You Probably Want to Know

Home from Houston. The travel was smooth and easy, despite my chemo woes. It's the day or so after returning back home that've been hard on my ole' body.

Dr. Curley visit was fairly uneventful.
Everything's the same. Nothing new. No growing, no spreading. No shrinking, either. Everything's just the same same same.

Where do we go from here?
We go back to UCH, look over the newest scans and blood work with Dr. Kane and work with her on the next steps forward.

I have an appointment to meet with her next Friday (7/10), as long as she's back to work after the death of her husband.

There's lots to be thankful for here and yet we can't help but feel frustration at the same time, too!

Moving forward...