I just read about Kiva.org

I just love this idea.

You know what's cute? Casey.

Here he is sleeping on the bookcases in Chuck's office. I used to study for tests like this, certain that the information in the books would leak into my brain. No wonder I crammed four years of college into six.

Claire has an avatar

Let's let HER explain it.

Becoming More Chemo-Savvy

Tuesday was a long day. Many clusterf***s at MD Anderson. Liz was right. The medicine part is good but the administration is BROKEN. They had to draw blood twice. Let's see. I'm a chemo patient. I'm in a cancer hospital. Wonder if I need the CBCs checked. Nope. Yes? Ok. Stick her again.

I had no appt with the oncologist scheduled, despite attempting to leave messages into the full voice mailbox of the busiest person at MD Anderson -- his scheduler. When I finally got in front of her and kicked a chair, she told me it was the doctor's fault. I told her we should have him fired -- how could I have blood work and chemo scheduled without the oncologist? Then she blamed the nurses. I said we should have them fired too. So when I got in to see Valero and his nurse, I told them that the scheduler and I had decided they were both fired, since they're not doing their jobs.

Chemo started an hour late. Still not sure why. I was there, but my orders weren't. I like the port; that is a pretty carefree way to be hooked up to something. Slick. Doesn't hurt.

Then I reacted to one of the drugs about an hour into things. Woooooeeeee. It was kind of like what happens when Carole eats strawberries, times three or five.

They got benadryl and more steroids into me and started over. So dear Linda's three hours at chemo with Pat turned into SIX. Long day. We didn't get home until after 10, I think. We played two games of Scrabble and then watched TV. The benadryl knocked me out.

The double dose of steroids might have cost me my career yesterday when I went all postal on a conference call. Fred smoothed things over, but there are more eruptions today over my telling a bunch of salespeople that they are WRONG and don't know CRAP about branding a company. I am pretty sure I even pointed out that NO Coca-Cola distributor gets to paint his truck blue, and did they know why that was? Anyway, rough day. And I am not too popular.

Went to the gym this morning. Shana "stretched" me for a while and then we did light weights. I'm blonde today. Already feeling dumber!

I know I'm going to feel like death on a cracker starting tonight or tomorrow. At least I know there's a light at the end of that short tunnel. And as Kelly Coyner says, the SECOND one is now behind me. Only six to go!!

Hair today. Gone tomorrow.

Friday morning, after I'd washed and dried my hair, I finished it in the usual way -- running styling "mud" through it with my fingers. Handsful of hair came out. So, this afternoon, my dear husband sat me in the bathroom and shaved it off for me with his barber clippers. Now there's an intimate moment.

My hair is now about 1/16th of an inch long, except where there isn't any. I am experimenting with numerous do-rags, turbans, and scarves. Charmy sent me several that may be helpful. I'll wear wigs to work and in public so as not to frighten co-workers and children. The pirate look may be my best bet for casual wear and the gym. With a very short burr haircut, though, I look a lot like Danny Skaggs. Note to Tommy: my head is NOT shaped like yours after all. But my unadorned face is perfectly round; if it were yellow and I had black dots for eyes, I could model for Wal-Mart.

Other than that, a nice weekend. Amy Mata came from Shreveport and we talked and talked and shopped and talked and ate. Douglas, her 21 year old Rice senior, met us for dinner on Friday night and he is so, so cool. She's proud of both of her boys, for good reason.

Our big event happened when she was helping me dog-wrangle Casey home from a walk yesterday afternoon. She tripped over the very uneven sidewalks in the Montrose and went sprawling. She probably could have caught herself if she hadn't had a 55 lb dog pulling on her as she went down. She tore her slacks and skinned both knees, bunged up her hand and wrist, and landed ever-so-not-softly on her cheek on a concrete step. We are lucky her face wasn't broken, but she may have sprained a wrist. I was just sick. After dinner, as she sat on the sofa with an icepack on her face, Casey jumped up beside her and put his head in her lap. Still didn't help her bruised and scraped face, though. She was meeting old friends for brunch this morning; we sent along a photo of Casey so she could show how the thing happened. Otherwise, they might have believed something worse . . . "No, my husband and I DO get along."

Chemo #2 on Tuesday. Batten down the hatches!

Casey had a problem with the thunderstorms

Casey was worried all night about the thunderstorms. He wouldn't stay in his crate downstairs without barking, and so he slept on the big dog bed in our bedroom. But about 5 am, he woke up and just couldn't calm down. So here's where he ended up. And yes, he's asleep in that position. I love you all very much to let you see me like this. Please be charitable and cover your mouths politely when you guffaw.

Having a big day: sewing up dog toys. How about U?

Lovely warm -- low 80s -- day in Houston today. Remind me, when I start to complain about summer, how COLD I was in February. I dragged out the sewing machine and the sewing basket and have been sewing up dog toys today, but I fear they won't hold once you-know-who decides to do that death-rattle thing with them. You can almost hear his thoughts: "I'll break its neck! I'll break its neck!" At least I tried. I also cut up a comforter into dog-bed sized rectangles and sewed around the edges, so we have extra dog binkies.

But I am no Mama Lela or Auntie Myrtle. My sewing is pretty primitive. If anyone asks, I'll say Casey did it and I helped him.

I hope I'm not jinxing things, but Chuck may have found the recipe for success for wearing out the dog. He took Casey out yesterday to the vacant lot across the street, took him off the leash, and threw a stick for him for a while. He reported that Casey was much better and less kwazy on his walk after that and calmer the rest of the day. We just can't let him off the leash generally speaking, except out onto the patio, where he usually stands at the back door and complains to get back in. TODAY, Chuck took him out for stick throwing TWICE, and then I took him a third time while Chuck planted basils. Chuck and I are both upstairs now and the dog is downstairs under the kitchen table, close to unconsciousness. He usually needs to be wherever Chuck is, or if Chuck isn't home, he wants to be where I am. This is very good news. We may have a normal dog -- but again, do whatever it is you do to unjinx something.

Other good news is that this is day 11 after chemo 1, and I feel really pretty good. I'd give myself an 85% on energy/normal-feeling, maybe an 88 or a 90. My bosses have very graciously allowed me to use a couple of mornings a week to meet my trainer at the gym, and we believe doing this early in the day as opposed to trying to last until 6 pm will help with my energy levels. One annoying side effect is I think from the steroids used in the chemo. My complexion, not known for its peaches and cream tendencies anyway, is just wrecked. I look like The Last Days of Lyle Alzedo (extra points if you get the reference).

I went to the gym Thursday morning with no makeup on -- must have been frightening for everyone there -- but when I came out of the locker room, showered, made-up, wigged-up, and business-suited, dear Luis who works behind the counter said, "You look beautiful." That just made my day.

We have bartending duties at Linda Walsh's photo exhibition this afternoon at Te over on Fairview and Woodhead. After that I think we're headed to dinner with Anna and Lucy. Love to everyone. All is well.

And hi, Aunt Evelyn. You're right! A real letter is a super treat! There's one coming your way in return!

How Chemo Works, So Far . . .

Here's what I know so far. This is how I described it to Richard in an e-mail last night.

I had a wacky first week of chemo. Wednesday evening (the 28th) was drip day, and I think I may know a tiny bit what it feels like to be in Huntsville, getting poison dripped into your veins. Ick. I didn't have any adverse reactions onsite except boredom, and my friend Linda will come next time to play Scrabble with me, which should make things less dull. One thing I've learned, though: No matter how quick your step when you go into chemo (or into any other procedure where you're hooked up on IVs and stuff), you can only, ONLY shuffle when it's time to get up and go to the bathroom and you have to drag that IV post along with you. There's just no cool move in that situation. Scootch, scootch, scootch. The feet simply cannot leave the floor. Very unattractive.

And the new thing at MD Anderson, after hand-washing, which they seem to have invented and are true nazis about, is falling. I was instructed NOT to get up from the potty without calling the nurse. Apparently she loses her good parking place or something if I fall on her watch. Or else she has to continue working the night shift and to deal with people like me who ask random neural firing questions. Where are you from? Who else is here? What do you guys watch on TV? Didn't you think Lenny was much better on Law & Order than any of the replacements who've come after him? Did you remember that you have to drip in the zofran before you start the third poison drip? What about SVU? Do you know why Mariska Hargitay is famous? Who her mother was? And that she was in the car when her mother died? Important stuff like that to pass the time. And the whole deal took FOUR hours.

Anyhow, Thursday I was ok. Made it to work and was strangely buoyant, sort of. Friday went well enough and I even went to the gym for a fast turn on the treadmill. Saturday morning I woke up and felt like everyone I knew, including myself, was dead or dying. I was sad, heartbroken, and very, very, very tired. Sunday wasn't much better, although I did manage to drag myself out of bed to meet Terrell and Linda for dinner. We went as far as Te the tea shop and getting through my panini was brutal. We went back to T&L's for a gorgeous homemade chocolate cake and I cratered in the middle of it. Made it to work for three hours only on Monday, four hours on Tuesday, and SIX Wednesday. Left at 4 and went to the gym -- wore my F*ck Cancer t-shirt and made 45 minutes on the treadmill. I feel very proud. and tired. I have not been nauseated at all, but I have some heavy drugs handy to prevent that. I didn't have to take any of them yesterday, which was good, since a side effect of compazine is blurry vision. Makes the trip to work on the Southwest Freeway more interesting and a bit of a challenge, but probably not the smartest thing to do.

Tonight for dinner we had two adorable chicken pot pies that my sister Carole had made and frozen for us when she was here. Oh yum yum yum. That was food of the gods. And pretty to look at. Also easy to clean up. I refer here both to the pot pies and Carole.

I'm hoping that chemo runs at that sort of shedule: two not-so-crappy days, followed by two or two-and-a-half really crappy days, and then energy starts to return. I've learned that breakfast is a very important meal. Don't miss it or bad things happen. Next chemo is scheduled for the 20th. Bulletins as they occur.

Casey likes to look out of the window

Casey likes to drape himself over the weight bench that sits near the windowseat in Chuck's office. Then he can check out the goings-on in the street. Cars going by, people walking. He's interested in everything. Still very little in the way of discipline, though. Still thinks I'm a chew toy and that we deserve to be barked at if we are not actively petting him.

Eric and Brittany are honoring ME.

Me AND Brittany's grandmother, by participating in the Susan B. Komen run in San Antonio. Eric is my brother Tommy's baby, except now he has a wife and two children.

The whole family is listed as the team, Eric, Brittany, Hallie, AND Bear. Anyway, if you want to support them, as they support me, here's the link. http://sakomen.org/ Click on find a participant, and sponsor a Wente!!

Me as a brunette

Ok. What do you think of this hair-do? Sort of Paul McCartney, n'est-ce pas?

I've decided to return to suits. Easier to get dressed in the morning. This is a new Ann Klein, very navy and serious. The shawl Claire gave me for Christmas brightens it up and matches the purple suede pumps (also Ann Klein) that you cannot see. I did not, however, remember to shake the dog hair out of the shawl (which I had worn a lot at home during reovery) and so there was a serious problem with the suit once I got to work. Beth de-haired me, bless her.

One down; seven to go.

Long day yesterday. Had the port placement done in the morning, but they were running behind in the OR so I waited and waited. Then went over to chemo and the orders weren't in place. Finally started about 4 o'clock. Finished by 8:30, including tuna salad, a couple of episodes of "Without a Trace" and Law & Order SVU.

I'm feeling ok thus far, somewhere between loopy and jazzed. Come to think of it, that's how I usually feel. But all is well. I'm at work today and glad to be here. I miss my gang when I'm at home.

We have a new thing at home: when Chuck puts his arms around me to tell me everything is going to be ok, Casey gets in on the act. Jumps up and puts his paws on my back or Chuck's. I know if he could talk, he'd be saying, "Group Hug!"