Claire and Casey

Posing for the camera!

It's a Wrap!

CHEMO CAN KISS IT!! (Thanks to Beth Rutherford for his fantastic photo of my own personal a**. Honest. This is mine. Really.

Last chemo session yesterday! All done with that crap. I still have six months of another infusion therapy (something every three-ish weeks), but it doesn't take all day and I don't get sick or anything. AND MY HAIR WILL GROW BACK!!

Reconstructive surgery is tentatively scheduled for the end of August. The good news is I'm going to have a great new set. The bad news is that I start on an anti-estrogen oral med in three weeks, so you may not be able to see the cha-chas for the beard. Oh, well. Hooters' parties will be announced.

Yesterday WAS a great day, all in all. Claire was my co-pilot and chemo buddy ALL DAY. We left the house at 7:30 and got home about a quarter to six. She also served as pack mule and gopher and did an outstanding job. I think she was also good luck -- the day went very smoothly, no untoward delays or anything. Chemo was running late but they usually are. But the orders were in and they were right and I got the nurse I like best.

How wonderful it was to have Claire with me, and I'm very grateful to have such a fabulous young woman as my part-time daughter. I always have considered myself lucky that her mother was so generous to share with me, and she continues to be a very bright star in my very full life. Her dad likes her, too.

And today of course I feel ok. A little tired but nothing dreadful yet. That's scheduled for Friday through Sunday, if things run true to form.

Thanks to all of my chemo buddies and cheerleaders for getting me this far. When I think about the possessions I treasure most, #1 on the list is the love of my family and friends.

More later!!

Doggie Porn

How do ya like me now?

My friend Patricia came to visit!

We had a really good time. This photo was taken after Casey had snatched the bandanna off my head while I was wrestling on the floor with him. He was very proud of himself and wouldn't give it back to me. While I was upstairs finding another one for me, Chuck tied Casey's trophy around his neck. Then Trisha put one on so we'd all match.

Other People Are Stupid Over Their Dogs Too

My friend Greg Mader and his wife Arlene are goofy about Frances, their Rhodesian ridgeback. She simply would NOT stop peeing on the carpeting, so THEY REPLACED THE DOWNSTAIRS CARPETING WITH TILE, and even chose a special, more expensive grout that wouldn't show dog-pee stains. Frances has now taken to going upstairs to pee; and even though they have BOUGHT HER SPECIAL RUGS TO PEE ON, she continues to move them around and pee wherever she wants. Now they are considering REMODELING options that might keep Frances downstairs.



Therefore, I don't feel so bad about posting these photos of Casey. We took him and the camera down to the bayou to let him romp in the big post-rain puddles a couple of weeks ago. (Be sure and click on these so you can see them full size. I just love his face in these action shots.)
He played with a dog named Beau, and they had a terrific time. When we got back from the bayou, we took him out on the patio and gave him a bath. It was only after we'd finished that we realized we'd locked ourselves out. We had no shoes, no keys, no way to get out of the gate -- just a dog and some shampoo. We also had a rock, which Chuck used to break the kitchen window. Sigh.

Pharmacology Roulette or, Three Days on Diuretics

Chemo #5 came and went on Thursday, May 24. I waited for the inevitable slump and it happened on schedule, the evening of day two following chemo. Unfortunately it hit when we were sitting at Cafe Express Saturday evening with Linda and Terrell after having seen Avenue Montaigne. A darling movie it was, but I was longing to get horizontal all of a sudden and said grumpily, "We have to go walk the dog."

So, we scrambled out of our booth and T&L took us home. I headed to bed and Chuck took Casey out.

I felt like hell, predictably, on Sunday, and on Monday, too, the Memorial Day holiday. But late that evening, I knew I would start to feel better. I didn't. At all.

Tuesday morning was awwwwwwfullll. Previous chemos hadn't felt like this. Lying down was exhausting, and I couldn't stand up for more than a few minutes. Sitting was no help. I was supposed to be back at work, but I was too tired to cry. I even threw up once, and I was really depressed and worried that I was having chemo symptoms from hell.

Then I called the nurses, because Chuck had pointed out that the difference between this chemo and the last one was the diuretic I'd been put on by Dr. Fighter Pilot. I had complained mightily about my puffy feet and ankles and the astonishing weight gain over the previous couple of weeks, so he wrote a scrip for the diuretic. I had started taking it on Friday night.

The good news was that nearly 9 lbs had fallen off of me, but I still felt like I was going to have to get better in order to die.

Long story short: the diuretic had been "parting the Red Sea" strength and had sucked all of the potassium out of me. My blood urea nitrogen levels were elevated, which is what happens when your kidneys aren't working right. Man. That was nasty.

I stopped taking the diuretic and got better in 24 hours. Made it to work for part of the day Friday and was pretty ok by Saturday afternoon.

So, make a note. If you get prescribed a diuretic and you suddenly start feeling like you're having the worst flu ever, CALL THE DOCTOR.