At least this one does. Chuck is sick, running a 99.4 elevated temp, spent the night in the loo. Poor guy. Poor me, also. We were going to San Antonio to party at my brother's house. And "party" is indeed a verb at Tom Wente's. Oh geez those people have fun. Anyway I am sorely disappointed to be staying here, probably watching Ryan Seacrest and Fergie wheel Dick Clark out right at midnight eastern.
Sigh.
Happy New Year to everyone anyhow. I think it's going to be a heckuva year.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Good News But I Cried Anyway.
This past Tuesday was my two-year mammogram. I made an "A." That means that I'm now officially a "two-year survivor." We've discussed before how much I dislike that survivor term; I prefer "unwilling participant."
Anyhow, Tuesday came and went. Happily. We had Carol and Rob for dinner and I played with my new stove like it was a Barbie doll. Also played "set the table" for a couple of hours, thoroughly pleasing myself. C & R brought gifts and good wine, as usual, and we had a lovely evening catching up with them.
Wednesday I went back to MD Anderson because I didn't have time on Tuesday to get my Zometa infusion -- this is the study drug I'm on that builds up bone density torn down by the Arimidex (the super anti-cancer oral drug that I'm on for the next three years). Zometa has also been shown to further lower the recurrence rates in HER2 cancer patients, so that's another plus. I'm on a 36-month study, infusion every three months.
I bopped up to the infusion clinic, whistling Christmas Carols, blackberry in one hand and a grande non-fat chai in the other. Got to the waiting area, sat down, surveyed all of those very sad people in various stages of illness, looked into the eyes of their anxious caregivers, heard the hushed tones of fear and worry, and burst into tears.
I was just so heartsick for all of them. I wished I could tell them that they'd be ok. I wanted to show them my hair, how pretty it is, and to tell them how hard I'd sobbed when it came out in my hands in the shower. I wanted to tell them how I'd gone hiking three weeks after finishing chemo and how hilarious it was that I was immune to the swarms of mountain mosquitos, and how hilarious it wasn't that I almost didn't make it down the mountain. But I did make it down the mountain, and I wanted them to know that. I thought maybe it would help. Or maybe not.
I finally called my brother to tell him my good news from the previous day, and got myself straightened up during the call. I also told him that there is a big New Year's Eve party at his house again this year, even though he hasn't yet extended an invitation to any of us. Stacy and I have already decided we're going, so he and Cheryl need to get ready.
Merry Christmas everyone. If you read this blog, you are part of the reason I celebrate this year.
Anyhow, Tuesday came and went. Happily. We had Carol and Rob for dinner and I played with my new stove like it was a Barbie doll. Also played "set the table" for a couple of hours, thoroughly pleasing myself. C & R brought gifts and good wine, as usual, and we had a lovely evening catching up with them.
Wednesday I went back to MD Anderson because I didn't have time on Tuesday to get my Zometa infusion -- this is the study drug I'm on that builds up bone density torn down by the Arimidex (the super anti-cancer oral drug that I'm on for the next three years). Zometa has also been shown to further lower the recurrence rates in HER2 cancer patients, so that's another plus. I'm on a 36-month study, infusion every three months.
I bopped up to the infusion clinic, whistling Christmas Carols, blackberry in one hand and a grande non-fat chai in the other. Got to the waiting area, sat down, surveyed all of those very sad people in various stages of illness, looked into the eyes of their anxious caregivers, heard the hushed tones of fear and worry, and burst into tears.
I was just so heartsick for all of them. I wished I could tell them that they'd be ok. I wanted to show them my hair, how pretty it is, and to tell them how hard I'd sobbed when it came out in my hands in the shower. I wanted to tell them how I'd gone hiking three weeks after finishing chemo and how hilarious it was that I was immune to the swarms of mountain mosquitos, and how hilarious it wasn't that I almost didn't make it down the mountain. But I did make it down the mountain, and I wanted them to know that. I thought maybe it would help. Or maybe not.
I finally called my brother to tell him my good news from the previous day, and got myself straightened up during the call. I also told him that there is a big New Year's Eve party at his house again this year, even though he hasn't yet extended an invitation to any of us. Stacy and I have already decided we're going, so he and Cheryl need to get ready.
Merry Christmas everyone. If you read this blog, you are part of the reason I celebrate this year.
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