Surprise!

Posted on September 17, 2013 by Christine

I am writing from Balgownie, a cottage in South Haven, Michigan. I’m sitting two feet from the fireplace wearing long pants, a fleece, socks and my chemo cap. I had a hot shower this morning, but only after warming my towel and clothes by the fire. It’s cold! (Last night I bought a heating blanket at Walmart so I could sleep better.)

Last July, while sitting on the beach in St. Joseph, I emailed Nancy Zmuda to see if I could “call dibbs” on a September weekend at the cottage. I usually come a couple times in the spring and in the fall, but didn’t make it up last May/June at all. I’d finally made it to a Pure Michigan beach late July. Nancy wrote back right away and said to pick a date, so I chose the weekend of September 13-15.

Shortly after that Laura wrote to see if there was a weekend for us to go to the cottage in September. She only had two available weekends: 9/6-8 or 13-15. I decided to extend my stay at the cottage to include both a family time (Thursday through Saturday) and a girls’ weekend (Sunday through Monday or Tuesday.) I invited my family and a few friends.

Temperatures soared to the high 90s earlier in the week, but the forecast for the weekend was much cooler.

On Thursday morning I was at The Dinner Club by 9 am to fix 8 meals for our 5-day stay at the cottage. By 10:30 I was on the road, car packed full and convertible top down. I drove to St. Joe’s where I stopped for lunch on the patio of one of my favorite South Michigan restaurants. From there it was a short 20 minute drive to the cottage. As soon as I unloaded the food and most of my belongings, I headed to the beach.

Laura, Kellen, Lizi and John arrived a few hours later and the fun began. We had a good meal and returned to the beach for our first beautiful sunset. My sister-in-law joined us after dark. The next day was sunny but cool. We went apple picking in the morning and spent the afternoon at the beach. Kellen started out in a long-sleeved shirt, jeans and a fleece but kept getting his clothes wet so more and more came off. Eventually he was down to his fleece and a diaper, and later even the diaper came off!

Late that night Taylor arrived. He’d been planning to drive up with Johnny who’d just arrived home from Colorado on the train. Because of the torrential rains in Colorado this week, John’s train was 3 hours late leaving Denver and a couple hours late in arriving. John had camped with his friends earlier in the week, getting soaked and chilled and by the time he arrived, he had a good cold underway. He decided to stay home and nurse the cold for a day or two before coming up.

The next morning, Laura asked if we’d babysit while she and Taylor had a date. I suggested a coffee shop in South Haven, but she wanted to go to St. Joe’s where they had a Starbucks. John suggested that we meet them later and go out for dinner. Although it was out of character for John to suggest dinner out (for 6-7 of us) and I had plenty of meals already prepared, I went along with it because everyone else seemed keen on it.

It wasn’t so easy to get me off the beach. It had finally warmed up a bit and by mid-afternoon, I finally was feeling warm for the first time since arriving (i.e. I could take off my sweatshirt on the beach.) I was really enjoying the sunshine and the beach when Connie came down and said that John didn’t want to bring Kellen to the beach and let him get all dirty so he thought we should just pack up and take him to a park before meeting Laura and Taylor. I said “no way.” I wanted to be at the beach and couldn’t understand why anyone thought it a bother to clean up a small child. Larry and Connie headed up to get ready for dinner and I said I’d be up at 4:20, ready to leave by 4:30. (Our reservations were for 6 pm.) A few minutes later, Lizi came down and said I needed to come now because they had a surprise for me. I gave in and left the beach, none too happy. On the way up, I came across John, who told me Laura had called and wanted to do family pictures at a park before dinner. I grumbled, “That’s my surprise?” I don’t even like pictures. But I went on up to the cottage to get ready.

When we got to the park, we found Laura, Taylor, Kellen and Johnny waiting. I had called Johnny to let him know our plans to meet in St. Joe’s for dinner so I was only mildly surprised to see him there. I gave him a big hug (hadn’t seen him in 5 weeks) and asked him if he drove. He told me he’d gotten Aunt Marilyn to bring him. I looked around to see where she was and he pointed in a general direction and said somewhere over there. I started looking for her to say thank you for bringing him up. (She’d planned to come up on the next day.)

As I walked away looking for her, I started noticing some familiar faces gathered in a nearby pavilion and figured out that there really was a surprise underway. Soon a group emerged and yelled “Surprise!” I smiled (and tried to figure out what exactly we could be celebrating. My 60th birthday isn’t until October!) Turns out it was a 60th Birthday/End of Chemo celebration. Laura had been planning it since early August.

Even better was the surprise of discovering friends and family from Chicago, Detroit, and even Ohio. I walked around greeting and hugging everyone, including Mari sporting new hair growth. I cried.

Laura had done a fantastic job, not only of pulling off a surprise but planning a lovely picnic on the beach. Instead of being on a date, she and Taylor had spent the afternoon claiming the pavilion, decorating and greeting the arriving guests. Taylor left to pick up the catered food that Laura had ordered. We ate, we talked, we laughed. We watched a beautiful sunset 🙂 We ended the night by taking Kellen and my two nephews on the carousel at Silver Beach and then returned to the cottage for a little

more fireside visiting.

During dinner, there were a toasts to life, to growing old gracefully, to friendship and to health. The next day I wished I’d gotten up to thank everyone for coming and given a toast to good friends and family. I missed my chance at that moment, but can add it here in my blog:

I’ve been blessed this year to have good friends and family standing with me throughout my cancer journey. From the initial diagnosis, early testing, through surgery, recovery, Disney, and months of chemo, you’ve visited, dropped off meals, sent flowers, called, written, given me rides, sat with me through chemo, visited with me by the pool and read my blogs. And now, some of you traveled to spend an evening on the beach celebrating with me. Thank you. To friends and family!

Pictures: (If they come out in order): 1. Celebrating 60 & End of Chemo; 2.Great Food 3. Gifts and 4. Fellowship ; 5.Mari toasting me. (I look grim but I think i was trying to avoid crying; 6. Me and my two brothers (I look more like them than I ever have); 7 and 8. Sunset and Pavilion pictures; 9. Kellen and Simon on the Merry-go-Round; 10.Master planner Laura and two helpers. (Notice the nice baby bump 😉

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

Posted on September 5, 2013 by Christine

Two weeks after my final chemo treatment, I am starting to feel like it is really behind me and it may be safe to make my final pronouncements on the experience.

First of all, I am grateful that my experience of chemo was not as bad as I feared nor as awful as some of the stories I read. At the top of my list, I am grateful that I never experienced mouth sores, never puked, never had to miss a treatment, and never had to have additional treatment for complications. Plus, I lost the 10 lbs I’d put on last fall. (I’d been repeatedly warned that a lot of people actually gain weight during chemotherapy. It seemed like the very least chemo could do for me was help me lose weight.) The good.

On the other side of the balance sheet, I did lose my hair. My feet (and hands) have been attacked in some really strange ways. The sides of my mouth became cracked and sore every two weeks. And I felt like crap for much of the summer. The bad.

Losing my hair was an interesting experience that in retrospect was probably good for me. It was one thing I’d hoped I’d never experience and so when I did, I learned that I could more than survive my worst fears. I found humor and even freedom in the hair loss. (It’s incredible how little time it takes to shower and get ready when you don’t have to deal with hair.) Although basically bald, I never completely lost my head hair, eyebrows and lashes and so never completely felt like I had that cancer look. (Okay, maybe I was delusional.) It seems like chemo’s parting shot was to thin my eyebrows and lashes just enough to leave me with that look, just when my tolerance for it is at its minimum.

About halfway through the first round of chemo (A/C) my feet started feeling like I was walking on hot coals. The night we picked up Anne from the airport, I could barely keep up with the others because it really hurt that much to walk. My doctor had reassured me that it was merely “foot and hand syndrome” and would go away in 2-3 weeks’ time. It did, but a week later the skin on my feet turned white and began peeling off in thick sheets. It was really weird. And then halfway through the Taxol, I started experiencing tingling in both feet and hands. This was more worrisome, indicating peripheral neuropathy, which can be either a temporary or permanent condition, causing pain, numbness, falls, etc. It worsened with each treatment after that and my hands and feel still feel tingly and numb. Fortunately, there is no pain.

My appetite tanked at the beginning of chemo but I gradually learned that I could actually eat most things (except spicy foods.) The one thing I wasn’t able to force myself to ingest was plenty of water. It tasted awful and I couldn’t make myself drink it. So every two weeks, about day 7 or 8, I’d get cracked sores on the sides of my mouth and dry lips. They would take a week or so to heal and then the round would start again. As to eating, I ate about half my normal amounts and tried to eat well. I gave up pop and most junk food and ate a lot of chicken salad, steak, and well, whatever appealed to me at the moment. Lots of days, I’d get something at lunchtime, eat half of it for lunch and the second half for dinner. Although my doctor didn’t like it, my weight crept down in spite of having this for breakfast nearly every morning:

photo-3

Quite often served in bed by my very kind husband.

But the really hard part of chemotherapy for me was probably mental: I don’t like medicines and it was really difficult to watch toxic drugs flow into my system. I’d had to have a special port placed to decrease the chances of damage to my veins. I underwent a special heart test to be sure that my heart would be able to sustain the possible damage the drugs might cause. During my first oncology visit, the doctor casually informed me that these drugs could cause leukemia. (Really? And why would I want to trade one cancer for another?) Each infusion began with a load of pre-meds to counteract a myriad of symptoms and was followed by a Neulasta injection to help my body produce enough white blood cells to keep me from succumbing to infection. The nurses giving the Adriamycin suited up in Hazmat gear (okay, I’m exaggerating a little) before injecting the “Red Devil” into my IV.

At this point I have to borrow a quote used a fellow cancer patient, Mike Hamel, in his blog titled “Oncologic Irony”:

“Cancer therapy is like beating the dog with a stick to get rid of his fleas.”

—Anna Deavere Smith

A hard lump that didn’t overly concern my gynecologist, two small round spots on an ultrasound and a post-surgical pathology report that wasn’t so good were the only signs of any illness. I realize looks and even how one feels can be deceiving, but it seems so weird to have undergone mutilating surgery and four months of chemo side effects, as well as the chance for heart damage, leukemia, lifelong neuropathy and who knows what other long-term effects, all to manage this hidden threat. It does feel a bit like we’ve beaten the dog to get rid of his fleas. Yes, ugly.

Cancer terminology is often couched in language of warfare. I’ve been told numerous times how brave I am and encouraged to see the chemotherapy as killing cancer cells, battling the disease. “Friendly fire” is a relatively new addition to the language of war, but it is very real and very disconcerting. And it is what scares me the most about chemotherapy, as well as the upcoming radiation. Based on statistics for the most part, my kind of cancer–along with the number of nodes involve–proscribed the type, length, density and frequency of chemotherapy that statistically gives me the best odds of avoiding metastasis or recurrence. (“Cure” is a relative term.) But statistics don’t help much when friendly fire maims or kills a loved one. Or when, months or years later, you discover a damaged liver or immune system or ???? caused by the chemo.

I hope I am never asked or encouraged to undergo chemotherapy again because I think I would decline. I knew from the beginning that I needed to go along with all the prescribed treatments no matter how I felt about them. And I’ve done so. But there is something in me that says, “Never again.” Not because it was so very awful, but because of the friendly fire and all that they really don’t know about chemotherapy and its long-effects.

Here I stand.*

*with the caveat that I can change my mind at any time 🙂

8 Things about August

Posted on August 29, 2013 by Christine

August is the eight month on our calendar. “Eight” became kind of a theme for the month with my 8th chemotherapy and the 8-word challenge. So here are 8 things about August:

1) August is almost over! As much as I hate watching the end of summer, this year I’m glad to say goodbye to August. It’s had plenty of blessings tucked between the hard stuff, but my overall impression is that it was a good month to leave behind. Forever.

2) In August, I became a chemo survivor. I’m going to write more about chemotherapy in a later blog once I really feel like I am out of the woods of side effects. I’m at the point where I’m starting to feel more normal but not quite. But I have survived the experience and that is something to celebrate.

3) In August, I feel like I really became a cancer patient. I don’t know if it is mental, emotional or physical, or all three, but when I look in the mirror I see a cancer patient. I think I lost a little more hair on top plus my eyebrows are thinning and my lashes are barely hanging on. I also have been less tolerant of fake hair lately (It’s hot!) so I tend to go out with only a baseball cap except for church. That covers what little hair I have so it definitely screams “cancer” in public. And lastly, I read 8-10 books about breast cancer during August, identifying more with the long term process of a cancer diagnosis and treatment. I’ll probably write more about that in a future blog as well.

4) August finally got hot! Woohoo! I know most of you don’t appreciate 90 degree days at the end of summer, but I have been so happy to have the heat come back. I spent most of the days by or in the pool, a perfect place to rest and recuperate for me. It’s been even better on the days that friends or family stopped by to share the deck or pool with me for an hour or so. Kellen has been over several times and we love sharing the pool with him.

5) I finished a major quilt project in August, plus two smaller ones. At the beginning of the month, when I was feeling discouraged and a little depressed I started trying to complete a block a day on my Dad’s quilt (3 blocks formed a row so my goal was one row a week.) It was the perfect way to get this quilt top done and enjoy the process at the same time. Each morning I’d cut the 14 strips needed for a block and throughout the day I’d sew them together. There were some blocks that took 2 days to complete, but I kept going and never got tired of the project. At the end of each week, I’d sew the three blocks together and add a new row to the quilt. The pace was perfect, not too much or too little. And I’m pleased that the top is done and that I have something to show for the month of August 🙂 I also managed to finish longarming a baby quilt, as well as putting rick rack and the binding on it. I went back to the matching quilt that I finished last spring and added the rick rack that I’d forgotten was in the original design. Pictures to follow.

6) August is/was also Back to School month. Although I ended up taking all of July and August off of work, I managed to complete some needed training so that I’m ready to go back to work in September. I finished a 3 day Telephone Triage Course required by the hospital and also some computer training on changes to our electronic medical records. I am signed up to work 6 days in September and hope to get back up to twice weekly in October. Zero-hours allows me the flexibility to complete the treatments and still work as I am able. I will probably work for another year to finish paying off my credit card and save some money for travel etc.

7) Earlier in August I crossed the halfway mark for treatment. When I was first diagnosed, one of my “complaints” was that I’d end up spending a whole year of my life dealing with even the short term effects of this. August 7 was six months from the diagnosis and it seems like a pretty good guess that this won’t be over until at least February 2014 (if then.) It’s kind of discouraging because it seems like I’ve already undergone so much. I like my triathalon metaphor but it’s really not accurate. That just covers the main events of treatment: surgery, chemo and radiation. I learned yesterday that I’ll have to wait 3-4 weeks after radiation to see how my skin looks before they can (possibly) start filling the tissue expander. That puts reconstructive surgery well into the New Year and I have no idea what kind of recovery is expected from that. Still, I’m more than halfway.

8) August was “reader response” month here at Hurnifamily.com/Piecing Life. I loved having conversations with you, from the initial request, to comments on prayer, to the 8-Word challenge. I’m going to ask ANYONE WHO HAS NOT YET WRITTEN to me to do so, just this one more time. I love knowing who is on the other side of this conversation. Please write comment below or shoot me an email if you are reading these blogs and haven’t yet told me so. [email protected] I promise not to ask again.

P.S. August has also been Johnny’s vacation month. He has been in Colorado for almost 3 weeks and has been doing well. If you’ve been praying, keep it up! He may stay for another 1-2 weeks. It’s been a good break for all of us.

Oh what a day!

Posted on August 23, 2013 by Christine

I woke up early and sewed one of my big blocks. I showered and got ready for my day, my last chemo.

The texts and e-mails I requested started last night and went through most of the day. I got a wake up email and many others throughout the day.

“I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
So glad you shared this info with us. (Followed my 8 emoticons)
You are a powerhouse! Love, Kim & Nate
Both God and quilting can be great healers.
No more chemo after today! Woooooo!!!!
I’m trusting this is your last chemo ever!!
Wake up sunshine!! It’s your last chemo day!!!
YOU CAN DO IT. IT’S THE LAST ONE!!!
Healing prayers for your mind, body and soul.
No more nasty drugs dripping into your veins.
Remember cancer is a word, not a sentence.
Giving Thanks the Lord, He has carried you through.
I love you mom. You are the best. (Johnny)
Rejoice! This day our Lord God has made.
Feet and hands covered. God has it covered.
Rejoicing! Chemo done! Prayers going up! Love you.
I am so glad we’re going through this together. (Mari)
You made it!! We’re celebrating. Farrah wants cake.
Every day, in every way [you’re] getting better.
Celebrate, thank God for the blessings around us.
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Praise to God.
Your blog has given many other people strength.
One beautiful woman, one tough fighter–Love you.
We are praying for you and your family!
One more step on the road to healing!
The mind controlled by the Spirit is…peace. (Romans 8:6)
May your healing be complete! Praise God!
Rejoicing with you and still praying for you!
Praising God! You have “worn” this season well.
This is your victory lap so ROCK IT!

There were a few other emails and comments that didn’t stick to the 8-word rule so I didn’t list them here, but enjoyed them as much. That, plus a post on Facebook by Laura and one by me brought lots of encouragement all day long. I even heard from Anne before she went to bed last night (just when I was getting up.) “Last chemo! Yay. Praise God.”

My good friend Susan came after work (around 1) and spent the last two hours with me. Then she took me out for a celebratory lunch. Lizi had wanted to come with me but it didn’t work out, so the next best thing was a celebratory dinner.

photo-5 photo-6

photo-7 The last thing on the agenda was a chemo outfit burning party. Kind of like burning your bras.

Only I decided that burning the chemo top would feel much better. It had gotten enough stains on it that I felt justified in burning it. (I saved the shoes and Lululemon capris because I like them too much.)

It’s really isn’t over but this one part is done. I’ve crossed a finish line and I may be wiped out and uncomfortable for the next few days, but it’s still something to celebrate. I also know that this is a triathalon, not a sprint or even a race. I’ve finished the short swim through surgery and the long bike ride, but I still have the run to complete.

But tonight it feels good. I’m happy for all the shared encouragement today. Thank you for your 8 words. They added up to much, much more.

As you continue to pray, my pattern has been that Friday is generally a good day. Saturday, Sunday, Monday and part of Tuesday seem to be the most difficult with myalgias, that old “crappy” feeling, weakness and general fatigue. I usually start to feel slight better by Wednesday but not normal until the weekend. By Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of the following week I feel really normal. And this time–praise God–I won’t have to go back and do it again. Hopefully “normal” will just keep getting better and better. I am experiencing some mild-moderate peripheral neuropathy that can be a temporary or permanent side effect of the Taxol. (Someone called it “Taxol Toes.”) I’m really hoping it doesn’t worsen with this round and that it gradually goes away. I like my feet for walking and my hands for quilting.

Thanks for making my day so nice.

8 Word Challenge

Posted on August 21, 2013 by Christine

As I go for my eighth–and LAST–chemo treatment, I’m going to ask you to celebrate with me by sending one more response. I’ve had so much fun with this that I want to keep it going. (It’s still August and I’m still bugging you for feedback. I promise to quit asking by the end of the month.) [email protected] or comment below.

On Thursday, August 22, I go for my last chemo infusion. I always have my I-Phone (630-740-2209) handy and thought it would be fun to get texts or emails or comments throughout the day.

But here is the challenge: Whatever you have to say needs to be 8 words long, no more, no less. Can you do it?

Here’s mine: Hallelujah! I am so glad this is over!

Mums

Posted on August 15, 2013 by Christine

I generally dislike this time of year anyways. First the stores start stocking school supplies (in July.) Then the football team starts working out in the fields behind our house. The parking lot of the high school next door starts being full at night. And then, the most telling sign is that the stores start displaying mums. (Although by mid-November I may have wished that I’d planted some because then they look nice, I absolutely hate their arrival in August.)

It means school is starting up again. Although we no longer have our lives dictated by the school schedule, it still means we can’t park in the street during the day, summer is ending, and cooler weather is coming and winter won’t be far behind. It means we’ll close the pool sooner rather than later. And this year, it means the end of chemo (woohoo!) and the beginning of radiation (bleh.)

Today I had a consultation with the radiation oncologist. I’d decided to get that done as close to home as possible, at Elmhurst Hospital. I was dismayed to learn, just a few weeks ago, that the radiation oncology department is still located at the deserted “old hospital” campus. Elmhurst built a beautiful spa-like facility on the south end of town and moved into it at the beginning of 2012. Unfortunately for us, they kept their psych unit at the old campus for a few more weeks before closing it and Johnny was admitted to it during that time. It was creepy wandering through the deserted hallways to reach the unit and the care we received there was sub-optimal. So going back to the same campus depresses me, but simply has to be done. I can’t believe I get to be among the last group of patients served there with the fancy new cancer center scheduled to open in November, after I complete my treatment. But the alternative is to drive further from home every day for 28 sessions and that seems silly.

I will have my planning session on September 19th and begin treatments on the 23rd. I will pop in there Monday through Friday for quick treatments finishing on or around Halloween. I even get to go on my 60th birthday. Nice, huh?

After completing radiation, I can then turn my attention to the reconstructive process during the months of November and December. I’m guessing the actual surgery will be just after the New Year.

In the meantime, I am recovering from chemo seven and anticipating the very last chemo next week. I am working on my Dad’s quilt and making good progress. I am completing some training I need for work and have scheduled 6 work days in the month of September. I’m making Fresh 20 dinners and reading lots of books, many of them breast cancer stories. I’m completing tests and consultations requested by my oncologist. And I’m also planning one last summer fling in South Haven in September. But I’m not shopping.

No school supplies. No mums.

On a wing and a prayer.

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Christine

Johnny left today for a vacation in Colorado. We haven’t decided yet who is really getting the vaca, him or me. (Actually, the answer is both.) He and a friend are headed out to Denver on Amtrak and on north near Roosevelt National Park. They are hoping to work on an irrigation system as well as get in some whitewater rafting, camping, hiking etc.

Trips like this are always a calculated risk, which is why I am using the phrase “on a wing and a prayer.” Although Johnny has planned and prepared for the trip, we know from experience that little things can send plans careening off course. We keep contingency plans in the back of our minds and we pray. Perhaps you would add Johnny to your prayer list for the next few weeks?

Speaking of prayer, I’ve had a lot of questions about prayer in recent weeks. In many of your responses, you mentioned your prayers for me. I’ve basked in the knowledge that many people from all around the world are praying for me, but sometimes I’ve wondered just how that works. I am not wondering how prayer produces results, as much as wondering how you folks manage to pray over the long haul. Do you pray whenever you happen to think of me? Or am I on a list that you use daily or weekly? Or, is there some other process that works well for you?

I’m asking because I’m not as consistent as I’d like when I pray for others. I’m good at the “begging” forms of prayer, when I’m worried or anxious and I want God to fix something around me. I’m even getting comfortable with proclaiming kinds of prayers, when I or someone with me needs to be drawn into God’s presence, reminded of His sovereignty, love and power. Healing prayers no longer seem uncomfortable.

But the mundane, day-in, day-out kinds of prayer elude me. I’ve got a notebook to record prayers for my family, but I forget to use it. I often lay awake at night starting to pray for my children and then get distracted. More often than not, I tell people I will pray for them, but I don’t follow through with any consistency.

So I thought maybe as part of the August response request, some of you might want to tell me what works for you (even if you’ve already written.) [email protected] I really do want to pray well. I’ve been blessed to be prayed for by so many others that I’d like to give back, honestly and faithfully.

And please, do pray for Johnny as he travels.

Two Lists

Posted on August 8, 2013 by Christine

The last three days have been SO much better. It may be because of your prayers but I think it’s because of two lists that I’ve been working on. (Or more likely, both.)

List One: Quite a few of you responded to my postscript request and wrote comments or emails identifying yourselves and quite often sharing a little bit of your stories. It’s been fun to see who’s reading the blog but also fun to have a more of a conversation with several of you. I’ve learned a bit more about a couple acquaintances and caught up with a few old friends. So I’m making a list of my blog buddies and enjoying it very much. August isn’t done and I’m not going to quit asking the rest of you to join in. Please comment or email me at: [email protected]. Thank you for the encouragement and prayers!

List Two: On Sunday night I admitted to myself that I was describing some of the symptoms of depression and decided I needed to try to actively fight it. (The last thing I want to do at this point is add another medication to my regimen.) I made a short list of some things that I needed to make myself do this week. Big things like cook a few meals (I’d gotten comfortable requesting take out more often than not); sew five seams on a quilt; finish one double row of longarm quilting; go to the Farmers’ Market; etc. I sent John to the grocery store with a Fresh 20 grocery list*.

In the morning I started assembling strips for a big block of a tartan quilt I’m making for my Dad. In April, when I started recovering from my surgery, I’d sewn horizontal strips together to prepare for this stage of the quilt. Now I started slicing those strips into vertical rows and sewing them together. I sewed five seams and kept going, completing the first big block before noon. I was a lot happier already!

That afternoon I went to Becky’s to work on the Bruce tartan that I’d wanted to send back with Anne. Within minutes of getting started, Becky said I was doing much better than last time and left me alone to work away. I finished 1-1/2 double rows, so a bit more than I hoped, but found I tired easily. I decided to quit while I was still doing well.

I went home and rested a bit and then made my first supper. Everybody liked it. A neighbor had invited me to a stamping/cardmaking party and I decided to push myself to go. I went and made some cards that were going to be sent to Nigeria to a missionary ministering to women freed from prostitution. Again, I tired easily but felt better for pushing myself a bit.

That night I slept very poorly and worried that I was going to get sick. I kicked myself for doing too much but managed to get up in the morning and make it through an 8-hour class for work without feeling any worse.

Today I checked off a visit to the Farmers’ Market; a visit with Allie, my knitting guru; and taking one of my wigs to get steamed. I made sure I spent adequate time by (and in) the pool since warm days seem to be fleeting. I made another good dinner and spent some time tonight sewing another block.

I feel well rested and happier, ready to take on chemo tomorrow.

*Fresh 20 is a menu service. For $5/month you get a weekly menu, grocery list, prep instructions and recipes. The idea is that you’ll buy 20 ingredients (besides keeping your pantry generally stocked) that will provide 5 meals and use up all the ingredients. It comes in Classic, Gluten-Free and Vegetarian varieties. Marilyn had given me three weeks’ worth of gluten-free menus to start. It was fun to try new recipes without having to think too much.

Time flies when you’re having fun…not.

Posted on August 4, 2013 by Christine

August. seems. to. be. dragging.

I can’t believe it is only August 4th. I have decided it’s because I’m not having fun.

More that any other month, August seems like “chemo” month, or maybe “chemo side effect month.” I had chemo on July 29th, but the real side effects started just about the time August began. Week one has been a week of taking Norco pretty much around the clock to stay ahead of the leg pains. The side effect of the Norco has been a lot of extra sleep, but not sleep that passes the time quickly or feels restful. Bored sleep, if that’s possible. And bored wakefulness too. I can’t seem to get into doing anything. I have all this time on my hands and no interest in any of my hobbies, food, exercise, or anything well, interesting. I’m plodding through this month. I just want to get through it and be done.

My boring life: Meds to counteract the Taxol and more meds to counteract the side effects of those meds. I know I should be grateful for all the good medications out there that can reduce nausea, pain, neutropenia, etc. I’m trying.

My next chemo is scheduled for my regular Thursday slot on August 8, only 10 days after the last one. And then I can do it all again–the Norco, the sleep, the boredom. And 14 days later, August 22, once more. (But that will be the last one and I think I’ll feel a bit more excited about reaching that milestone even with a week of side effects to go.) By the end of August, I really will be done–done with chemo and its side effects. I will be a chemo survivor!

But first I have to get through it, one day at a time.

P.S. Blogging is an interesting exercise, but as communication, it has its limitations. As much as I blog because I want to communicate information and/or share my stories, because I want to write, it still lacks the murmured “uh-huh” of conversation or real interaction with what has been shared. I’m always a little surprised (and pleased) when I meet people who comment on my blog.

This August, may I ask a favor? If you’ve read the blog, even once, would you please take the time to write me a quick email to just say who you are and maybe a bit of your story? I probably have access to IP addresses or something like that but since I’m not terribly WordPress savvy, I really don’t know how to check that. I would love to have a mental picture of you folks on the other side of this “conversation.” You can comment on the blog itself or just send me an email at [email protected]

And maybe it would help me pass the boredom of August, chemo and chemo side effects.

Reverse New Zealand Trip

Posted on July 29, 2013 by Christine

When Anne was leaving for New Zealand last September, John told her he’d rather pay for her to come home than for him to visit her in New Zealand. This was his reverse NZ trip. (I wasn’t so generous: I still want to visit her in New Zealand, though I’m not sure when that is going to happen.)

Her trip was bookended by two pleasant weekends at home. In between, she spent one week busy with her surgery (everything worked out perfectly and the news was good) `and other doctor appointments; another stressful week at home trying to be helpful; and one week traveling, visiting family and friends. Oh, and there was a bit of shopping along the way. (Here is a picture of her new glasses and make up.)

Our vacation week got off to a slow start but officially began when we reached the shores of Lake Michigan on Friday evening. We had dinner at one of my favorite lakeside restaurants and then swam and watched the sunset on the beach in St. Joe. From there we headed east to our favorite B&B (Marshalls’) in the Detroit area, arriving at midnight. We spent the weekend with Gramma & Grampa, aunts, uncles and cousins. On Sunday, I drove to Ohio to see Mari, but the rest of the family continued to enjoy family times. Anne was even able to try her hand at pottery with Aunt Connie. I returned “home” Monday and handed off the car to John and Anne. They drove to Toronto to visit Jodie and Mya, then returned west to Cambridge to see Emily and Toby, all Capernwray friends from different semesters. Before the trip, John and Anne had driven up to Wisconsin to visit two other Capernwray friends.

When I first heard that John was planning to accompany Anne on her Canadian trip, I felt jealous that he was getting to spend all that extra time with her. (But also glad because she easily overtires traveling alone.) I decided that I needed to remember that this was his reverse New Zealand trip so it was appropriate for him to enjoy the extra time with her. That made it a little easier to accept.

Saying goodbye to Luna & Me

Anne is on her way “home” now. (It was evident from the beginning that she has made a mental shift in her thinking and New Zealand is home for now.) She has had a great year so far and looks forward to returning to her ministry and friends (including James.) She is planning to be home for Christmas so we will see her in 6 months or less.

I have my “work” cut out for me for the upcoming months: Chemo on 7/29, 8/8, and 8/22. I also need to start consulting the radiation oncologist and a surgeon, as well complete a couple more tests that my doctors want. I’m hoping to take 3 days of training classes for work in August and possibly work a few days. By mid-September, I will need to begin the radiation therapy (6 weeks) and then there will be further fillings and surgeries, follow up visits, etc. I’m not sure if I’ll have finished everything by the time Anne comes home for Christmas, but the treatment phase will be done and I might even have a little bit of hair growing back.

I’m grateful for John’s reverse New Zealand trip. It’s been great having Anne home for the last few weeks.One last picture of Anne back in New Zealand. She looks happy to be home.