Final Chemo!

It's a good day: the last infusion is behind me. I've finished the course of treatment that loomed so large when they first told me about it back in March. At that time 18 weeks felt like forever. Now I've made it through! 

Now I'll just wait to regain my strength....and if all goes well, I'll be getting on a plane to Aruba three weeks from tomorrow. My doctor authorized Covid tests for me before/after the trip and they'll even check my white blood cell count a few days before I go to see if I need a boost. They are doing whatever they can in support of this trip, knowing how important it is to me. It truly is the light at the end of the tunnel...and will be the best way to take my mind off things during the six week waiting period to find out the final results of the chemo's effectiveness. I already have a Petscan scheduled a few days after I return home.

I've tried to describe this experience the best I can, but words don't really do it justice. I feel like a wobbly rock climber reaching for solid ground but finding that most handholds and footholds that I thought would be steady are themselves wobbly during this crazy time. Making it hard to trust anything. Like, that this could actually be coming to an end. Or that I could truly be swimming in the Caribbean Sea with Han in a few weeks. 

On the other hand, it has made the things I can count on to solidly be there feel extra precious: which is namely the love and support of my mom, Han, Zack, Aidan, Eli, and Isabel...and so many of you reading this. 

Thank you so much for being a part of my support team and contributing ground during such a groundless time...with your caring energy, thoughts, prayers, messages, cards, calls, groceries, meals, gifts, flowers, offers of help...and your steady reminders that I'm not alone in this. I will never forget it! ❤️

Chemo #5 and Getting Busy Living

Yesterday was my 5th chemo infusion. 5 down, one to go!

Each time I go in, I meet with my oncologist, Dr. Wilfong, for an exam and to go over the bloodwork. If the numbers aren't good enough they would cancel the infusion. My numbers were "good enough" but even though I think my body is handling this really well, it's interesting to see the downward graph of some of my white and red blood cell counts. This explains the heavy sense of fatigue I'm feeling more and more as time goes by. I've termed this feeling "loggy" as the best way to describe it. It's a kind of tired that sleep doesn't help. I've learned that this is a totally normal reaction to the chemo.

We also looked ahead at what's coming next for the first time. After my final infusion on July 30th(!), they want to wait six weeks to do another PETscan. If all goes as hoped, it may very well be followed by 3 weeks of daily radiation for added insurance that all the cancer cells are gone. If it doesn't go as hoped, we will have more to talk about. He is very optimistic but it still feels scary to even have to think of that kind of idea. And that is the hardest part of having cancer. There is no guarantee that if you follow all the rules or do things "just right" that all will be well. What a challenging thing to learn to live with--and so many people have to do just that. But, until I know more, I am going to go with the idea that my body is continuing to heal in remarkable ways.

I am so happy that he is still very supportive of me taking a three week trip out of the country. He is a doctor who focuses on the whole person and I really appreciate that. Everything is a calculated risk and his support means a lot. He said the timing is perfect as I leave three weeks after my last treatment (when I should have my strength back) and come home right in time for the follow up testing. 

On that note, Han and I have had to find a back up plan due to Iceland joining the EU in not allowing American visitors in due to our high rate of Covid. This caused such disappointment but we've now totally switched course and will be meeting in: Aruba! Where there is a will, there is a way! He'll feel right at home since it is a Dutch island where he will be able to speak with ease! It is one of the only countries welcoming Americans right now and they have a layered entry process which includes submitting a negative covid test and registering where you'll be staying. We will be staying here for the entire three weeks...so you can imagine our excitement! Who knew, that along with all the @#!%, this unexpected detour would bring this kind of beauty and happy anticipation?!

In other news...I'm home alone for the next couple weeks. After three months(!) of being here right when we needed him most, the time felt right and Zack departed last weekend. He camped along the coast for five nights and has safely arrived in Long Beach, CA. to spend time with his dad and Isabel. He still doesn't have word on his new start date but now he'll be a little closer when that time comes. It was super hard to say goodbye but at the same time, we are so grateful for the unexpected time we had with him! He left on Sunday and Mom took off on Thursday for her big road trip with (my brother) Eric and (his 15 year old daughter), Chelsea. Three generations driving a camper down the coast...right behind Zack! I'm so happy for them all and it's fun to hear their progress reports as they go.

 

They're taking the same route, with very different accommodations-

both look like so much fun!

So, it's a big change around here. After months of necessary nesting, there is a shift toward LIFE, MOVEMENT, and CONNECTION. Growth in the midst of all that we're going through feels so life affirming and of extra importance right now. Even now...maybe especially now...with the heavy fog of the pandemic adding layers of fear to all we do. If we've been reminded of anything it is that there is no time to waste. As a friend of mine who went through her own cancer scare said often: it comes down to a choice to "get busy LIVING". And that is what we are all doing. The shift feels-and is-pronounced and real. 

A special message left by a slug(!) on our deck the other night!

I think it's a pretty clear sign.

Until next time, take good care, All.

❤️

An Arm and Reunion(!) Update

I am so happy to be able to share more good news today. 

I met with my orthopedic specialist this morning for my eight week check on my arm and he said it is healing really well. The X-rays showed a huge difference in the calcification of the breaks. So much so, that he said I no longer need to wear the compression brace that I've been wearing 24 hours/day for the last two months. They had predicted it would take 12 weeks to get to this point, so it feels like a wonderful gift to be ahead of schedule.

Thank you, Erin, for the gift of our own pot of African Daisies. They spark so much joy!

I'm also (even more) excited to share that Han and I have booked our reunion, with my oncologist's blessing. Since both of our countries are closed to each other, we're having to be creative. A few weeks after my last infusion, we will fly to meet each other in Iceland! They are being super careful with visitors, testing everyone for Covid upon arrival. We have our campervan rented and just knowing this is coming up makes all the difference! 

UPDATE: As of July 1st, Iceland has joined the rest of the EU in holding off on welcoming Americans due to our high rates of Covid. This new guideline will be re-evaluated every two weeks. Han and I are hopeful that in the next seven weeks, things will change and the trip will still work out but are having to accept that it may not. Not knowing is not easy. Back to “trusting the process”. Feeling like we’re being forced into a Masterclass on this subject right now.

Thank goodness for video chatting:
 helping us us feel close during these unexpected months apart!

The light at the end of the tunnel has definitely been growing brighter and brighter. Feeling so, so grateful today!❤️❤️❤️

Chemo #4, Good News, and Mother Nature in all her Glory

The "Tree of Life" adapting and thriving under adverse circumstances.

Chemo #4 is complete. Four down two to go! Although I'm already feeling the effects, which is a surprise as it has usually taken a couple days, I couldn't be happier. I had wonderful news from my oncologist.

The MRI result, from the scan yesterday, showed that my body is responding "remarkably" to the chemotherapy. The mass in my arm has shrunk a significant degree for only three treatments. He was very positive.

Of course, this is what I was dreaming of hearing!

The MRI itself was really rough. I was in that tube for such a long time. They kept doing test after test. For anyone who has ever had one you know that is is very loud and claustrophobic in there. I was in there for almost an hour. While I'm usually able to keep a pretty positive mindset about this whole situation, the waves of fear hit pretty hard last night. I wondered if they had to take so long because they were seeing something unusual. I had to really work with the "what if's". There was a feeling of needing to brace myself. 

Now, the good news feels so freeing: like I can breath deeper than I've been able to in a long time.

This is the end to a beautiful week. When I heard Lake Quinault Lodge was opening up once again for visitors, I jumped at the chance to have a little getaway and purposely planned it for this week. I knew an infusion of nature and beauty would be so powerful at this midway point...and it was. My brother, Eric, came over and had special time with Mom, while Zack, Eli, and I made the three hour drive west to one of our country’s most beautiful national parks.

The weather report predicted 100% chance of rain. I thought about cancelling our plans. I'm so glad I didn't. We seemed to be following the sun...with only a few drizzles thrown in while we were on this "Maple Grove Rain Forest" hike. But, the trees protected us from the rain anyway. When it did rain hard, we were tucked in our room and it was a beautiful thing to watch.

These ferns are so giant: you can barely see Zack walking in the trail that winds through them!

I contemplated this thought a lot on the walk. How easy it is to worry about the "weather" in advance. What a useless exercise it usually is. How when you're actually out there, it's not half as bad as expected and when it is bad, you find ways to deal with it. And mostly, how much we would've missed out on if I'd cancelled the trip as a precaution.

This looks like a reflection in the pond...but mostly it's looking into the pond itself: it is so clear, you can see all these plants growing there. It is amazing.

This trail also led to an old farmstead.

Then back again through the forest, where Zack and Eli were deep in conversation against this otherworldly backdrop.

Zack's angle-with me in it! Doesn't it look like dinosaurs would be right at home? I bet they were!

We spent two nights at Lake Quinault Lodge, built in 1927. Such a restful place to recharge and a great base for exploring this area.

We stayed in the old "boat house" on the left in the photo above.

The Pacific Ocean is a 40 minute (beautiful) drive from here. I had a mission to return all the seashells I've collected over the years back to the sea. I couldn't bear to think of them sitting in a storage unit.

Zack climbed this volcanic rock (barefoot) to the far side, took our giant bag of shells and gave them back to the sea.

From inside the "Tree of Life" shown in the first photo.

We also discovered some really special giant trees while we were here.

We happened upon this super big and old Cedar.

And the "World's Largest Spruce"!

I have a favorite prayer/poem I think of all the time. And now with the good news from the doctor, I am feeling it with every fiber of my being:

Till next time, All.

 Thanks so much for your continued love and support!

❤️

Another Week Down

Just a little update to share that my 3rd chemo treatment was uneventful. The nurses are really nice. Although I would love to retrain them on asking, "How are you?!" in their chipper voices as they access my port and hook me up for CHEMO(!). I know it's just such a rote question...but it seems particularly tone deaf in that setting. So, little areas like that (clearly) still feel raw.🙈

Lake Wilderness, Maple Valley

I am finding myself adjusting to the rhythm of it all. Knowing what to expect and that it will pass is huge. This week, I've given in with lots of rest when I'm not feeling great...and Zack and I have gotten out for some nice walks when I've had the energy. It comes in waves...and I'm riding them the best I can.

It's a strange feeling going out with this new "look". I feel exposed and vulnerable. It has made me realize how much I've taken for granted just "blending in" as some sort of armor in the world. I know the more I do it, the easier it will get. Another: no way around, only through kind of thing. It will forever give me more empathy for others who feel this way for one reason or another.

Gene Coulon Memorial Beach Park, Renton

The midway MRI scan has been scheduled for June 18th (the day before my next infusion). I wish it was sooner as I'm anxious for confirmation that my body is healing right on track. It really forces me to stay in the present moment, more than I ever have before. 

Still no word on when Zack will have to leave. We're in no hurry to get that news!

I also want to share the blog I've been keeping up for Mom, for those wanting to check in on her updates: Gail's Progress Reports. We have our own little support group going on here. I think we're both stronger during this time because we want to be there for the other. Funny how that works. 

So thankful for the steady stream of beautiful flowers that have been brightening up our days!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Till next week....love to you all!