It was a good trip.

Going for an overnight trip to Half Moon Bay was a really good idea. It was soooo beautiful, and the time with Eric was very, very, nice. We didn't have to drive & drive to get there, either -- it's less than an hour away. Perfect!

When we arrived on Saturday it was cold and grey and a bit drizzly. That totally didn't matter. It was still gorgeous, and walking on the beach on a blustery day is still one of my favorite things (even if I rarely do so). After a late afternoon siesta we walked downtown, and then had a lovely dinner.

Today was bright and sunny, with blue skies. We walked on the beach in the morning, had a delicious brunch (I had brioche french toast stuffed with marsipone, with applewood smoked bacon) on main street, then drove up into the hills to a nature preserve, where we walked among redwoods and wildflowers, next to a rushing river.

This whole trip was delightful, and it served to remind us of all the things we still can do, despite the weight and worry of cancer.

Here are a few more pictures from the weekend:


It's a quaint town, but there aren't too many purveyors of potpourri.




This was when it was was chilly, when we first arrived. Isn't he cute?




There was lots o' horseback riding on the beach in Half Moon Bay.




It really was beautiful.






Today it was bright and sunny.




Most of the redwoods were 2nd growth -- the area has been heavily logged.

Update from Half Moon Bay

Here are a few pics from our walk this afternoon:















Here I am looking at Eric.

We're getting ready to go for a walk downtown, then to dinner at Pasta Moon. It's been a nice day.

Weekend

We have a nice weekend planned. On Saturday we're going to SF-MOMA to see the Calder exhibit, then we're driving to Half Moon Bay, and spending the night there. It will be good to get away.

Any weekend with Eric is a good weekend for me.

Nutshell

Medical decisions are difficult to make when all paths come to the same end, The End, and all bad things come in time. Women take many different approaches, and I'm not sure that one is fundamentally better than the next.

Some women refuse to talk about quality of life (qol) until their qol has more or less slipped away. They don't want to be "kept comfortable". They want to throw everything medical science has at what they sometimes describe as "The Beast". They will suffer any side effect or indignity... just let them be doing something.

Women with young children are particularly inclined to the above. Very often they have a goal of staying alive until their youngest is out of highschool.

Some women eschew medical care as much as possible, but lean toward herbal remedies, dietary changes, or a combination of positive thinking and denial.

And I just want to live as long as possible while still being able to have fun. I think that's it in a nutshell for me.

The scans say that there's growth of the nodules in my lungs. This is unfortunate, because two onocologists have said and one has implied that the scattered specks that have shown in scans may or may not have been metastatic disease. There was reason to believe that my disease was merely bony, which makes a big difference in length of survival.

In a field scattered with landmines of maybes, my life expectancy (such as it is) maybe was just cut in half. Or not. As always, there's no way to know anything, except that I'm ultimately fucked.

I don't know what I'm going to do, but I suspect that I'll do very little, for now.

And unless he or she has been diagnosed with a stage IV cancer, I'm not particularly interested in anyone's opinion about "next steps".

(Although I know that most folks don't have opinions as much as they have concerns. I think it sucks, too. And as usual, there's really nothing to say.)

Sleepy

I went back to bed shortly after writing the last post... and slept until the alarm clock rang. I guess that my birthday party tired me out more than I had thought, since I got fourteen and a half hours sleep on Monday night and still woke up tired!

Last night I went to mosaics class, which was fun. This morning I'm at work, tired but enjoying a nice latte.

Wee Hours

I was home from work at 4:00 PM yesterday, and in bed by 4:10 PM. I slept like a rock until about 15 minutes ago. So... not it's one in the morning and I've had a solid 8 hours of sleep. I think I'll be able to go back to sleep soon, though.

So Tired

I had a really nice birthday. Eric and I laughed with our friends, which was really, really nice... and the party wasn't as much work for Eric as some of our other shindigs.

It didn't do anything particularly energetic. I ate pizza, drank wine, and told stories. Still, I was exhausted -- probably because I was coming off such a tough week. Just a few days earlier I had 1. been informed that my treatment had failed and 2. been immobilized by pain.

All of our houseguests were gone before noon on Sunday, but I still didn't seem to recover yesterday. I didn't recover yesterday, and I tossed and turned all night, partially from discomfort, and partially from the residule effect from a bit of emotional hooey from the day before.

Now I'm at work but I wish I were still in bed.

One last thought

I stayed up much later than I anticipated.

Have I said before that Eric makes everything better? Eric makes everything better. He can't make it perfect, although he would if he could. He makes the hardest days easier, though (and the easy days dreamy).

Yawn

I drank the barium shake and had the ct scan done. Then I picked up a latte and went to work. Here I am, working, and totally worn out. I'm looking forward to sleeping tonight. I may go to bed at 8:00 o'clock.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and we're having a pizza party at my house -- a few friends and a few pizzas and a few glasses of wine. Simple and nice. I'm looking forward to it.

Hmph.

I'm getting another scan tomorrow, a ct scan, which means that I can't have any coffee in the morning. It's such a horrible thought. It makes me want to cry. I want to shake an angry fist at God. Not having a cup of coffee tomorrow morning isn't going to add years, days, or minutes to my life, but I still can't have any. It's really got me mad.

After the scan I guess I'll go to work.

This week hasn't been so hot.

Thursday Morning

Home today and getting a bone scan -- I just had an injection of radioactive isotopes. Feeling much, much, better. I'm grateful for that!

Ow and then some.

It's been all about pain today.  Having pain is like wearing blinders... there's nothing but pain.  I have a high tolerance, but today it was bad.  I took narcotics and went to work.  Agony. After a few hours I asked Eric to take me home.  More narcotics, more agony, and no position that would relieve the pain in my spine even a little bit.

 

Eric spoke with my oncologist through my caseworker.  We upped the narcotics (to 4x's the original amount I was taking), added ibuprofen, and have had the scheduling of the scans expediated.

 

Now I'm in a narcotic fog, but the pain is just a dream in the background that swells and subsides.  This is a good, good, thing.

 

It's getting to be impossible to predict what the next day will bring around here.  I hope it's something good.

Ow.

Boy, am I in pain. At first I thought it was the mind/body connection -- my pain spiked as I left the oncologist's office with bad news. BUT... I've calmed down some, and the pain is still there, filling up my senses but not in a good John Denver kinda way.

I took half a dilaudid last night and went to my mosaics class with Janis. That was nice. Good to focus on something other than ouches and endgames.

Driving to work this morning with Eric I had to ask him if I have a horrible life. I knew the answer was no, but I wanted to hear him say it. Sure enough, I don't have a horrible life. He listed the goodness, and rightfully named hisownself first. Wonderful friends, a home I love, a job that's flexible and enjoyable... all of that.

I'm tentatively opening one eye, just a little squinty bit, and looking at chemotherapy. I've not wanted to think about it, and so I haven't, due to my highly developed abilility to ignore what I want to ignore (a device from earlier, crazier, days that still comes in handy now & then).

I need to get right with the idea. I can't imagine doing it without embracing it somehow. This thing is: it could work. I need to understand what "working" means. That would be a good place to start.

Cancer still sucks.

I wrote to Lisa this morning that I was "cautiously pessimistic" about this afternoon's appointment with my oncologist. I should have thrown caution to the wind. The doctor confirmed that my tumor markers have risen, and the markers coupled with what he calls my internal sense of how things are going indicate that I have failed this treatment regimen.

Likeliest scenario: I'll schedule a bone scan, and a ct scan, be officially "restaged" and move on to chemotherapy.

Small Possibility: The bone and ct scans show minimal progression, and I make one last ditch effort to pursue a different hormonal treatment. (It's a SMALL possibility)

Very Small possibility: The bone scan and ct scans don't correlate with the tumor markers and my internal sense. Treatment stays the same.

I wanted to stay on hormonal treatments for years and years. The women I know who have lived for many years are the ones who are responsive to those treatments.

It's impossible to know. I figure this means I'll die sooner rather than later. I just don't know.

Here's the funny thing (weird, not haha). I walked into the doctor's appointment, and I limped out.

Now my body's in chaos. I can barely move... I walk with a shuffle and breathing hurts. It must be that mind/body connection, which would all be very interesting if I were observing it in someone else.

I took a flexiril and slept all evening. Now I'm a wake and spinning scenarios.

I don't want anyone to say anything nice. I just hate this. I hate it. I hate it. I'm scared.

V

Vacation's Over

Spring break is over, and I'm back at work. My desk isn't too bad. One of the nice things about being on vacation from a job at a school district is that (unlike other jobs) the work doesn't pile up while you're away. The joint pretty much shuts down, and there's little work accumulation.

I've been quiet lately. I haven't been returning emails or phone calls in a timely manner (if at all) and I've been a blog minimalist. I haven't been in pain, or upset, or depressed. In the absence of information about me, the people who love me sometimes assume that I'm in pain, or upset, or depressed.

I've written in the past about what it's like to consciously carry the knowledge that I'm dying. Everyone's dying, of course -- and everyone could hold that knowledge close to their hearts, but I don't think many do. I don't see why they would. There's nothing truly valuable in living each day like it's the last. I think it's much better to live like you're going to live forever.

I've said it all before.

I'm just cruising along, with nothing much to say, feeling pretty good and waiting for things to get worse.

I have an appointment with my oncologist this afternoon to assess my current treatment plan. Perhaps there'll be some happy surprise in there. That would be nice.

I am Risen!

I didn't get up until 9:00 AM this morning -- quite a late resurrection for me this Easter morning.

I've been stacking up my Easter memories like poker chips and playing with them to judge their height. It's a paltry stack.

As a kid, of course, I loved the holiday because Easter = candy. My memories of Easter (in chronological order) are:

1. Dying Easter eggs and decorating them w/ little decals.

2. My mother complaining about all the Easter basket grass everywhere.

3. Having a screaming, crying, fit because Paul and Mark received chocolate Easter bunnies and I got a chocolate Easter something-else. The boys worked me into a frenzy about this, then disavowed all knowledge when I cried. Eventually my mother threw my chocolate something-else into the trash.

4. Mary making my Easter basket one year -- it was super-deluxe, and included both candy and extra special stuff like lip gloss and small stuffed animals!

5. Being given a very nice basket made of chocolate with extra fancy chocolates inside, and the dog, Charlie (who was getting to be quite old) eating the entire thing. (Not typical Charlie behavior, I can tell you.)

6. Dying Easter eggs black with Mark and Paul as teenagers/young adults. Being told by our mother that we were devil worshippers. Laughing.

7. Years and years of happy Easter mornings with Eric. And finally...

8. Making a bunny cake from scratch. Pennie saying: That was a YELLOW cake?

Home

The Atlantis Casino and Resort was swell -- we were there for four nights, and I was reluctant to leave this afternoon.  I enjoy Eric's company soooo much, and we had a happy, relaxed vacation.

 

Now we're home, and that's nice, too.

The Atlantis Casino and Resort

It's nice here.  We've been gambling.  Eric ate sushi.  I'm looking forward to a late night snack.  Vacation is good.

 

Last night Tom came over and we had a nice, Sunday-ish dinner... brisket and carrots and potatoes and asparagus and red wine.  That was also very nice.

 

Before we drove here this morning we went to Kaiser and I had blood drawn.  There's some hope riding along in those little (not little enough, actually) vials.  I want the folks in white lab coats to tell me that my tumor markers are down.

 

But for now we don't know, and we're just relaxing at the Atlantis, enjoying spring break, hoping for the best.

Spring Break

This is the last day of work before spring break. It's busy, for sure, but who cares? After today I have nine days off in a row -- NINE of 'em -- and that's a bee you tea full thing.

I have an appointment with my oncologist on the Monday after spring break. He'll review the results of my bloodwork (tell me if my tumor markers are up or down), ask me a few questions about my aches & pains, and then recommend one or more scans.

That's what happens a week from Monday. But after 4:30 PM today, my time's my own until then.

Day of Rest

I haven't been blogging much lately on accounta I haven't had much to say. Things have been quiet, which I recognize as a blessing.

One time I had an argument with someone who tried to curse me by wishing me a dull life. I thought: I should be so lucky!

For several years my life was choke full o' excitement, what with family members dying off, and dealing with the fall out from my own bad choices.

You've heard the story before. And then came Eric....

And then came Eric. It's true.

Last night, post-infusion (they only stuck me twice trying to find a vein, but the nurse who gave me the shot with the giant needle did say that the first time she saw it she nearly fainted), post-American Idol results (which just confirms my worst thoughts about Americans), post-phone call with Tom (who has his own opinions re: American Idol)... after all of that ...

I tried to tell Eric how much I love him, and what I'd do in order to be near him. I told him that to be with him I'd trade the memory of every happy summer I'd ever had.

And Eric said, "Don't borrow trouble! That's ridiculous! No one's going to take any happy summer days from you, and you don't have to give up anything to be near me!"

Ha! He makes me laugh. I do love him so.

Workweek 10 (in the count down 'til summer)

Our weekend was quiet.  We went to a play on Saturday night -- Bright Ideas at the Ashby Stage -- but beyond that was our only real activity.  Eric was busier than I.  He did lots o' things... went for a walk at the beach, did the grocery shopping, and spent about five hours on Sunday grading homework.

 

Me?  I played computer games and napped.

 

Today is the fiftieth workday before summer vacation, and the last week before spring break. 

 

Today after work I need to go have blood drawn, but that shouldn't be a big deal. (As a "poor me" aside, I would like it very much they didn't complain about my veins.  I drink water all day long... I do what I can.  Beyond that I have no control over the state o' my veins.  I wonder if the drawers of blood believe that it's harder for them to have to poke around for a "good" vein, or harder for me to have to sit there with a mild expression while they sigh and stab)?

 

Tomorrow I have a scoliosis screening a middle school.  I'll spend my entire work day in the presence of several hundred half-naked teenagers (one at a time, of course), and then after work I have the first 2.5 hour session of my new mosaics class, which I'm taking with Janis. 

 

Wednesday is Infusion & Injection Day, and Thurday is Fever Day. And Friday is Thank God Spring Break Starts Tomorrow Day.

 

Clearly this week is a mixed bag, but I'm sure I'll have some fun each day.