Three Down

You know that part towards the end of Evita, after Eva has been waltzing with Che, where she says 

"What is the good of the strongest heart

in a body that's falling apart?

A serious flaw, I hope You know that" ?

I can't tell you the number of times I have sung that to myself over the last few months.


Despite the positivity from my last post, this past week was incredibly difficult.  I started the week tired and it didn't get any better from there.  Treatment # 3 was on Tuesday - I basically slept the entire time at the infusion center and didn't really get off the couch for any extended period of time until Saturday.  I am just worn out at a level I have never experienced before.

The physical fatigue is one thing to handle.  The emotional exhaustion is another.

We got a bit of bad news before treatment - two of my liver enzymes are high, which is a sign that my liver is struggling.  My ALT level was slightly elevated before the second cycle and was even higher this time, and my AST level was high this time as well.  My doctor said that while they weren't high enough to delay this past treatment, we have to keep a close eye on it and might have to push the next treatment back to give my liver time to recover.  I have a PET scan scheduled for the 28th to check our progress, and we will discuss the results from that as well as any adjustments to my treatment schedule at my next visit on the 2nd.  I always knew that the schedule was only tentative, but this still feels like a set back.

Adding to that frustration, I wasn't able to make it to my step-sister-in-law's college graduation this weekend.  And in the next few weeks, there are more life events that I know I will have to miss:  retirement parties, baby showers.  And it's hard to miss out on all of the routine things too - the everyday conversations and shared experiences that I am left out of because I am physically or emotionally not in a state to participate in life outside of my house.

And to top it off, I came to the realization last night that we are probably going to have to postpone our trip to London.

I think that I am running dangerously low on optimism.

It's been a week full of grief.  Of feeling alone and disappointed.  Of trying to come to terms with the planned life that has been taken away - again.  Of trying to adjust expectations - again.  And I can't say that I've made a whole lot of progress, except to recognize that I still have a lot of grieving to do.


Halfway done ... I hope.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

There are two reasons for today's post title.

First, the literal reason:

THIS FINALLY HAPPENED!  We have lived in this house for 3 years now, and every time we were going to start tackling the landscaping (the fact that there was none), something else would take priority or some other life event would interfere.  All winter, we were planning that we would get the front of the house planted this spring ... and then it seemed like we would be putting it off yet again.

But after I felt well at the end of the first cycle, I was hopeful that we would still be able to make this work.  I made sure to have my plant list ready so that we could get started as soon as I was feeling well again.  So this past weekend, we took a trip to the nursery on Saturday and picked out 3 fothergillas and 1 viburnum (pictured), 5 paw paws, and 1 sweetbay magnolia.  Then we spent most of Sunday working in the yard and got everything in but the paw paws.  We still have a long way to go, but this is almost more of a symbolic victory at this point, and I am pleased with how it looks.

Second, the metaphorical reason:  I received several beautiful gifts this weekend (thanks Patty and Family Strides!), one of which was a little journal with that phrase on it.  For whatever reason, that is really resonating with me right now.  (Maybe because of the spring planting? I don't know.)  This is not the ground in which I would have chosen to be planted, but I am beginning to embrace it.  There are riches in this soil, despite the rocks.  Granted, this is much easier to say at the moments when I am feeling well as opposed to the moments when I am lying on the floor crying because this feels too hard and too unfair (that was the previous weekend).  But still, I think that I am starting to see how I can bloom not in spite of this, but because of this.

If that wasn't enough positivity for you, I've got more good news.  All of my counts were normal again at my nadir visit last Thursday, so they've decided that I don't need to keep having them.  That means fewer blood draws and fewer appointments that I have to go to, which is a big plus.  It also means that my body is continuing to handle treatment well.

The second round has just been all around better than the first.  I know I only really have two data points now (which makes a straight line!), but it looks like there is a pattern emerging that will hopefully hold (or improve) for the rest of treatment:  week 1 is pretty much a wash, week 2 is okay but tired, and week 3 is mostly normal.  I can handle this.

Round 3 starts on Tuesday.  Almost halfway done.