Wilson River Gal

Time flies. It's been two weeks since I've posted anything. Not a surprise: my typical week is jammed with work and commuting (9-hour work days, 1.5 hours in commuting time), which doesn't leave much room for anything else. When B and I get home from work, my time is devoted to making lunches for the next day, then making dinner. Lately, while B does the post-dinner dishes, I'm already getting ready for bed. I've been trying to get more sleep - 'cause I feel my whole system caving in any time I push too hard.I'm walking a tightrope of push hard enough vs. not pushing too hard. Last Wednesday was a treatment day for me. I feel cared for, and know I'm getting good care at the center. They're friendly and warm and I feel welcome. I am able to relax and go with the flow of the meds - sleep for a while with the Benadryl, then gradually wake up to the R-CHOP routine that is marking my third weeks these days. The next five days are spent resting and sl...

Last Wednesday, I visited the Tallest Barber in Garibaldi. Tami's cut my hair a few times in the past five or six years - I've donated twice to Locks of Love - but this chair time was for a different reason than in the past. Dr. D told me that my hair follicles will soon quit growing hair for a while, and that when the follicle quits growing hair, it lets go of the hair that is attached. Tami said that it doesn't happen all at once - and for some it doesn't happen much at all - but I decided that I wanted to be out ahead of this thing rather than go through the anguish of losing long hair. I've worn my hair long for about ten years - and have had hip length hair twice during that time. Long hair had become kind of a marker of identity for me. I guess you could say that I had an emotional attachment to my long braid, even though it made me look older than I am and I was often irritated that it took so much effort to wash, comb, and take care of. My hair iss...

  By now, Mom, I know you've heard about the invader they found in my lymph nodes. I didn't want to tell you, envisioning the fear and hot panic in your brown eyes, just like I saw it when you spoke of my lost brother Michael. I didn't want to do that to you. But, Mom, I have to tell you, so you'll know that I'll be alright. There is hope now, and medicines that work - cancer is not just loss and pain and death. I'm getting good care. Family and friends surround me with love and good wishes; their strong energy bouys me on days like today. I know you're scared for me, Mom. I am, too. I'm scared of losing my hair. I'm scared of being sick and so tired that it would be nearly effortless to just quit breathing. I'm scared of being alone - like  you were. (We are all alone in death, aren't we?) It's been years since we've talked, and I know I was often unkind to you. Your illnesses scared me and made me want to run and hide  - not becaus...

  What am I doing today? Laying around watching Tony Bourdain on Hulu. Knitting (yet another pair of socks - I keep wearing them out on my tile floors). Dozing. Listening to the rain pounding on the great room skylight. I'm glad I'm in a nice warm house out here in the woods - no traffic, few neighbors (and those are mostly friends and family), very little to worry about. I am truly well-blessed. Even though I don't feel like eating, I need to cook. Cooking is such a huge part of my life - throughout the day, even on busy workdays, I think, "What am I fixing for dinner? What do we have for work lunches? Do we need to stop at the store or produce stand for anything?" My husband, dearest B, has an appreciative palette and is a decent cook in his own right. I'm a somewhat adventurous home cook that becomes infatuated obsessed with various flavor combinations. These days, I seem to be on a Moroccan / Indian / Egyptian flavor theme, so a lot of our dinners se...

Here's an April Fool's trick that beats all: spending the day in a chemo treatment center and being the newbie there. YMMV, but I found it to be a pleasant experience. I'm getting my treatment through Compass Oncology, and am finding their staff and facilities absolutely top notch. I felt very cared for every step of the way. That being said, here it is, the Day After, and I feel like, well, pond sludge. No energy. Don't feel like eating (but I have eaten a little). Managing to keep a more or less constant inflow of water and green tea. Being mindful of not ingesting sugar - sugar feeds lymphoma, and I'll be damned if I'll feed these little aberrant cells any more than I have to. Nausea? Nada - good drugs have taken care of that. Pain - minimal. Again: good drugs. Mostly I just need to rest, but really am not sleeping during the day today, just resting. We're all feeling very relieved that the first thing yesterday morning Dr. D let us know that my ...