Hanging In!

Wow! It’s been ROUGH and TOUGH lately. I’ve been dragging! My energy just isn’t there, and I’ve had some trouble sleeping so that complicates the next day. I did the last Rituxan dance at my infusion on Thursday (the “R” in "CHOP-R”). I have two more rounds of just the CHOP. Wish that “P” didn’t stand for Prednisone! It’s a relief that I’m seeing a glimmer of light at the end of this chemo tunnel. After that, I will finish up with the Bexar treatment, as part of a clinical trial, in a couple of months.

Meanwhile, Julie’s first round of chemo was pretty awful. They had technical difficulties getting the first treatment underway and then she experienced side effects that were unusual. Afterwards, she suffered terribly from wicked nausea and some vomiting and ended up glued to the couch for a few days. Things are looking better for her now and she has been able to return to work.

To distract ourselves, Julie and I are constantly reading, Julie is knitting (and keeps screwing up so I have to fix it), and we have a perpetual DVD going from Blockbuster (we’re on the fast track checkout plan). Now that we’ve seen everything in the store, the clerks—[you know how you usually just ignore them? Well, we are on a first-name basis with them!] and we press for new movie recommendations constantly. The last straw was some depressing morality tale by Woody Allen. I’ve put my foot down and now Julie and all Blockbuster clerks are on notice that movies can only be upbeat and happy. Thank God Clare recommended “Connie and Carla” with the actress that did “My Big Fat Greek Wedding.” Check it out (we’re done with it).

Julie’s friend Cathy Lewis gave her, and now I am recommending to you, the book “Three Cups of Tea”. It is a very unusual and inspirational story about how one person with vision, passion, and commitment changed themselves and the course of other people’s lives. Author Mortenson, a Minnesotan, built 55 schools in the remote mountatains of war-torn Pakistan—beginning as the Taliban was just forming. Reading it during this time was good for me as it forced me to think about this bigger picture rather than only seeing things through the cancer lens. Further, I found myself delighted when Mary Pat remarked to me that four years after her cancer treatment, she doesn’t remember any specific things…like names of certain drugs, blood counts, etc. I look forward to that kind of forgetting.

Arf! Arf! Shelby, our sweet Schnauzer, is barking out a thank you to our good friend and neighbor, Tricia, for all the great walkies she’s been enjoying.


Take good care,

Ellie