Today was the first time Dr. Chue has seen Jon in over a month. He was out of the office recovering from glaucoma surgery. He seems to be doing well and is more of a genius then ever. We had been wondering about a new drug called Nexavar that was just recently approved for primary liver cancer. We had been asking everyone at SCTWC about it and no one gave us much information. Jon asked Dr. Chue about it today and, of course, received a detailed lecture on the molecular structure and physiological effects of the drug. How does that guy keep so much information in his head??? When he talks he kind of reminds me of a computer...you ask him a questions and he looks up at the ceiling and hums, like the rest of us do when we're searching the web but he is just processing through his brain. Then after a few seconds he give you a dissertation on the subject with annotated footnotes, names and dates. It is amazing!
Jon's absolute nuetrophils (type of white blood cell) were low today to the point where they sent him home with Luekine (injectable medication to raise his count). Rex was his escort today and was kind enough to call me to let me know Jon would be hiding the syringes from me and was already refusing the medication. Then Jon called and asked me to find a supplement to fix it. I did and we should have it delivered tomorrow, hopefully it will do the trick. If his count gets any lower he will have to skip a week of chemo which would prolong treatment past Christmas. We've been here before and he has always managed to get back in the normal range so I'm not overly concerned. Three more to go and then the PET scan!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
This Blogs for You
For all of you who don't get to see Jon often I just want to assure you that he is as well and crazy as ever. Here is a recent picture after his "upper body work out"
Our photo session started after reflecting on this last year...I have a burning desire to visit every health care provider who told us Jon wouldn't live to see this Thanksgiving. I actually have an appointment with our family doctor in a couple of weeks for a physical. She was the unfortunate one who discovered the cancer then very kindly and sincerely told me that Jon would probably not live the year and that she wouldn't recommend chemo since he was terminal and it would be so hard on him. It's sad because she was completely sincere and honest. I am going to introduce her to Dr. Chue and bring this picture to my appointment. I don't fault any of the doctors who told us what they did, they are giving us what they learned in medical school. But we do want them to know that there is always hope and alternatives for their patients.
I realize we're not out of the woods yet and appreciate every day for the miracle that it is.
Jon is goosehunting this weekend :)
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving
This Thanksgiving we have so much to be grateful for! I think back on a year ago tonight and I was sitting in my office with the radiologist from Center for Diagnostic Imaging on my land line and two oncologists on my cell phone. Jon had just completed his first MRI and we were working to persuade the oncologist to order a PET scan. At that point we were still unsure of where his cancer had originated and what course of treatment we were going to pursue. Thanksgiving day was particularly difficult because the entire family was here and I still couldn't talk about the Big C. Jon had asked me not to tell anyone until we were clear on the diagnosis and our plan of attack. He also wanted to be sure that we told our children first. Being the talkaholic that I am it was almost impossible for me to keep that kind of secret for nearly a month and celebrate a holiday like nothing was wrong. After Thanksgiving dinner Jon took Levi into his office and gave him the news. I told Elizabeth on the weekend while we stayed in Seattle. The following Tuesday Jon had his first chemo then boarded a plane for California so he could tell Staci. We told Kelsey and Staci simultaneously. Next were our parents, brothers, and sisters...Jon left most of those up to me. It's so weird how burdensome it is to share that kind of news, it pains you to know that what you're about to say will break a persons heart.
As most of you know the rest of the year has been a roller coaster. Jon lost 18 pounds with his first two chemos and his followup CT scan showed no improvement. It was only then that he agreed to see Dr. Chue for a consultation (the first time I suggested it he threw the papers back and me and told me I should "quit listening to that Madison Avenue bullshit!") There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank God for Dr. Chue. He is the person that gave Jon hope and without hope in this battle you have nothing. In March Jon was hospitalized with double pneumonia where the doctors didn't expect him to live 24 hours. He spent most of June and half of July in bed, on a good day he could make it to the couch. Today he is stronger, healthier and wiser than ever. This has been a journey of the physical and the spiritual, the emotional and the psychological...through it all Jon has managed to keep his sense of humor, strength and determination. We are better for it, both as individuals and as partners. Thanks to everyone for your continued encouragement, prayers, love and support, we could have never made it this far without you.
Happy Thanksgiving!
As most of you know the rest of the year has been a roller coaster. Jon lost 18 pounds with his first two chemos and his followup CT scan showed no improvement. It was only then that he agreed to see Dr. Chue for a consultation (the first time I suggested it he threw the papers back and me and told me I should "quit listening to that Madison Avenue bullshit!") There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank God for Dr. Chue. He is the person that gave Jon hope and without hope in this battle you have nothing. In March Jon was hospitalized with double pneumonia where the doctors didn't expect him to live 24 hours. He spent most of June and half of July in bed, on a good day he could make it to the couch. Today he is stronger, healthier and wiser than ever. This has been a journey of the physical and the spiritual, the emotional and the psychological...through it all Jon has managed to keep his sense of humor, strength and determination. We are better for it, both as individuals and as partners. Thanks to everyone for your continued encouragement, prayers, love and support, we could have never made it this far without you.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Chemo Tuesday
Here we are back at chemo. Jon's had a pretty good week but he has been a little more tired then usual. His hemoglobin, hematocrit and platelets were slightly low this time which would account for the increased fatigue. Next week is our week off so that will give him a chance to rebound. This has been by far the best session of chemo with minimal side effects. He seems to tolerate the Tarceva just find if he takes the lower dose during the week off from intravenous chemo.
Dr. Chue has been out of the office for the past month or so. He had eye surgery for glaucoma and his vision is coming back very slowly. The report is that he was able to read for the first time yesterday but is still unable to drive. It might be a few more weeks until we see him. In his absence the rest of the staff has taken excellent care of Jon. We had a long discussion with Dr. Reilly last week about the radiofreuqency albation versus a liver resection. The jury is still out on any surgery until after the PET scan in December. We are praying that Dr. Chue will be back in time to help us make those decisions. Jon is adamantly opposed to a surgery as invasive as a resection, however both Dr. Reilly and Dr. Chue have indicated that it might be his best hope for a complete cure. The ablation is still a good option but he would require more chemo afterwards. These are difficult decisions and of course ultimately up to Jon.
We are looking forward to our week off and Thanksgiving at Tonya and Tony's this year. Elizabeth and I both have this Thursday off and are planning on baking pumpkin pies and Christmas cookies all day. I don't think we've done that together in ten years!
Dr. Chue has been out of the office for the past month or so. He had eye surgery for glaucoma and his vision is coming back very slowly. The report is that he was able to read for the first time yesterday but is still unable to drive. It might be a few more weeks until we see him. In his absence the rest of the staff has taken excellent care of Jon. We had a long discussion with Dr. Reilly last week about the radiofreuqency albation versus a liver resection. The jury is still out on any surgery until after the PET scan in December. We are praying that Dr. Chue will be back in time to help us make those decisions. Jon is adamantly opposed to a surgery as invasive as a resection, however both Dr. Reilly and Dr. Chue have indicated that it might be his best hope for a complete cure. The ablation is still a good option but he would require more chemo afterwards. These are difficult decisions and of course ultimately up to Jon.
We are looking forward to our week off and Thanksgiving at Tonya and Tony's this year. Elizabeth and I both have this Thursday off and are planning on baking pumpkin pies and Christmas cookies all day. I don't think we've done that together in ten years!
Monday, November 12, 2007
A Personal Cancer Story
Jon has been after me to post this email from Kelli on the blog for the past week. Although we received Kelli's permission to share her letter I have felt hesitant to do so. It is such an intimate view of life and death in the cancer world it's almost sacred. Of course all of you that know Jon will appreciate that he won't give it up (kind of like his marriage proposals???) so here it is. It is the story of her final moments with her husband. It is honest, painful and extremely well written. Everyone who reads this should know that Kelli and her boys are doing as well as anyone possibly could under the circumstances. We still email frequently and plan to stay in touch. Kelli remains one of our most ardent cheerleaders in "kicking cancers butt!"
Wow, life seems surreal right now. I just can't believe it, though in reality I knew it was coming, but you always have to hold on to hope. You know...Throughout this whole cancer journey we've had to deal with so much bad news and so much hurt. We've gone through the failed chemo, failed surgery, failed transplant, you're gonna die, etc. I've always thought to myself that when it's Paul's time to go, I want to be somewhat blind-sided and I don't ever want to feel like we've lost hope, not even in the very end. I never wanted to it be like...Sorry, no more chemo, you have three months to live, go home (we went through that at the SCCA and know how it feels). I always wanted the hope that this could turn around, because feeling hopeless is too painful. If Paul were to have to go I wanted it to be fast. So, I guess Paul's departure from this earth was everything that I could've asked for given the situation. I am still forever grateful to Dr. Chue for the couple of extra months that he gave us while still maintaining a quality of life for Paul (minus the past few weeks). Though the chemo stopped palliating the cancer in the end, it continued to palliate our spirits and I am grateful for that as well. Paul always told me that he didn't want to die in the hospital, but this just felt right. Paul was never told that "he was dying", but at the same time he never questioned why after his transfusion he didn't go home. I think he knew as well as us. Heck, he knew it Saturday when he told me he was done and not going in for treatment on Monday (though he ended up going for everyone else). It broke my heart having to wheel Paul into the hospital for his transfusion, because he just could no longer walk. Prior to cancer Paul was a machine. He was the most physically fit and active person I knew, a hard worker, and extremely conscious of his health. I did not like seeing him have to lay in bed all day, having to deal with the neuropathy, joint pain, etc. Dr. Chen handled it well too. He came to Swedish to examine Paul and was just like...Hey Paul! I'm just here to say hi and check you out! When he was done, he was just like...Alright, see you later Paul. Just natural, upbeat, and like a typical doctor doing his rounds. I spoke to him outside and he told me that Paul's right lung had no air movement anymore, and his left lung sounded really bad. He only had about 1/4 of his left lung that was working. He told us that Paul could be gone in a day, maybe three at the most. It was sickening how fast the cancer grew. Each day you could just hear in his breathing and cough how much worse it got.
It was pretty neat, because the day after the transfusion Paul appeared to be very out of it (he had a high-dose morphine drip). Then he suddenly perked up and became responsive and we all got to spend time with him and tell him everything we wanted too. After we all stood around his bed and talked about all our fun times they scooted Paul over so I could lay in bed with him and take a nap. It was the most beautiful and sincere conversation I've ever had. I thank God for that time. The next day he was really bad. His morphine order went up to 10 (mg an hour) and he was at a 9. He could no longer talk, but he could nod. I saw him cringe and try to grab his chest...I asked him if he felt something and he nodded yes. I told him I'd take care of it and make sure he couldn't feel anything and he nodded. I told him that I would be there with him until the end and he nodded and I told him that I loved him and he nodded. Then the nurse came in and gave him a bollus of morhpine and told us that it would put Paul in a non-responsive state, and that was it. It was like his body went into a mechanical mode. He was jerking each time he took a breath, because he had no lung capacity. The nurse told us that he could be like that for several days. I had one last alone moment with Paul and prayed that the Lord would take him home...I told Paul that his work here was done, go be with God, it's time to go. Much to the suprise of the nurses, he went. I was holding him in my arms. I don't think I'll ever forget that day. I don't think I've ever felt pain so deep seeing him go. On the other hand I am so incredibly happy for him. He is now where we all strive to be and he finally killed that cancer. He told me he was ready, he was excited, and he was happy. I guess I couldn't ask for more. It's so hard though. I am happy, I am liberated from cancer, but I will miss him deeply. I miss his companionship and friendship. Paul was a man of extremely strong and deep faith and I know he is with God.
Today was super lame though...I had to start all of the funeral arraingements. I picked out his casket (NOT fun), purchased his plot, which they call "properties" and purchased one for myself while I was at it right next to him. I think it is the most beautiful spot in the cemetary (Mountain View Cemetary in Auburn). It is on the top of the hill with a beautiful view of Mt. Rainier, at the base of a small tree, and the headstone will include a beautiful bench for people to sit, reflect, and enjoy the view. Picking out the property was peaceful, but I certainly didn't enjoy the casket, vault, part. Then I had to pick out clothes for him to wear. :-/ Tough. It was hard to come home yesterday and see all of his clothes here, his razor, toothbrush, and everything as we had left it on Monday. The first thing I did when I got home was throw away all of the meds he had to take. It felt good. No more cough syrup, morpine, codeine, and anti-nauseas. No more pink throw-up buckets. No more anything like that. It was liberating. Tonight was wierd. My sister-in-law and I went to the grocery store and got some dinner at 9:00 tonight. I can't tell you how wierd it was to just be able to leave the house, not worry about arrainging for someone to stay with Paul, worrying if he would be okay, or having to have someone else go for me. I've been a 24 hour caregiver for so long. And Paul was not a burden, but the cancer was. No more tumor markers, no more CT Scans, we're finally done.
Thank you guys for visiting Paul the other day. He really enjoyed that. He enjoyed talking to Jon and you because you guys know what it's like. He was so very thankful for Jon taking him up to Mark Jane's. That gave us our last quality night when Paul actually had the energy to come downstairs and watch a movie.
Anyway, the service will be on Tuesday at our church with viewings on Saturday and Monday night. Viewings are kind of wierd. I don't much care to go, but it's more for other people than myself. Well, I guess I'm going to go try to sleep now. I actually stayed up for two whole nights at the hospital!!!
Talk to you soon,
Kelli
Wow, life seems surreal right now. I just can't believe it, though in reality I knew it was coming, but you always have to hold on to hope. You know...Throughout this whole cancer journey we've had to deal with so much bad news and so much hurt. We've gone through the failed chemo, failed surgery, failed transplant, you're gonna die, etc. I've always thought to myself that when it's Paul's time to go, I want to be somewhat blind-sided and I don't ever want to feel like we've lost hope, not even in the very end. I never wanted to it be like...Sorry, no more chemo, you have three months to live, go home (we went through that at the SCCA and know how it feels). I always wanted the hope that this could turn around, because feeling hopeless is too painful. If Paul were to have to go I wanted it to be fast. So, I guess Paul's departure from this earth was everything that I could've asked for given the situation. I am still forever grateful to Dr. Chue for the couple of extra months that he gave us while still maintaining a quality of life for Paul (minus the past few weeks). Though the chemo stopped palliating the cancer in the end, it continued to palliate our spirits and I am grateful for that as well. Paul always told me that he didn't want to die in the hospital, but this just felt right. Paul was never told that "he was dying", but at the same time he never questioned why after his transfusion he didn't go home. I think he knew as well as us. Heck, he knew it Saturday when he told me he was done and not going in for treatment on Monday (though he ended up going for everyone else). It broke my heart having to wheel Paul into the hospital for his transfusion, because he just could no longer walk. Prior to cancer Paul was a machine. He was the most physically fit and active person I knew, a hard worker, and extremely conscious of his health. I did not like seeing him have to lay in bed all day, having to deal with the neuropathy, joint pain, etc. Dr. Chen handled it well too. He came to Swedish to examine Paul and was just like...Hey Paul! I'm just here to say hi and check you out! When he was done, he was just like...Alright, see you later Paul. Just natural, upbeat, and like a typical doctor doing his rounds. I spoke to him outside and he told me that Paul's right lung had no air movement anymore, and his left lung sounded really bad. He only had about 1/4 of his left lung that was working. He told us that Paul could be gone in a day, maybe three at the most. It was sickening how fast the cancer grew. Each day you could just hear in his breathing and cough how much worse it got.
It was pretty neat, because the day after the transfusion Paul appeared to be very out of it (he had a high-dose morphine drip). Then he suddenly perked up and became responsive and we all got to spend time with him and tell him everything we wanted too. After we all stood around his bed and talked about all our fun times they scooted Paul over so I could lay in bed with him and take a nap. It was the most beautiful and sincere conversation I've ever had. I thank God for that time. The next day he was really bad. His morphine order went up to 10 (mg an hour) and he was at a 9. He could no longer talk, but he could nod. I saw him cringe and try to grab his chest...I asked him if he felt something and he nodded yes. I told him I'd take care of it and make sure he couldn't feel anything and he nodded. I told him that I would be there with him until the end and he nodded and I told him that I loved him and he nodded. Then the nurse came in and gave him a bollus of morhpine and told us that it would put Paul in a non-responsive state, and that was it. It was like his body went into a mechanical mode. He was jerking each time he took a breath, because he had no lung capacity. The nurse told us that he could be like that for several days. I had one last alone moment with Paul and prayed that the Lord would take him home...I told Paul that his work here was done, go be with God, it's time to go. Much to the suprise of the nurses, he went. I was holding him in my arms. I don't think I'll ever forget that day. I don't think I've ever felt pain so deep seeing him go. On the other hand I am so incredibly happy for him. He is now where we all strive to be and he finally killed that cancer. He told me he was ready, he was excited, and he was happy. I guess I couldn't ask for more. It's so hard though. I am happy, I am liberated from cancer, but I will miss him deeply. I miss his companionship and friendship. Paul was a man of extremely strong and deep faith and I know he is with God.
Today was super lame though...I had to start all of the funeral arraingements. I picked out his casket (NOT fun), purchased his plot, which they call "properties" and purchased one for myself while I was at it right next to him. I think it is the most beautiful spot in the cemetary (Mountain View Cemetary in Auburn). It is on the top of the hill with a beautiful view of Mt. Rainier, at the base of a small tree, and the headstone will include a beautiful bench for people to sit, reflect, and enjoy the view. Picking out the property was peaceful, but I certainly didn't enjoy the casket, vault, part. Then I had to pick out clothes for him to wear. :-/ Tough. It was hard to come home yesterday and see all of his clothes here, his razor, toothbrush, and everything as we had left it on Monday. The first thing I did when I got home was throw away all of the meds he had to take. It felt good. No more cough syrup, morpine, codeine, and anti-nauseas. No more pink throw-up buckets. No more anything like that. It was liberating. Tonight was wierd. My sister-in-law and I went to the grocery store and got some dinner at 9:00 tonight. I can't tell you how wierd it was to just be able to leave the house, not worry about arrainging for someone to stay with Paul, worrying if he would be okay, or having to have someone else go for me. I've been a 24 hour caregiver for so long. And Paul was not a burden, but the cancer was. No more tumor markers, no more CT Scans, we're finally done.
Thank you guys for visiting Paul the other day. He really enjoyed that. He enjoyed talking to Jon and you because you guys know what it's like. He was so very thankful for Jon taking him up to Mark Jane's. That gave us our last quality night when Paul actually had the energy to come downstairs and watch a movie.
Anyway, the service will be on Tuesday at our church with viewings on Saturday and Monday night. Viewings are kind of wierd. I don't much care to go, but it's more for other people than myself. Well, I guess I'm going to go try to sleep now. I actually stayed up for two whole nights at the hospital!!!
Talk to you soon,
Kelli
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
More On Paul and Kelli
Today was Paul Hutton's Memorial Service. The family did an excellent job of celebrating and honoring Paul's life. Kelli and the boys have a tremendous amount of support from both sides of the family and everyone was there in full-force today.
Kelli and I have exchange many e-mails during our cancer battles. As you can imagine the ones over the past few weeks have touched Jon and I deeply. We have asked Kelli's permission to share some of them on our blog. The one that follows was sent two days after Paul's passing.
Hi Lorri,
The weirdest thing happened to me tonight and I just had to share this with you. I will start out by saying that I am not a "ghost" type person, I have never seen anything with my own eyes to think otherwise. Anyway, ever since Paul passed away I have noticed at night that the lamp by our bed has been turned on. Things have been really hectic for me and my mom is staying with me for awhile, so I just figured maybe I forgot to turn it off, or maybe my mom turned it on to make it cozy. However, I still thought it was kind of strange, because I am notoriously obsessive-compulsive about turning off lights when I'm not in the room. Anyway, this morning I couldn't stop thinking about the lamp. So, before I left (had to go to my aunt's funeral) I SPECIFICALLY made sure the lamp was off and SPECIFICALLY made sure the light switch was off (because the lamp is attached to the light switch). Then I DOUBLE CHECKED it and know for certain, it was off. Tonight when I came home and took my shoes off I noticed a glow coming from upstairs. I went up there and sure enough...Our bedroom lamp was on. I had the most warm, comforting feeling come over me, and I just know it was Paul telling me that he's okay. I am just beside myself, because I know with 100% certainty that the light was off when I left!
Is that weird or what???!!!???
Kelli and I have exchange many e-mails during our cancer battles. As you can imagine the ones over the past few weeks have touched Jon and I deeply. We have asked Kelli's permission to share some of them on our blog. The one that follows was sent two days after Paul's passing.
Hi Lorri,
The weirdest thing happened to me tonight and I just had to share this with you. I will start out by saying that I am not a "ghost" type person, I have never seen anything with my own eyes to think otherwise. Anyway, ever since Paul passed away I have noticed at night that the lamp by our bed has been turned on. Things have been really hectic for me and my mom is staying with me for awhile, so I just figured maybe I forgot to turn it off, or maybe my mom turned it on to make it cozy. However, I still thought it was kind of strange, because I am notoriously obsessive-compulsive about turning off lights when I'm not in the room. Anyway, this morning I couldn't stop thinking about the lamp. So, before I left (had to go to my aunt's funeral) I SPECIFICALLY made sure the lamp was off and SPECIFICALLY made sure the light switch was off (because the lamp is attached to the light switch). Then I DOUBLE CHECKED it and know for certain, it was off. Tonight when I came home and took my shoes off I noticed a glow coming from upstairs. I went up there and sure enough...Our bedroom lamp was on. I had the most warm, comforting feeling come over me, and I just know it was Paul telling me that he's okay. I am just beside myself, because I know with 100% certainty that the light was off when I left!
Is that weird or what???!!!???
Sunday, November 4, 2007
One Year Post Diagnosis
All in all it's been a pretty good weekend (and surprisingly a really good year!). Friday night was our dinner celebration at Jimmy Macks in honor of the three Nichols men...Levi for being recently unemployed, Jon for still being alive, and Kelsey for being newly employed. To be more specific, Levi had his last day at TDS and will begin a new job as an apprentice welder/glazier next week. Kelsey took in a job application to Papa Murphys and the manager was so impressed with him he told him he'd hire him the day he turned 16 (December 27). Jon's story is self-explanatory. When we were at SCTW on Tuesday I said to the nurses, "Now I know you have a lot of long term survivors here but honestly, do you have anyone who looks this good a year out from a pancreatic cancer diagnosis? I mean the guy is still working out three days a week and his blood work is perfect!" They fell all over him as he flexed his muscles and smiled. Yes, I know I shouldn't encourage his ego like that but I just couldn't help myself given the one year mark.
Saturday I had my annual Food and Clothing Drive at my office. We donate all of our services in exchange for donations of food and clothing for the Federal Way Food Bank. It's always a busy but rewarding day. Jon was feeling a kind of crappy all day (his crash day has moved from Thursday to Fri or Sat) so I drove him to meet with his new renter of the famous "Meth house" Saturday night. After signing the lease and eating dinner at our favorite Thai restaurant he felt much better :)
On Sunday morning we got up early to drop our dump trailer off for our friend Brian only to discover it was Daylight Savings and we could have slept in for an extra hour! We settled for Starbucks and church, with a nap this afternoon. I have received a couple of good emails from our friend Kelli Hutton, we were hoping to have a chance to see her today but no luck. Paul's service is Tuesday and we plan on zipping through chemo to be there when it starts at 1pm. She sounds like she is doing as well as could possibly be expected under the circumstances.
One thing that was really weird for me this weekend was that all of the kids were out of town. Elizabeth went with David to Cheney for Eastern's Homecoming, Kelsey and Levi went jeeping, and of course, Staci lives in California. It felt really strange not having any of them around for 48 hours. I am grateful that the three of them live so close and that we get to see Staci as often as we do. With any luck there will be a few more grandchildren on the horizon.
Jon just got done working out and said his aerobic capacity was a little low. It's usually the first thing to go with chemo. He has two more sessions then his week off. I wouldn't be surprised to see his red count down a little on Tuesday with him showing a few side effects. The four weeks on/one week off program seems to be working pretty well and keeping his side effects to a minimum. I guess we will know for sure when we get the PET scan in December. So when everyone asks me what I want for Christmas this year my answer will be 1.A negative PET scan or 2. Liver tumors under 4x7.5cm and amenable to ablation.
I am so grateful for every one's love and support in the past year. I can't say enough about SCTWC because I know without them my husband would not be alive. The medical treatment, holistic approach, hope and encouragement they have given us is beyond words. Thank you to all of our family, friends, and health care providers who have encouraged, prayed, loved and supported us through our cancer journey. The road ahead is still long and arduous but with all of your help I know we will persevere.
Saturday I had my annual Food and Clothing Drive at my office. We donate all of our services in exchange for donations of food and clothing for the Federal Way Food Bank. It's always a busy but rewarding day. Jon was feeling a kind of crappy all day (his crash day has moved from Thursday to Fri or Sat) so I drove him to meet with his new renter of the famous "Meth house" Saturday night. After signing the lease and eating dinner at our favorite Thai restaurant he felt much better :)
On Sunday morning we got up early to drop our dump trailer off for our friend Brian only to discover it was Daylight Savings and we could have slept in for an extra hour! We settled for Starbucks and church, with a nap this afternoon. I have received a couple of good emails from our friend Kelli Hutton, we were hoping to have a chance to see her today but no luck. Paul's service is Tuesday and we plan on zipping through chemo to be there when it starts at 1pm. She sounds like she is doing as well as could possibly be expected under the circumstances.
One thing that was really weird for me this weekend was that all of the kids were out of town. Elizabeth went with David to Cheney for Eastern's Homecoming, Kelsey and Levi went jeeping, and of course, Staci lives in California. It felt really strange not having any of them around for 48 hours. I am grateful that the three of them live so close and that we get to see Staci as often as we do. With any luck there will be a few more grandchildren on the horizon.
Jon just got done working out and said his aerobic capacity was a little low. It's usually the first thing to go with chemo. He has two more sessions then his week off. I wouldn't be surprised to see his red count down a little on Tuesday with him showing a few side effects. The four weeks on/one week off program seems to be working pretty well and keeping his side effects to a minimum. I guess we will know for sure when we get the PET scan in December. So when everyone asks me what I want for Christmas this year my answer will be 1.A negative PET scan or 2. Liver tumors under 4x7.5cm and amenable to ablation.
I am so grateful for every one's love and support in the past year. I can't say enough about SCTWC because I know without them my husband would not be alive. The medical treatment, holistic approach, hope and encouragement they have given us is beyond words. Thank you to all of our family, friends, and health care providers who have encouraged, prayed, loved and supported us through our cancer journey. The road ahead is still long and arduous but with all of your help I know we will persevere.
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