Now It's the Real End of Round 7. That last one was a little premature...

Carol threw me for a bit of a loop this week when she suggested that, if all of her numbers looked good, maybe she'd get a third weekly IV treatment, since she's going to have the holidays off. Of course, they did look good, since she's a rock star, so she did get treatment today. And tomorrow ends her first two-week round of the new daily pills. So that will be the official end to Round 7 of her treatments.

Here's to a holiday season that is filled with an appetite, running shoes, x-country skis, and the joy of pleasant company. Eliza comes in tomorrow evening, and visitors from Southern climes get in next week.

To all of you who have been such a source of support these past several months, we wish you the merriest of holidays. Thank you so much.

Round 7 -- Like 2014 -- Almost Over and On Its Way Out

Once this two-step storm had worked its way through our region, it was time to bundle up this morning and head to see good nurse Margaret for this week's treatment. Scout had an uncommonly early appointment, so it was quiet when we first arrived. With a little time to look around, we noticed that someone had been busy; each piece of artwork on the walls had been taken down, wrapped, then rehung. Interesting. When we commented on the new decor, Doc Paul recounted his 50th birthday present from the staff -- his entire office -- walls, pens, phone, computer, everything -- wrapped in aluminum foil. They take great care of their patients, and they have fun as well.

Still, it's not all fun. The effects of Carol's additional medication have begun to show themselves a bit. While it used to be that she would have a brief period of feeling alright after a Thursday treatment, feel it most during the weekend, and then begin to feel better sometime on Monday, the daily medication has taken away the delayed onset this week. This afternoon, the best psychological medicine was the constant reminder that she had gone out yesterday, in a snowstorm, and run eight miles. And that tomorrow there would still be fresh snow for skiing. These things will continue to happen. And this evening, I can say that much of that ill feeling has passed.

Finally, with the change in treatment comes a change in schedule. While it will normally be two weeks on, one week off, with the holidays coming up today was the last scheduled treatment of this year. For that, and for so much more, we are thankful.

Eat More, Drink More...

Mixed messages alert:

         Sitting in the doctor's office today, I pick up a magazine from my new stalker: AARP. (Don't get me started.) Inside, Melissa Etheridge is touting the benefits of an ultra-healthy diet in combating a particular condition. Carol and I talk about it, since she has been so good forever with what she eats. Of course the ideas are good, but would we really go dairy-free? Gluten-free? Not sure.
         Cut to the infusion area. Carol's receiving her treatment, starting a new cycle, resting while the medicine starts to do its work, when I hear, "And get one for them out there, too!" from inside the one semi-private treatment room. Out walks a woman, who says to us, "I'm heading to Dunkin Donuts, and you're getting a doughnut. What kind do you want?" About five minutes later, we're both biting into a Boston creme. Knowing that our benefactor is an 18-year survivor helps them go down a little more easily.

Carol's treatment is changing a little starting this cycle.  Her latest scan showed a slight change, and the doctor has modified her treatment, adding a pill she'll take daily in addition to her treatments at the office. One of the side effects of this new medication can be dehydration, so Carol's challenge will be keeping enough fluids in her system.  For any of you who have noticed how seldom she speaks of thirst, you know that getting "two to three quarts of fluid per 24 hours" seems an insurmountable task to her. But, as she has with every other new challenge in this process, I'm sure she will rise to the occasion (though not without a little complaining).

“It's unpleasantly like being drunk." 

"What's so unpleasant about being drunk?" 

"You ask a glass of water.” 

― Douglas Adams

Thanksgiving Week -- tryptophan and no treatment!

Very thankful to have this week off from treatment, Carol and I are so looking forward to having Eliza home for much of this Thanksgiving week. It will be tempered with sadness that we won't be heading down to my Mom's in Connecticut this year -- the first time in many years that we will not make the trip. Instead, we will have a low-key, quiet Thanksgiving here in Burlington.

We will still be connected with family, though; I'm sure that our niece Harper will learn the mysteries of cranberry ice this year, and we'll Facetime with her to see just how much sugar she's pouring in the mix.

Of course, with late November come thoughts of First Run, the only (other) time in the year that I run. Carol and I haven't committed to it yet, but costume ideas are starting to swirl around.

That's about it. Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday. On so many levels, we are thankful to you all.

For me, every hour is grace. 

And I feel gratitude in my heart 

each time I can meet someone 

and look at his or her smile.

Elie Wiesel

Early Thanksgiving season

Ordinarily, this would be a week off from treatment for Scout. But with Thanksgiving around the corner, she asked to have an extra day of treatment this week in order to be free from it during the week of the holiday. So far this round, all of her bloodwork has been good there shouldn't be any problem this week for her to get treatment.  Still, it is seeming to have a little of a cumulative effect on her in the days following a treatment. I know she's looking forward to having a short break from it; I can't imagine having the physical strength to walk around the block after one of these rounds, let alone go for a twelve-mile run, which Carol did today. And the same inner strength that gets her out to run is getting her through all of this.

An early Thanksgiving wish to all of you.  You have no idea how thankful we are for you, our friends and family. Now get out there and run in a Turkey Trot!

Long-distance running

the long-distance run of an early morning 

makes me think that every run like this is a life -- 

a little life, I know -- 

but a life as full of misery and happiness 

and things happening as you can ever get really around yourself

                                                   -- John Sillitoe, The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner

Carol's doctor has said on more than one occasion in the last several months, "it's not a sprint; it's a marathon." And just as in a marathon, Carol's experience changes as she goes through it. There are times when she has felt energized by the support and love from others, and there are other times when she has had to draw upon reservoirs of faith, hope, and optimism she has inside herself. 

This week, when a blood test came back not as positive as she had hoped it would, was one of those times. Reminding herself that she just ran a half-marathon on Sunday, that she is able to get out and do all the things she loves to do physically, that her recent scan bore positive news, that all other blood tests to this point have gone in the right direction -- that all was a little harder this week. But she's doing it. She amazes me. Again and again.

And as for all of you -- you are all taiko drummers, at the bottom of the hill on Battery Street at the Vermont City Marathon in Burlington, beating the hell out of those big drums and helping to propel Carol up the hill while she goes through her own journey. Thank you so much.

One of my uncles gave me The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner when I was eleven or twelve, and I remember wondering why he gave it to me and whether he thought I was a runner (I wasn't), or if he thought I might be a runner at some point, so I had better be prepared for those bouts of loneliness that came to all long-distance runners at some point.  

Thanks to Uncle Vin, Jerry, John, Jack, Rich, or Bob for the book, and to all of you, for lessening the impact of that loneliness.

Moments of Joy

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, 

or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” 

― Abraham Lincoln

Carol took our dog Callie down to the lake today, where she threw sticks into the water for Callie to retrieve and cavort in the waves. Those simple moments, when something pure and real stands right in front of you -- I wish we could encapsulate them, keep them as more than a memory, as a counterweight, perhaps. I guess by continuing to experience those moments, we do just that. For me, the moment she told me of her outing was one of those counterweights as well -- a moment of joy in her joy in seeing the dog's joy.

Speaking of weight, I'll be dragging mine around the Shelburne half marathon this weekend with Carol. Her umpteenth half marathon, or something like that, but my first. I'm sure I'll see some of you passing me this Sunday. I may have to stash a bike somewhere around mile 6 or so.

Carol started her latest round of treatment yesterday. She looks good, and she feels good, and that's good.

Off Week

In the absence of treatment this past week, Carol has been feeling much more like herself, with one exception -- on Thursday morning, she had a little fip in her stomach, despite the fact that she wasn't going anywhere near a needle that day, and the closest she would get to giving blood would be if she cut herself (again) while cutting onions. This has now happened on each off week (the little stomach flip, not cutting her finger! Though that happened on an off week, too...). By late afternoon, she's been back to feeling good, and even more so because she didn't have treatment on that day. The power of the mind is great.

This mental energy that has also helped buoy her so well along this path. For making sure she got her mind off upcoming scan results, for sending a quick note, sharing a photo, thank you. It means so much. Thanks to all of you, she heads into the next round feeling good and feeling loved.

It's Been a While...

It's been a little while since Carol has received a full dose of treatment for all three sessions in a round.  This past round, which ended on Thursday, was just that. She looked good, and all of the bloodwork they looked at told a similar story, so she has received a full dose for these past three weeks. For right now, she's feeling the effects of this treatment pretty strongly. But by early next week, the symptoms will have lessened, and it will make this upcoming week off all the sweeter.

She spent a healthy chunk of Friday at the studio, which I take to be a very good sign indeed. For now, she's concentrating on small paintings; there seems to be a demand for those right now. Soon, though, Scout hopes to turn back to larger canvases. I love to see her creative and emotional energy come out in her art, and it warms my heart to know that she feels good enough to do what she loves.

“If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.”
                 -- Emile Zola

No Spread, No Growth

To paraphrase a friend, "I know shrinkage is even better, but no spread, no growth is the report one always wants to hear."  She certainly wasn't talking about a Seinfeld episode.  No, this was in reference to the report from Carol's most recent scan, which I was able to share with Carol last night when she got home from a wonderful night out with friends.

The scan showed that there has been no new movement or new growth in her condition.  In other words, the treatment is doing just what it is designed to do: it is bringing down the marker numbers and preventing tumor cells from multiplying. This means that Carol can remain on the same regimen for treatment, which, comparatively speaking, is really good. She will be able to continue her schedule of three weeks on, one week off, with the same medicine.  Without the anxiety of waiting for her appointment today to receive the results of this scan, Carol went into treatment in a much better frame of mind. 

I have to believe that her better frame of mind was also due to the thoughtfulness of friends and family, knowing so well how to comfort her (and me) through all of this. Really -- they should give out medals for all of the kindnesses we have received. Please consider yourselves medallioned. Thank you.

Back, Away Again, and Back. Again.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

                                                                                          -- Unknown

Back from Costa Rica last Wednesday, start of Round 4 of treatments on Thursday, down to Connecticut on Friday, and back again on Sunday. After a week of riding our one-speeds around the coastal towns of Caribbean Costa Rica, all this traveling is enough to take a lot out of me. And when I think of how much more it impacts Carol physically, I think I'm about the biggest wimp. Not to mention the psychological stress of heading back to treatment. She's inspiring to me in so many ways.

It's been a few weeks since Carol received a full dose of treatment, so this weekend was a little more challenging. Still, it was a good sign that she looked so good after being away that they felt she could easily handle that full dose once again.

Huge thanks to family and friends we saw down in Connecticut this weekend. The love you share is so appreciated. Uncle Rich -- we loved your letter, but we still missed you and hope you feel better very soon.

Away

This week's treatment?

Let's see....

Yesterday, it was riding bikes to Punta Uva to go snorkeling. Today, walking through the rainforest that sidles up to the beach in the National Park in Cahuita. Tomorrow, we head to the Jaguar Rescue Center in Playa Chiquita. Then a long horseback ride along the beach, stopping for pipa fresa. 

The physical and psychological distance we have put between ourselves and recent events has been enormous these past few days. The Caribbean coast of Costa Rica has helped us feel worlds away.  Let's hope this kind of treatment continues!

Shorter days, longer hours

It definitely feels like autumn these days in Vermont.  The days have been crisp, the nights bracing, and the heat is replacing air conditioning in many people's daily commutes.  I have always loved this time of year, but this fall... this fall is different.  The days are definitely shorter, but some of the hours seem to stretch on far too long.

Carol finished her third round of treatment this week. Again, they believed that she is tolerating the treatments very well.  She celebrated the end of the round by going out this morning and running nine miles and putting me to shame.  And that's her on treatment for her current condition.  Sheesh.

This weekend we'll lay low -- she's usually not feeling at her peak after the anti-nausea medicine they put in her treatment wears off -- and Monday we head to Boston to catch a plane to Costa Rica.  That relaxation will be the real celebration of the end of three rounds of treatment.  Once we return, there will be a new round of treatment, but for right now, Carol's on vacation from all that.

We both continue to be buffeted by the wonderful support of you all, and by so many others whose kindnesses are legion.  Thank you for everything, and I truly do wish you all a most joyful fall season.  It will be winter before we realize it.

Glimmers

Like the light on the water, we take these comments and secret them away; they make us feel so good.

"It's an aphorism, but good responders do better.  And Carol is certainly what we would call a good responder."

"She looks great.  This stuff is just acting like a Pac-Man on those cells."

These were two comments from people at treatment yesterday, and they put Carol (and me) in a better place.  Since starting treatments back up last week, she has had the Art Hop, been back to running nine miles on Sunday, had quite a hankering for ice cream, and really enjoyed her meals. And now it's Concord grape season. Ahhh....

After next week's treatment, we're going away for a bit.  We're headed to a little place on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica. It should be a perfect way to get away and recharge before the start of the next round. Callie will get a vacation, too, staying with four other friendly dogs in Underhill.

Coming back will be bittersweet. We'll head down to Connecticut for my mom's memorial service, but it will also be so good to see family we haven't seen in too long.

Driving, Driving, Driving...

Logging 40+ hours in the car over the last 5 days, we managed to tearfully drop Eliza off at St. Olaf, spend some wonderful time with Susan in Minneapolis, visit Gretchen in Chicago, and eat lots of interstate rest-stop food that pretty much all tasted alike.  And we still made it back home in time for Carol's treatment today, where we were able, through the marvels of modern technology, to see Eliza playing at the college's convocation!

It's been wonderful to have Carol out running again the last couple weeks.  Especially this past week, the effects from the last round of treatment waned, giving her more enthusiasm to be out doing whatever she felt like doing.  As she begins this next round of treatment, I know she'll begin to feel it, but I hope I can remind her enough of these times when she feels relatively normal, ready to put on her running shoes and head out the door into the bright daylight, with a smile on her face.

Thanks to everyone who made it so easy for us to head out to Minnesota these past few days, which also happened to have coincided with the beginning of school and the last few days before the Art Hop.  Hoo boy!

Round 2 -- One for the Books -- Time to Hit the Trails

Yesterday marked the last day of treatment in this second round for Carol.  Despite the fact that some of her levels were a little low from the last couple weeks (to be expected), they plunked her down and hooked up the IV bag of medicine.  Now she heads to an off-week.  Time to let her body build back up, and yes, to get her running shoes back on.

After treatment, we headed to a follow-up appointment with her surgeon from 5 weeks ago.  His report gave her a green light to move back into active mode, with restraint.  Not sure Scout fully knows what that last part means, but I'm not going to hold her back.  It was so good to see her come out of that office (after she made a couple wrong turns) with a smile on her face.  That's been a rare thing this summer.

Late next week, after Carol's birthday, we head out to Minnesota to bring Eliza back to St. Olaf.  This summer with her has been wonderful; it will be almost as hard as last year to bring her back.  Then it's back to school, painting, the South End Art Hop, and life as we now know it.  Oh, the chocolate....

Thanks to all for everything.  Even the guy I flipped the bird on 189 the other day.

Such Good Friends, and a Growing Family

      

The picture may seem familiar, but it's not usually on a t-shirt! Members of Carol's 100 on 100 group will be sporting these special t-shirts tomorrow as they head cover the distance from Stowe to Okemo.  Sylvie came by last night to show us the shirts, and we were both in tears from this gift.  Carol will be with them in spirit, and her art and words will travel on their shirts tomorrow.  Wishing everyone good weather, a good run, and a good night's sleep afterwards.

Yesterday, as Carol was getting her treatment, she was able to FaceTime with my sister Sarah, who was in labor.  Before the afternoon was over, baby Bruce had arrived! We are so happy for Sarah, Jon, and Harper, and we can't wait to meet the little guy.

Carol has one more week of treatment in this round.  She'll also have a follow-up appointment from her surgery to find out when she might be able to run again (though she did say that she was planning to take Callie to East Woods today, and no, I couldn't come. Hmmm....).  Once this round is over, we are taking Eliza back to school, then another round begins, and the Art Hop comes around.

As always, summer has flown.  I am tempted to say that I can't see this particular summer go quickly enough, but this summer has also been full of pure, radiant kindness the likes of which we don't often get to see.  And that has come from all of you.  Thank you.

Treatment -- Round 2

Hi everyone,

It's now been a little over 3 weeks since Carol's surgery.  In that time, I've only had to scold her once or twice (or a few more times) not to overdo things.  If you know her, you know that she has a hard time with waiting.  We'll just say that she's enthusiastic.

After getting the green light from the doctors that she hadn't been overdoing it too much, Carol started the second round of her treatment yesterday.  Luckily, this time around, she has an idea of how it will make her feel, so she's more prepared.  I know that she would much rather be getting ready to head to North Carolina to help Sarah, Jon, and Harper with the imminent arrival of baby Bruce, or meeting with her 100-on-100 group to take care of last-minute arrangements.  I am just so awed by how she's handling all of this.

Neither she, nor I, could be doing any of this without the phenomenal support of you, our friends and family. Even if we don't take you up on it, because we haven't figured out yet how to do that without feeling like we're imposing, thank you so much for every offer.  Thank you for that, and for so much more.

Anyone need a tray table?

Thanks for all of the offers of tray tables!  We're all set to host a breakfast-in-bed party. 

The surgery was, well, major abdominal surgery. Much to Carol's chagrin, it will take 6-8 weeks before she's out running again. It's now been 2 weeks, and she has an appointment with her oncologist tomorrow to follow up and look at next steps. 

Thanks for sending little notes of support and encouragement, whether to Carol directly or through me (I do pass them along to her). 

Headed Home Today!

Now that she's had her fill of cookies, croissants, chocolates, coffee, and ice cream that you all have brought by (not to mention the liquid diet she was on for a couple days), Carol's heading home today. The people here have been great, but it's time. She'll be back in about 10 days to get her staples out and talk with the surgeon about her condition. 

People have been so great about offers to help. Now I'm going to go ahead and ask for some:

  -- if you're nearby and you have a type of breakfast-in-bed tray you don't think you'll be using for a couple weeks, think we could borrow it? 

  -- meals are good. We like meals. 

Thanks so much, everyone, for your thoughts, prayers, energies, and every other thing, little or big, that you've been sending Carol's way. They're all big. 

"The secret to living the life of your dreams is to start living the life of your dreams today, in every little way you possibly can."

     --Mike Dooley

Recovering nicely

Hi all,

It's 8:20 this evening, and it has been a long day! Carol came out of surgery late this morning, and everything went smoothly. She's now safely in her private (for the time being) room on the 6th floor at Fletcher Allen, resting pretty comfortably. 

Thanks, everyone, for the warm thoughts. We'll keep you posted as we move forward. 

Tomorrow's Wednesday...

Carol has passed all of her required tests, and she's all set to have her surgery at Fletcher Allen bright and early Wednesday morning.  For those of you who know her sleeping habits, let's just say that 6:00 a.m. is not her preferred time to be doing anything but snoozing.

The reception at Shelburne Vineyard was wonderful.  Thanks for your good wishes, your support, and your strength.  They all help.

Cramming to pass a test on Monday

Despite the fact that it has been a week without treatment, things have been busy.

After meeting with the surgeon early this week, Carol is scheduled to have a hysterectomy the middle of next week.  That is, if she passes the succession of tests that lead up to the surgery.  She has already aced the EKG.  Next up is the dreaded phone interview, but this one should be no problem.  Then, on Monday, the blood test that makes sure her red and white blood counts have rebounded enough from treatment to give her the ok for surgery.  She's studying hard for this one, downing buckets of good foods, staying hydrated, and trying to get lots of rest.

As ever, thank you to everyone who reads this, everyone who cares, everyone who wants to help but doesn't feel that they know how.  Believe me, you do.

Round 1 is over

This week marks the end of the first cycle of Carol's treatment.  Her only visit to the doctor's office this week was to get a quick poke in the arm.

Next week, she'll meet with a surgeon to talk about having some troublesome organs taken out of the picture, which, strangely enough, is how this all got started.  That may now happen within the next couple of weeks.

In the meantime, Carol is enjoying a respite from treatment and looking forward to a visit with friends from Alaska.

Thanks, as always, for your caring, your kindnesses, and your understanding throughout this whole process. Hope everyone has a good long weekend.

"I'm going to have my Milk of Magnesia with a prune chaser"

Ok, enough about that....

One of the plans we had this summer was to head down to North Carolina when my sister Sarah is due to give birth in early August.  Then we learned that life had made other plans.  Instead, Sarah came to see us for the past several days.  Special thanks to you, Sarah, for being who you are and bringing such compassion.  It really was wonderful to have you here.

Today marked the third week of treatment for Carol.  Her white blood cells have responded like the champ that she is, keeping up with this weekly regimen.  Next week should be a week off from treatment to give her immune system time to gear up for the next round.  Emotionally, her challenge continues to be to live within each day, within each moment, without letting her mind get too far ahead of her body.

Thanks so much for your thoughts, your prayers, your dinners, your mantras, your stupid movies, your ways of getting her out for a run or back into the studio, and every other manner of graceful sharing that reminds Carol that she's got a big team behind her.

My favorite C word: Carol

Hi everyone,

Welcome to the first Carol Update.  If you don't know what the hell these updates are even about, please contact me (stemadden14@gmail.com) and I can just fill you in.

Feel free to share these updates with others who might be asking how Carol's doing, or invite them (by having them contact me) to be part of these mailings.  Also, feel free to drop Carol a note of support if you like, but please don't feel offended if she doesn't get back to you -- she's always had a hard time keeping on top of emails under normal circumstances, and these are anything but normal circumstances.  They do mean a lot to her, though.  Thanks.

To everyone: thank you so much for your support and encouragement.  It means the world to us.

A quick lesson in vocabulary:

CANCER -----> CONDITION

CHEMOTHERAPY -----> TREATMENT

There -- that's out of the way.  

Carol had her second treatment today, administered by the fair Margaret.  In the week between the two treatments, she ran 3 days, biked 3 days, and pooped once -- in the whole week.  Another undesirable "C" word....  Just one of the side effects of the treatment -- the others haven't been that bad, as of yet.

Easy to say, difficult to put into practice, but it is so worth it: learning to take things one day at a time.