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.