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