The End of 2009

Many people are anxious to ring in the New Year and put 2009 behind them. “Out with the old, in with the new,” they say. Some people would like to go so far as to forget that this year ever even happened.

Have you heard about the industrial sized shredder placed in Times Square? People can literally shred their bitter memories of the past twelve months. Just toss in momentos from failed relationships, bad choices, missed opportunities ... slips of paper documenting lost employment, financial hardships, medical bills. The idea is all the “bad stuff” goes in the shredder and comes out an unrecognizable heap of trash that gets carted off, never to be seen again. Ram yesterday through a shredder and abracadabra, a fresh start.

The “trash” of our past cannot be made to magically disappear though. It is that very “trash” that shapes us, defines us, makes us who we are.

By some accounts, 2009 wasn’t a very good year for us. But what may not have been taken into consideration was that in 2009 . . .

• We experienced the birth of our incredible baby boy and have watched him in amazement every day since.
• We’ve worked on blending two wonderful families, a continual work in progress of evolving roles and relationships.
• We’ve been surrounded by the love and support of family and friends.
• We sought out and found top medical care, and the insurance allowed us to do so.
• We’ve met remarkably kind people along our many paths who have helped lighten our load.
• We’ve managed to find laughter no matter where we've gone or what we've done.
• We were reminded of what is important in life and to value and treasure those things.
• We were blessed in that we were able to face each challenge and celebrate each victory together. Having each other sometimes makes all the difference in the world.
• We heard the magical words “No Evidence of Disease.”

• While most would agree that the diagnosis of cancer isn’t a good thing (I would concur), without that diagnosis, treatment cannot begin. You can’t treat what you don’t know is there. E. is fighting and E. is winning. And that is nothing but good.

And I don't want any of that to disappear. I want to hold those memories tight . . . they are important to me and part of me. 2009 was, most definitely, monumental. It is with a little bit of sadness that I say goodbye to another year.

Hand in hand, side by side, we are ready for 2010. We know that no matter what happens, we’ll experience it together. We’re ready. It’s going to be another amazing year. I just know it.

Happy New Year!

S.

Cards

We are just about ready to send out our Christmas cards New Year's cards.

There are so many of you that we'd like to send a card to, but we are sorely lacking in the address department. Please drop us a quick e-mail or text with your address. We'd really appreciate it.

Come on . . . help us out. And maybe, just maybe, we can get these cards out before they become Martin Luther King Day cards.

I said maybe.

S.

Snowbaby

Not too thrilled.

Finally a smile.

Waving to his fans.

Live life!

We had our consultation with the surgeon at MD Anderson yesterday.

His first words when he walked into the room were "Looks like you're cancer free." Music to our ears!

He explained that when someone presents with high lymph node involvement (like that right shoulder lymph node of E.'s), surgery is usually never offered. He did say though that they do sometimes still consider surgery for younger otherwise healthy folks like E. What is required is a "period of stability," which means 3 to 6 months of clear scans and no cancer.

He explained that the biggest risk is for the cancer to come back somewhere else, like the liver, lungs, etc. That's where the worry lies. He stated that he was very impressed with how E. responded to the chemotherapy, which was very encouraging.

The plan is to return to Texas in three months. At that time, E. will undergo another Endoscopic Ultrasound as well as another PET/CT scan. If he is still all CLEAR, surgery may be offered!

I asked what E.'s job is for the next three months {anticipating an answer about eating healthy, gaining weight, increasing activity, getting in shape}. He looked at us with a big smile and said, "Live life. Your job is to live life." LOVE IT!

A good reminder for all of us. Our jobs are to LIVE LIFE. So friends . . . go! Go live. Go enjoy. Go make every day count.

Live life!

S.

Amazing

What an amazing day!

First of all, let me explain what happened with the child care situation. One of my best high school buddies (who lives in California) knew someone who once lived in Houston (but no longer does). Anyways, that person still had some connections in Houston, which is how the wonderful Miss Georgia became Peanut's babysitter. She drove AN HOUR to us, battled downtown parking, came to our hotel room, hung out with Peanut and even brought us holiday bread. And she didn't even know us! She's coming back on Wednesday too. Amazing.

Then, one of the above folks put E.'s name on some magical list. He suddenly became some sort of VIP at the hospital worthy of preferential treatment. The usual appointment process takes about 4 hours, the majority of that spent waiting (from the lobby to the waiting room to patient room). This time, we were in and out in 28 minutes. 28 minutes! Amazing.

And finally, E.'s PET scan results are GOOD. The PET was all clear! Even that pesky upper right clavicular lymph node was no longer seen. This means E. gets a well-deserved and much-desired three month break. While he's still "at risk," continuation of the same treatment at this point is not going to give him any advantage. In another three months, we'll return to MD Anderson for another PET and another Endoscopic Ultrasound. What happens at that point will depend on those results. It could mean more "wait and see," additional chemotherapy with the same protocol, new chemotherapy with different medications or possibly surgery. For now, E.'s job is to gain weight (high protein, low-fat and low-carb diet), increase activity and just get generally healthier. Amazing.

A totally amazing day.

It makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over.

S.

King Peanut

Look how big he's gotten!

Remember back in June when he was just a little nut?

On the medical front, today was PET/CT day. These days usually begin with paperwork, followed by a long wait. Then "PET prep," followed by a long wait. Then "injection and localization," followed by a long wait. Then the actual PET, which usually takes about 15 minutes. All in all though, the whole procedure usually takes about 6 hours or so.

Imagine my surprise when I kissed E. good-bye at 9:30am and received a call from him at 11:05am that he was all done! Woohoo!

For some reason, labs can't be done until Sunday. And, of course, we won't find out anything about the PET or the labs until the doctor's appointment on Monday.

In the meantime, we're gonna enjoy our weekend. Hope y'all do too! (Said in my best Texan drawl.)

S.

Who's in charge here?

I'd like to file a complaint with whoever is in charge here.

Whoever thought it would be a great idea to take a direct flight to Houston obviously never considered:

1. that direct does not mean non-stop
2. that stops without changing planes means you stay on the plane (go figure)
3. that staying on the plane means no grabbing a bite to eat (and 12 mini-packages of peanuts do not constitute a meal)
4. that two stops from Reno to Houston makes for a very long time stuck on a plane, especially with a squirmy, active, impatient 9 month old

(On a brighter note, direct flights do guarantee you don't miss any connecting flights . . . which we would have considering the delays we faced today.)


Whoever thought that short-term child care is always available at MD Anderson obviously never considered:

1. that changes to that service would be posted on the website (no need to look when you already know how it works)
2. that the hospital would be totally closed to children under age 12 because of the threat of H1N1 (like they can't even walk in the door)
3. that because of the threat of H1N1, the two short-term child care centers would be closed until further notice


Whoever is in charge needs to be demoted, that's for sure.

Houston Bound

It is time for us to head back to Texas. E. has a series of tests, including a PET/CT, scheduled for Friday. Then, we have appointments with doctors next Monday and again next Wednesday. We're anxious to hear what they have to say.

Aside from the anxiety we're feeling from the pending medical tests and appointments, the weather is also adding a bit more anxiety. Most of our arrangements are contingent upon the weather. If the weather is bad, then our flight might get delayed or cancelled (if E. misses his tests, then the doctor appointments become pointless). On the homefront, bad weather could really wreak havoc on our plans . . . if the weather is bad, there might be a snow day . . . if the weather is bad, our friends might not be able to travel from out of town . . . if the weather is bad, grandma might not be able to drive to our house. All that translates to potential childcare crises as each time slot is scheduled to be covered by a dear friend or family member. IF the weather is bad, things MIGHT happen.

There are many things out of our control in the world. Cancer. PET scans. The weather. (Just to name a few.) We can't stress and worry about all the IFs and the MIGHTs at every turn. So, we'll continue to try to control the one thing we can . . . our attitudes.

So, here's to positive attitudes! And good weather. And clear PET scans. And no cancer.

Yeah, all of that.

S.

Tis the season

Done

Done.
Finished.
Finito.

This was it! The final three chemotherapy pills went down the hatch this morning. And none too soon either!

E. has proclaimed 6 rounds in a row of this chemotherapy protocol as "too much."

He was too tired.
He was too sick.
He was too cold.
He was too crampy.
He was too achy.
He was too miserable.

Now it's time for a well-deserved break! While jetting off to Jamaica isn't on the agenda, a Friday night Christmas party is! It's a good start at least. :)

S.