May 17, 2007
Last Monday was the scheduled day for a return to Chemotherapy; all three children were present with Charles and myself for the visit with the oncologist because of the concerns about the 11th round of therapy. My tongue still had not returned to normal taste capacity, and my energy had just begun to return five days prior to the visit. I was told that the possibility of nerve damage to the taste buds did exist, since the tests for other causes had not turned up anything unusual, however, there was no prior mention of this happening as a side effect of the Vidaza. As I have mentioned previously, there are no records since only a few people have been as blessed as myself with continued life. We discussed the summer plans of a trip to New Zealand in July and the cataract removal and lens implant which has to take place when the blood readings are good.
Always, the medical community seems to be interested in helping one to achieve the best possible quality of life, and to this end, the Chemotherapy was delayed until the first of June to give the nerve endings a bit more time to possibly recover, and the cataract surgery was moved up to next week so that it could occur while the blood was strong. After the June round, there will be no more chemo until returning from New Zealand in August. A bone marrow aspiration will be done to read where everything stands at that time; the specter of a disease trying to escape the confines of the medicine and to return with intent to kill hangs in the background. From what is known, if it does come back, the chances of beating it back again are far more difficult. In spite of this rather grim “battle” aspect, our meeting with the doctor was cheerful and included laughter and delight at the respite from treatment.
Having the entire clan present across the Mother’s Day weekend was pure pleasure; the granddaughters had grown in stature and spirit, and our children appear to be doing “life” with creativity and élan. Janna and family stayed at the Guest House at Concordia University – this place had been our home for the first ten years of our living in Seward. They were the only occupants and were given the master key so that all rooms could be thrown open and toured. This not only opened the physical doors, but also the doors to many memories – the footed bathtub painted purple and filled with a red bean bag chair to make a TV viewing spot, the pets, games, parties and fun of family growing up were reviewed. Old picture albums were found and stories were told, events were trimmed or embellished according to the remembering mind. At the end of a wonderful day and after the supper together, the children were off on a treasure hunt, running headlong into the evening. I started treasure hunts a long time ago, and this time, I had the treasure all assembled, but John-paul had to plant the clues
And Alphie was in the midst of it all. One of the six year old twins astonished all of us by walking up to the dog, reaching past his huge mouth and taking him by the collar. “Come with me, Alphie” she instructed, and led him into the next room where she pushed him down. Alphie was totally compliant and appeared to delight in the attention showered upon him; he lay down flat and sighed hugely. We were in awe of Fiona’s mastering of this creature who is over twice her size – she does not have a dog of her own because of allergies to pet hair in the family, but her instinctual dealing with Alphie had us thinking “Dog Whisperer II” right here in our own house.
To Life! Hallelujah!