So Tired

Dishes make me feel like this too. I totally get it.

What I don't get is how she managed to stay on the stool after she fell asleep. When I first walked in the kitchen and saw her like this my heart stopped!

I'm thinking that perhaps I missed a few "I'm tired" cues that would have led me to put her to bed before it came to this. But since I didn't, we now have this great picture!

Marriage By The Numbers

Years Married Today: 15
Children Born: 7
Children Loved But Not Born: 1
Communities Lived In: 2
Houses Owned: 3
Dogs Loved (or Endured, depending on which one of us you are): 2
Other Animals Housed: 2 cats, 1 hamster, 1 guinea pig, 4 fish
Trials Endured: A Few
Trials to Come: Only God Knows--but we'll survive them together!
Blessings to Count: Innumerable
Duration Ahead: 'Till Death Do Us Part

Happy Anniversary, Jay--I love you!

It's All Part of Nailing the Cancer, I Guess

I have had it pretty easy through this whole cancer thing. A little fatigue, a little nausea, some anemia...at worst, it's been like the intense part of first trimester pregnancy. I recently told a friend that I have managed to contract the Disney version of Stage IV cancer, if there is a such a thing, and for this I am truly grateful.

HOWEVER, today I feel the need to log my first real complaint about all of this. This week, after treatment 10, my fingernails have suddenly betrayed me. I know, I know, you are thinking, "Seriously, is she really going to complain about her FINGERNAILS when she is giving cancer a fatal blow with minimal side effects?" Well, yes, I am. And then I'm going to feel ashamed about it later.

I have always had strong, long fingernails. This was true even before my pregnancies, but childbearing served to enhance their growth and strength further. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was proud of my fingernails, but I will say that I had come to comfortably rely on them as tools. I used them to pry things open, parse and cut things and generally make my life easier.

This has all ended for me. All of a sudden, my nails have begun bending backward, splitting to the quick and breaking off, from simple activities such as rotating the laundry or even reaching for my shoes. So, today, I mourned their loss and cut them all back to the quick. Sniff.

As I gaze at my stubby fingers or find myself reaching for a knife to do the job I once could do unassisted I will try my hardest to remember how lucky I am in all other aspects of this. But I'm allowed a brief mourning period for this small sign of my loss of health, aren't I?

I thought you'd agree.

Eyes Wide Open

As I was praying my rosary this morning (as you all know, that is when I have my "deep thoughts"), I was thinking about why Jesus was at first unrecognizable to his disciples after his resurrection.

Mary Magdalene thought Jesus was the gardener when she saw him outside of the tomb. The seven disciples by the Sea of Tiberius did not recognize him when he asked about their fishing. The men walking to Emmaus had a lengthy conversation with him about his own crucifixion without realizing it was him. It was only later that their eyes were opened and they all realized that they had been talking to the resurrected Jesus.

What could be the reason for this, I wondered? Why would so many not recognize right away and need their eyes opened for them to see what was right in front of them?

I did not wonder long before I knew the answer: Jesus is in all the people around us, whether we can see him or not. Often we need our eyes opened to see him, but he is there. Not in body, as was the case with the befuddled disciples, but just as real.

He is there in our spouses, our parents, our children, our friends. It is easiest to see him there, in those who are good to us or who treat us as we imagine Jesus would--with loving care and concern. But he is also in those who don't treat us as they should. Those who drive us crazy, those who we judge.

Our eyes are opened to his presence in these difficult people when we allow ourselves to see. We see the opportunities these people provide us to work on our patience, our compassion, and our Christian kindness. We see the needs that these people have that cause them to act the way they do, needs that we can often help fill. The need for acceptance, love, or understanding. When we see these thing, we see Jesus in everyone, and our eyes are opened.

Is this easy? Of course not! It is nearly impossible. But nothing is impossible with God. Lord, may my eyes be opened to see.

Further Evidence I'm Failing Completely As A Parent

Joey: I'm bored.

Me: Don't ever say that in this house or you'll quickly find yourself doing manual labor.

A pause...

Joey: OK, then. I'm unsatisfied with today's entertainment.

Relief

Scan results just came in...

I am stable, with virtually no change from prior scan. This is fantastic news--may I continue to enjoy this kind of news for decades to come.

It is always nerve-wracking waiting for scan results, but this time was worse than usual. About two weeks ago I discovered a new lump in my breast, similar to and in the same location as the most stubborn one I had before. I was hoping it was all in my head, but my nurse practitioner confirmed it and sent me for scans right away, a week and a half ahead of schedule.

I did not share this news with anyone, as I did not want to take the people who love me and suffer along with me on a roller coaster ride of worry and waiting. I figured bad news wouldn't go away, so I could share it when it was confirmed rather than suspected, thereby alleviating some stress for those who I so hate to hurt. As you all know, I am usually quite open so it was nearly as difficult for me to keep my mouth shut about all of this as it was to wait, but I am glad I did. See how much worry I saved you all?

So, when the results came in today with no metabolic activity or masses noted, it was not what I expected at all, and it would be difficult to exaggerate the relief that flowed through me upon hearing the news. I was prepared for all sorts of things--new, nastier chemo, immediate surgery, short life-span, you name it. I had not even considered "stable scan" as one of the likely outcomes, so I am nothing short of delighted.

As for the lump? I don't know for sure what it is, but since it appeared at the same time I came out of my chemically-induced menopause, it is likely hormonal in nature. Perhaps it is scar tissue from the previous mass that will flare up monthly. Perhaps it is necrotic tissue that is settling. Whatever it is, it is not cancer, and I feel as if I have been given a new chance at life all over again.

This scare has been good for me. Over the past few months of good news, I have slowly come to take for granted that I am on a path to being cured. It is never good to feel confident about something like this, and I have been shocked into remembering this. I am back to being supremely grateful for each nine week block of "good scan" and not looking toward anything else. I am more thankful than ever for my faith, and I thank God above all for this good news.

I will always worry that the cancer is returning--I will live in it's shadow forever, no matter how well I am doing. Any pain I have is cause for concern, and any lump or swollen lymph node will be a major drama. But as long as my faith remains strong, I will not be afraid. Concern is quite different than fear, as it is productive. I can watch for early signs, take better care of myself and continue on my medication because I am concerned about my health. But fear, which is pointless, is not part of my plan--and this is a fruit of faith.

Thanks for your continued prayers for my healing. They are obviously working!

What A Blessing!

Today our parish community gathered together outside in a ground blessing mass on the property recently acquired for our new church building. And what a blessing it was.

An estimated 2500 people attended what we believe to be the largest mass the Antelope Valley has ever had. Four priests concelebrated, three deacons and our pastoral intern served the mass, and voices and instruments from all four of our diverse music ministries joined together as one. The Knights of Columbus turned out in full regalia, adding to the ceremony of it all. It was nothing short of exhilarating.

And hot. But back to the exhilarating part...

Each parish family in attendance brought with them a small jar filled with dirt from their own home. As the gifts were being prepared, the families came up one by one and poured their dirt into a large clay jar. This dirt, representing the individual families that make up our church, will be used in the foundation of the new building. I was brought to tears many times during the mass, but most decidedly while watching these families, many of whom I know so well, offer their piece of the church's foundation. I am a sucker for symbolism, and this mass was chock full of it.

The very best part I did not even see--it was later reported to me by several who had seen it. At the moment of the consecration, three white doves flew over the altar. It seemed, to those who witnessed it, that it must have been planned, so perfectly timed it was. Indeed, it was planned, but not by those who arranged for the mass! Hearing about it gave me chills. Indeed the ground has been blessed today.

I can't wait to see the new church take shape. In the meantime, it's not just the ground that has been blessed--it is all of us who are part of this historic event.

Slick

On my way to UCLA on Monday my doctor called me. This is highly unusual, particularly since I had an appointment to see him 30 minutes from then. I didn't figure it could be for any good reason and, indeed, it wasn't.

He proceeded to tell me that he had just learned from the medicine manufacturer that there had been a contamination of silicone in all the medicine of a particular lot, the lot that all of my doses so far had come from. Kindly, he explained that the amount of silicone I received intravenously was 100 times less than the amount known to be toxic to humans but, of course, he had to let me know since it was an unexpected ingredient and because it is probably not generally a good idea to send unregulated silicone coursing through one's circulatory system.

Naturally, I questioned him as to what I might expect, what I should look out for, etc. He did not really know but assured me that any physical complaint I have will be looked at carefully for its possible involvement with this. Bottom line is, he doesn't really expect me to be affected by this one way or the other but did need to let me know.

Later, when I saw him in the office, he half-jokingly said that he hoped it wasn't the silicone that had caused my tumors to shrink. He went on to explain that, really, oncology was all about injecting people with toxic chemicals in the hopes that they will kill the cancer without killing the patient. So, there is nothing revolutionary about being infused with silicone, even accidentally, and perhaps it has even contributed to the positive effect this medicine has had one me. In fact, he went so far as to ask the manufacturer to hold rather than discard this lot in case the efficacy drops with the removal of the silicone. Educated trial and error, that's what it all is at the end of the day.

As for me, I am not alarmed in the slightest about this turn of events, simply because of what my alternative is. Would I have skipped receiving this medicine if I had known? NO! Would I stop taking it now because I think the manufacturer might make a similar mistake? NO! This medicine is not a "nice to have". It is keeping me alive, additives and all, so I have no beef. As part of his legal obligation to me, my doctor had to formally ask me if I now wished to be removed from the trial. I actually laughed.

So, I am now thinking of all the great things that might come of having a body full of silicone. Well-oiled joints? Veins like slip-n-slides? A heart that just got a great lube job? Who knows? But it's kind of exciting to be a guinea pig.

Yet Another Benefit of Cancer?

When I picked Joey up from school today he asked me if he could go to a friend's house. I said he could but that he had to be home by 6:30 because we were all going to sit down for dinner together.

This is something we used to do regularly before I began treatments. Now, unfortunately, this is pretty rare for our family. We have become a group of "grab and go" or "eat at the kitchen island" people. I do not like this at all and am trying to get us back to regular, or at least not infrequent, family dinners at the table. Of course, this requires energy, something I have been lacking more often than not over the past six months.

The kids, for some reason I cannot understand at all, hate it when we all sit down for dinner together. They fight this tooth and nail, and complain loudly whenever they hear it might be on the horizon. I, on the other hand, think it's great. We all talk about our days, what's going on, and things that are coming up.

Tonight I made, literally, the ONLY dish that everyone in our family likes--Chicken Almendras (chicken in an almond and tomatillo sauce). I thought this might ease everyone back into family dinner.

When I told Joey we were having dinner together, his first comment was, "Awww, man!" Shortly after he added, "What are we having?" When I told him, he said it was almost worth it, but not quite.

After a few moments he asked, "Mom, when is your next treatment?" I answered, "Tuesday, why?" He grinned and didn't say anything, so it dawned on me--I am too tired the week of treatment to cook, so we are definitely not sitting down together for dinner on treatment weeks.

I laughed and said, "Do I have a little too much energy for you right now?" He admitted I did and then said, "But when you have treatment I don't have any clean clothes for a few days, so I don't know which is better."

Who knew that there was yet another unexpected benefit of my cancer, at least as far as my children are concerned--fewer family dinners! But maybe clean jeans trump it. Just maybe.

Lindsey the Lung

Warning: shameless bragging about to commence, but this mom is totally delighted.

Lindsey was in her class play on Friday, and she was great! I had no idea she could sing so well. I know this sounds crazy since she sings all the time around the house, but as I know from experience, singing with a microphone is a whole different ballgame. I knew she could carry a tune, but until I heard her amplified, I didn't know how clear her voice was. She loves to sing, so I am so happy for her that she does it well. Singing will hopefully bring her great joy in her life, as it does to me in mine.

It wasn't just Lindsey who did well--the entire 4th grade class turned out an amazing performance. I found myself completely entertained during the entire show. It was funny, the kids were all perfect in their roles and the whole thing was obviously very well rehearsed. Nice job, kids!

Here is a link to her song, beautifully shared by her good friend. Lindsey is the one in the red hairbows. Enjoy...I sure did!

Best Vacation Ever

Well, if there is one thing we've learned this year, it's that life can be short. So, last Saturday we said, the heck with it, let's USE all those frequent flier miles and hotel points that Jay has been racking up for the past several years and take the family to Hawaii. So, with one week's notice, we went, and, I'm so glad we did.

The thing that lit our fire was that Jay won some money last month in a programming competition that his company sponsored (great job, honey, we're so proud of you!). The contest required that he be gone over a weekend, which piggybacked with some client calls, so we endured nine long days without him. When he placed second, securing a cash prize, he decided that we should use it to do something together to make up for the time we were apart. With the hotel and flights handled with miles and points, this money covered the remaining trip expenses so it was truly one of those perfect storms that had to be taken advantage of.

For the first time we went to the island of Kauai. I've been to Maui twice and Oahu twice and, while I certainly enjoyed them, I never really understood why Hawaii is considered such a BIG DEAL. In general, I prefer the Mexican Carribean, but since the kids don't have current passports, that was not an option for us. However, after this trip I now GET Hawaii. I can't imagine that there is a more beautiful place on earth than Kauai. We stayed on the sunny southern part at Poipu Beach, but my favorite place was at the north. It was "stop the car and let the jaw hang open" beautiful. Here is a picture of our whole family at Haena Beach. Note the rainbow behind us...it is the perfect representation of how blessed our time there was.

We spent six days at the Marriott Waiohai Beach Club, a collection of time-share condos. These were perfect accomodations for us as they were equipped with full kitchens and laundry in the rooms. When we arrived, we went to Costco and stocked the kitchen, and we ate every meal right there in our little condo. Restaurants with all the kids are miserable in addition to being expensive, so this was great! Here is the view of part of the enormous pool, with some of the kids in the hot tub.


Here is Lindsey next to one of the many monk seals we saw on the island. They climbed right up on the beach to snooze, seemingly unfazed by people.


Joey's birthday was on Thursday, so for his present he and Jay went on a series of zip lines. We have some great videos of Joey zipping along with a gargantuan smile.

Tony and Bella spent some quality time together while the older kids were out snorkeling...

Here is our family at the "Grand Canyon" of Kauai. Pretty impressive. (I'm referring to the canyon, but the family isn't bad either!)

The kids had so much fun just rolling around in the surf.

Natalie wasn't too sure about the ocean, but she loved the sand.

The snorkeling was amazing right outside our hotel. I went every day we were there, swimming from reef to reef looking at all kinds of tropical fish, including Nemo. The kids saw a sea turtle while snorkeling, but I didn't see one until the day we went to Haena Beach and I spotted one swimming just offshore.

The best part wasn't even where we were, (although we couldn't have been anywhere better)...it was just that we were all together, away from everything that pulls us in nine different directions during our everyday life. It was really seeing and hearing the kids and eachother, saying "OK" instead of "not now". I will never, ever forget this time we had.

Blog Not Abandoned

Seriously. It's owner has just been on vacation.

I will post in the next day or two about our amazingly wonderful family vacation to Kauai, pictures and all.

I meant to do it today, but when I happened to log onto Google today I got sucked into the 30th anniversary of Pacman and wasted at least 15 minutes playing the pop-up game instead of completing the search I intended to do. I wonder how many hours of productivity were lost worldwide today because of this? It is possible that our GDP actually went down today as a result? I know mine did. But, truthfully, after three hours of sleep on the red-eye last night sandwiched between Bella and Natalie, I was pretty distractable today anyway. I can't blame it all on Google.

So, here's to being back in my own bed, a full night's sleep (I hope!) and lots more blogging this week. Promise!

At Least I'm Predictable

My neighbor Robin took the kids to school this morning. I sent them over to her house in a rush and then hurried out to door to drive Joey to his different school. As always, I left their lunches on the counter for them to pick up and put in their own backpacks.

As I was pulling out of my garage, I noticed Robin returning to her house, obviously for an item left behind. She, like I, always asks as she pulls away, "Does everyone have their backpacks/lunches/sweaters/belts?" and the kids have an opportunity to double check.

This morning, one of her children had left lunch behind. Sam, in his wisdom (and extensive experience), said to the crowd in the car, "My parents wouldn't have turned around to get that. They would have told me too bad." (This would only be true if we had already left the neighborhood, but that is tangential...)

Imagine my amusement, then, when the phone rang at 11:59am. It was Sam, letting me know he had left his own lunch behind, in hopes that I might do something about it. Clearly, he was too busy spouting his wisdom to check for his lunch when given the opportunity.

The call was not necessary, because he had accurately shown earlier that morning that he knew exactly what my answer would be.

Happy Mother's Day!

Bella climbed into bed with me bright and early and said excitedly, "Happy Mother's Day! What did you get me?"

It was an amusing (and apropos) way to begin a lovely day with my family. Jay made eggs benedict, among other things, for me and our two mothers, and I got to see my friend Angela received into the church during mass this morning. A good day, I'd say!

One of the best parts? The poem Lindsey composed for me. Apparently, love for the rhyme runs in the family! Here it is:

Your hair of golden brown
Your feet as big as a clown
Oops, I didn't mean to make you frown
I'll turn that frown upside down
You're my only mom around
And the smartest girl in town

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. Isn't it nice to be appreciated? (Foot comment notwithstanding, of course...)

Yep, That About Sums it Up

Bella woke from her nap, looked at me sitting next to her, and said with a touch of panic...

"Mom, I want...I want...I want...everything!"

Don't I know it.

Au Contraire

Tonight I took Joey over to Joe Walker, the middle school he will be attending this fall. He was encouraged by his teachers to apply to a program called AVID, which encourages students along the path to college. Among other things, it focuses on teaching students the organizational and writing skills necessary to get accepted to and succeed in four year universities.

It is crazy enough that I have a middle-school aged child...do I really have to be thinking about college already? Apparently, I do, and so does Joey.

Joey did not want to go. AT ALL. He wanted no part of this AVID business, no part of the informational meeting about it, nothing whatsoever that might separate him from the average student. He could not articulate to me why he was so opposed to this, just that he was, and he dug in his heels with complete obstinance.

Because I respect Joey's teachers so much, I did not waiver. If they believed that this program would particularly benefit Joey, I was at least going to learn more about it. Joey has become an A and B student under their guidance, and they know his particular challenges well. His success in school is still new, possibly fragile, and I will do anything I can to protect it.

So off we went. Me smiling, chattering away; Joey silent and sullen. When we arrived he would not get out of the car. I marched right in, knowing he would eventually follow me. He did, but the hostility was palpable. Luckily, his two best friends from school were there so I had enough credibility to at least get him in the room.

Quite unfortunately, I realized immediately that this was not just information night, but it was application night too. As soon as we checked in, the proctor called Joey in to write an essay, to be followed by an interview.

I almost died.

Joey despises writing, strongly objects to any work he can avoid and didn't want to even attend an informational meeting on this program, much less apply to it. I held my breath waiting to see what he would do. To my complete surprise and delight, he hesitated just a moment, then said, "OK" and followed the proctor. I went into the parent presentation and waited.

When Joey met me after his essay and interview, I could immediately sense the change in his demeanor. He really clicked with the teacher who interviewed him, so much so that he took me over to meet her. Turns out, she is the language arts teacher for 7th graders on the AVID track. My first positive indicator was his question, "You mean that I'd definitely get her for language arts if I do this program?"

I learned in the parent program that only 25-35 7th graders will be enrolled in AVID out of several hundred, so I told Joey that we would have to wait and see if he was accepted into the program, that he might not get to choose. He stopped, looked surprised and said, "You mean some people aren't going to get in? Then I TOTALLY want to do this!"

Nothing like a little competition to get him revved up.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing why he thinks he'll get in, why this is such a good program for him, and what college he wants to get in to.

Isn't that human nature? Alive and well in my son.

Requested

Last week I had the opportunity to thank the students of Sacred Heart School (SHS, as referenced below) who have been praying for me so diligently both in their classrooms and at home with their families. I attended the morning assembly and read a poem that I wrote for them, letting them know that their prayers are working.

I have had some requests to post that poem, so here it is...

Prayers Answered

Six months ago, dear SHS
You heard that I was ill
My family asked you all, “Please pray!”
And you all said, “We will!”

Then pray you did from that day on
So much I cannot tell
You offered up your sacrifice
That God might make me well

From day to day you never stopped
In asking for my cure
Now, did you know, of all the prayers,
That children’s are most pure?

The prayers you say go straight to God
In quite a special way
He listens to your hopes and thoughts
And every word you say

How blessed I am to have you all
As soldiers in this war
Because with you all on my side
I’m winning more and more

Thanks be to God, I’m getting well
In part, because of you
I was not sure I ever would
But now I know it’s true

God heard our prayers and answered them
According to His will
Now please don’t stop those prayers quite yet
Because I need them still

I have some road to travel down
My journey’s not quite done
But when I reach the end of this
I hope to say, “I won!”

I want to thank you, each and all
For keeping me in prayer
I’ve never been alone through this
Because you’ve all been there

But most of all I hope you know
How much that you can do
By praying for the things you need
The What, the When, the Who

God loves you and He wants you to
Approach Him with your needs
So keep Him close and talk to Him
And follow where He leads

This Could Only Happen To Joey

Tonight our whole family went to a Jethawks game (our local minor league baseball team).

We don't often do this unless it is a special event (like Scout night), simply because doing anything with seven children is not only labor intensive, but expensive as well. However, we went to just an ordinary game tonight because we picked up some tickets from the Knights of Columbus (thanks, guys!) that made it much more feasible to squeeze our entire family into the stadium.

It started off on a good note, because we ran into Joey's football coach and two boys from his team. It continued to go well, as Natalie enjoyed climbing up and down the aisles and generally left us in peace, and Bella loved Kaboom (the giant bird mascot). Everyone was warm enough (until Natalie dumped an entire bottle of water on my jeans, that is), no one begged to go on the ever-present inflatable jumpers.

The real kicker came, however, when Lindsey ventured into the gift shop to buy a baseball with money she had brought. It was a "photo ball" and had a collage of five or six snapshots of players and fans running around it.

As we were about to leave, she asked if she could unwrap it and have Kaboom sign it for her. I said she could and she started to skip off to find him. She didn't get far before she came running back and said, "Mom, this looks like Joey!"

Sure enough, one of the photos on the ball was very clearly of Joey, getting something signed by Kaboom. We are guessing the shot is from two years ago, but are not entirely sure. Given that we go to two or three Jethawks games a year, it was absolutely shocking to me to see him on the ball. What are the chances?! Further, what were the chances that Lindsey would decide to bring money and buy that, of all things, in the gift shop? We could easily have never even known.

By this time, Sam had tuned into what was going on and said, "I almost always follow Joey, so if he's in the picture, I probably am too." Darned if he wasn't right. He is standing behind Joey, wearing his Cub Scout shirt, although his arm is in front of his face so only I would know it was him. Still, he was beaming to be included, no matter how obscurely. (I later joked with him that he was just like Mike in Monsters, Inc. when he kept getting covered up in the company's ads.)

Needless to say, we ran back in and bought three more balls. So far.

Re-Entry

I have had the absolute pleasure of spending the better part of the last week just outside of Cancun, Mexico in a beautiful resort with my dear friend Jennifer in honor of her 40th birthday. Jennifer's very generous husband sent us away as his gift to her (since she didn't really want the big party he was willing to throw for her).

Thanks to family and friends, not to mention Jay's complete support and encouragement, I was able to spend 5 days away from home reading, relaxing, napping and eating way too much. Of course, the best part was being with Jennifer, who I have missed so much since she moved to Texas years ago. We tend, when we are together, to revert back to the age we were when we met (that would be eight years old) and end up laughing about completely immature and ridiculous things, and this visit was no exception. I laughed an awful lot and had a really good time.

Naturally, I missed my family and was thrilled to find them all waiting at the airport in a row when I arrived. I was relaxed, my buttons were all reset, and I was ready to face the mountain of laundry that I knew was awaiting me at home.

This is where things started to get a little squirrely.

About half way home I started to feel not so well. I figured it was because I had to get up really early to catch my flight and just needed to sleep, so I went to bed pretty quickly when I got home. The next morning (Monday) I went down to UCLA for my usual blood draw. My neighbor Robin went with me so I could bring the kids with me--I did not want to leave them so soon after just returning. I was feeling fine, thinking that the sleep had done me good. And this was indeed the case, until I had something to eat.

When Robin and I stopped for lunch on the way home (at a really cute kids-only restaurant, but that is another story) I started to feel really bad. I was suddenly very glad she had come with me so she could drive.

Not long after I got home I spiked a fever, so I emailed my oncologist to let him know. His nurse practitioner emailed me right back and told me to go to the ER because, apparently, a fever can be a big deal when you are going through chemo because of potential problems with white blood cells. Feeling a little ridiculous, I went.

To make a long story short, after a bunch of bloodwork and some X-Rays, the ER docs concluded that I had a fever, probably from a virus. Since my white blood counts were OK, they sent me home around midnight. Far from making me feel silly for coming in, the ER staff from start to finish was great, assuring me that my oncologist had done the right thing by sending me in, and even giving me a private room (those of you who have been to the AV Hospital ER know that this is no small thing). I was consistently surprised by how seriously my little fever was taken by all involved, and I felt very well cared for.

One might think the story ends there, but alas it does not. About a half hour after I fell into bed, exhausted, Tony began to throw up. This repeated every two to three hours throughout the night, and not once did he make it without soiling his pajamas and bedding in the process. Even with the middle-of-the-night laundry load, I had to do four loads today just to get back to the beginning of the enormous pile that had been awaiting my return in the first place.

Today my fever is gone and Tony is better too. I am reassured that all this has nothing to do with the cancer and is, instead, some sort of virus. Everyone gets sick, and not every ache or pain I have is cancer-related, although it is hard to remember this when it is happening.

So, here's to vacations...and the inevitable crash when we return home from them!

Thanks Be To God

I just got the results of my PET/CT, bone and heart scans, and they could hardly be better. I am actually in shock, as I was prepared mentally for, really, anything.

There is no longer a breast mass of any kind--previously cancerous tissue is indistinguishable from healthy tissue. The bones are no longer active at all and present as "treated", showing only scarring from where the cancer used to be. The liver spots can hardly be seen and are not active at all. Nothing in these three areas is measurable.

The only remaining trouble spots are on two lymph nodes, both of whose tumors are now measured by millimeters rather than centimeters and are no longer active.

Folks, we are on our way to that NED party! Four months ago I didn't actually believe that could ever happen, but I'm a believer now. Thank you all SO MUCH for your prayers throughout (and please don't let up yet!).

Oh, and for all you financiers out there, I might look into a "buy" on Immunogen and/or Genentech stock, because this drug is, clearly, amazing. How blessed I am to have access to it.

Who's Educating Who?

Question on Sam's science homework: How would you describe the surface of the Earth?

Sam's answer: Fun to play on.

I love that kid.

Like Father Like Son

Tony is in a "just like daddy" phase.

Many mornings, he puts on one of Jay's shirts and a pair of his shoes, get his very own Lightning McQueen laptop, pulls up his chair, gets his "coffee" just like dad's (i.e. milk), and starts to work alongside him. He can stay there quietly working next to dad for surprisingly long periods of time, and his attention to detail in imitating his father is quite amazing.

I love seeing how content Tony is when he is with his dad, and how patiently Jay supports his little shadow. I know this phase will end all too soon, so I am trying to absorb every moment.

Oh, and, yes, Jay does work in our master closet, although we have an amply large house for him to have his own office. Why? You guessed it--it's the only place quiet enough for him to take work calls without resonant kid noise! (Good thing he doesn't mind a bit...what a good sport I married.)

Poppy Fields

The hills outside of Lancaster are aflame with poppies. For those who might think of desert as barren and brown (although you are sometimes correct), I thought I would post a few pictures of our current landscape, filled with color and the promise of spring.

Natalie loved marching around the fields, barefoot. We had to help her avoid stepping on the flowers.

Our Godson Michael and his mom, our dear friend Lori. As you can see, the flowers go on forever, on all sides. It is really a spectacular sight to behold.

If you've ever contemplated a visit to the Antelope Valley, now would be an excellent time!

Breaking News

It looks like Los Angeles has a new Archbishop!

Although not yet official, all signs point to the current Archbishop of San Antonio, Jose Gomez, who happens to be a priest of Opus Dei--the only bishop in the United States who is.

Needless to say, I think this is wonderful news. The priests of Opus Dei with whom I have become acquainted have been consistently inspirational, filled with fortitude and deeply motivated by love of Christ. Goodness knows, Gomez is going to need all of these traits and more to tackle the job of running our nation's largest diocese.

I will look forward to hearing this "on the record" tomorrow. Meanwhile, good night!

You Know You're An Adult When...

You are SOOOOO excited it is raining...
...because it's watering your lawn for free.

Update: As it turns out, this is only effective if you actually remember to put your sprinklers on "rain delay." Otherwise, you're just the idiot who is paying to water your lawn anyway. (Not that I would know, of course.)

Easter Blessings

As I'm sure many of you are, I am feeling a great sense of release tonight. Lent is over, Easter is here!

The eggs were dyed, hidden and found. The baskets were filled and emptied. Dinner ingredients were purchased, prepared, consumed and cleaned up. It is done.

I have been at church more over the last four days, it seems, than I have been at home. I love the Holy Triduum liturgies and have enjoyed them more intensely this year, partly due to changes in me brought on by my illness, and partly due to my increased participation as a minister of music.

Singing the Psalm at this morning's Easter mass was one of the happiest moments I can ever recall. I was overwhelmed with joy, totally humbled that I could be there at the ambo, part of it all. I could not stop smiling all morning.

How can we despair when we have faith? For from true faith comes hope and, with it, lasting peace. May this peace be with you throughout this Easter season and far beyond.

OK, I Admit It

(Although I shouldn't.)

I really like Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA". I totally rock out to it in my big, thumpin' church van.

There, I said it. Are you shocked?

I Just Don't Get It

As many of you know, Jay is a supernumerary member of Opus Dei. I, while not a member, am a co-operator and participate in lots of Opus Dei sponsored activities, including the retreat I just returned from. I have great fondness and respect for the organization and simply cannot understand why, when I mention it, so many people look uncomfortable.

I have recently been doing some research to figure out why Opus Dei has a "reputation", and all I have come up with is fluff. Yet, for a something so completely unsubstantiated, there certainly is a lot of material to be found suggesting that Opus Dei is secretive, ultra-rich, a cult, elitist, actually controlling the Vatican, demeaning to women, or any other number of sensationalistic ideas that people want to put forth. Most of these theories pre-date The Da Vinci Code, so I can't even point my finger and say that Dan Brown started it all, although he certainly fueled the fire.

So what is it then? I must say I am helpless to understand. In my experience, Opus Dei helps people to become better Christians through being better at whoever they already are: employees, homemakers, spouses, parents and friends. The idea is that the world will be transformed through the transformation of individuals, so the more people learn to live the virtues truly and for the love of God, the better off the world will become.

Through Opus Dei formation, Jay and I have learned such shocking and scandalous notions as: think of others before yourself, pray a lot, make sacrifices for the good of others, be the best you can be at whatever job you do, be cheerful, trust God, strive to improve yourself, and other similar things.

But most of all, we have learned to thoroughly and completely trust God, as we are his children. This is what brings peace, and goodness knows I could not be dealing with my life right now if I did not have this total trust and peace. I credit my Opus Dei formation for the level at which I have arrived at this.

Opus Dei, of course, wants to grow so its formation can reach more people. This is a good thing, nothing scary or threatening. The group is not chasing people down and making them sign up, but instead encourages them to attend activities and then decide for themselves. Once someone decides to join, he or she actually has to wait awhile to be sure that really want to be a part of the work. Just to take myself as an example, in the ten years or so that I have been attending Opus Dei activities, I have never been pressured (or even asked) by anyone inside the organization to join.

Opus Dei does not tell its members how to think or how to vote, it only asks that one form his or her own conscience based on the principals of the Catholic faith (which all Catholics should be doing anyway). Opus Dei does not separate members from their geographical parishes, rather it encourages them to be as involved as possible. It supplements a Catholic's parish activities rather than replaces them.

Pope John Paul II was very supportive of the organization, as is Pope Benedict, so there is no truth to the idea that it is a maverick, wacked-out, red-headed stepchild of the church. Rather, there are many, many diocesan priests who are members themselves, though not actually Opus Dei priests.

So, I simply don't understand why people are suspicious of, put off by or otherwise threatened by Opus Dei. I, for one, think its great and am a far better and happier person for the principals I have learned through my involvement with it.

(Oh, and if any of my readers decide to join after reading this post, please let me know so I can pick up my free toaster! ;-).

Treatment #6

My, how time flies when you're having fun!

I can not believe that today marks my sixth treatment of T-DM1. This means we have been kicking this cancer without hesitation for 15 weeks. It also means that it is time for my second set of post-treatment scans, which will be taken on April 15th. Good thing my taxes are already done, or else I'd be stressing!

Seriously, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about these scans, because they are high-stakes for me. I knew without a doubt that the first set of scans would be good because I could feel the regression of the tumor in the breast. Now that the only tumor I can feel externally is virtually gone, I no longer have a marker to assure me that things are continuing to go well. Now, mind you, I don't think things are growing like wild-fire or anything like that, but what concerns me is the possibility of stagnation or slight progression. Stagnation wouldn't be terrible news, but any progression, no matter how small, is cause for my removal from the study. So please pray that there will be none whatsoever.

I have no reason to believe that the news will be anything other than good, but I also don't want to be so naive as to believe that there isn't any possiblility of less than stellar news. So, I will continue to pray, have faith that all things are possible in God and, in the end, whatever happens I will have peace with.

In the meantime, it's off to sleep so those T-DM1 trojan horses can find their entry gates and deliver their poison. A beautiful thing.

In Full Retreat

Days on retreat. Recollection in order to know God, to know yourself and thus to make progress. A necessary time for discovering where and how you should change your life. What should I do? What should I avoid?

--Furrow, Number 177

I am just back from a peaceful three-day retreat filled with quiet reflection, spiritual reading and resolution-making. (Oh, and lots of sleeping, too.)

I do this every year and absolutely love it. I cannot recommend it enough. If you don't already do this regularly in your life, make time for it! I come back refreshed, clear-headed, calm, and ready to make positive changes in my life.

I am renewed in my determination to be the best mother I can be to my children, reconciled with my illness and its place in my life, sure that the path I am attempting to follow is the right one.

Peace. Cheerfulness. Hope.

This is good stuff.

Me? Healthy?

Well, clearly, no. But I'm trying.

For the first time in my life I am attempting to change my eating habits for the sake of my health rather than for the vanity of losing weight.

Those of you who know me well know that chocolate chip cookies are, by far, my favorite food. Followed fairly closely by cake of any sort. Chocolate works for me as well, as do really salty fries.

This being said, it is no small thing for me to substantially ratchet down my intake of these types of items and replace them with healthier alternatives, but indeed this is what I have been doing for the past three weeks or so.

I have been flirting with diabetes ever since three of my last four pregnancies were gestationally diabetic. I regularly check my fasting blood sugars, and have watched as they have crept up to their recent average of 114. This is solidly pre-diabetic. Flat out diabetic is 125.

And, as you already know, I am riddled with cancer, so now seemed like a good time to do whatever I can to make a quick u-turn on the path I am currently on. It would be a terrible irony if I were to beat cancer only to find myself living decades with diabetes! I hope, instead, to live long and healthy.

Three weeks after reading "Stop Prediabetes Now" and implementing much of what was recommended, I have arrived at a fasting blood sugar in the low nineties. I am hoping over time to bring it down another 10 or 15 points. As a bonus, I have lost five pounds. (In fact, my study nurse asked me what was 'wrong' at my last oncology appointment--she was concerned that my appetite had left me again!)

In addition to virtually eliminating carbs (sugar, bread, rice, pasta, potatoes, tortillas), I have substantially increased my intake of non-starchy fruits and vegetables, along with protein such as meat, eggs and cheese. I am also faithfully exercising 20 minutes per day.

I don't like to exercise. And I don't like meat. So, while this does not come at all naturally to me, I am giving it my best shot. I am not perfect, and I will most definitely not go the rest of my life without ever having another cookie or piece of cake, but it is my most sincere intention to make them rare treats. If I get a second chance at life, I want to treat my body with more respect this time around.

Wish me luck, as I attempt to convince myself that food is more for nourishment than for pleasure. 'Cause I still have a lot of self-convincing to do!

Awwww

Is it wrong that I love them best when they are asleep? OK, maybe not all the time, but definitely sometimes!

Bumper Sticker of the Day

As spotted by Jay in Pleasanton, CA today (San Francisco Bay Area):

"Global Warming? Have cats, not kids."

I don't think I need to comment. (Although I certainly could.)

You Can Imagine My Relief

We had a full house of preschoolers today. My neighbor Robin broke her elbow and had to get it cast this morning, so I had her two, along with a friend of Tony's who came over to play. These kids all know eachother well and spend lots of time together, so even though I had six kids under the age of five, it was a very peaceful morning.

One of the things the kids were playing with was a light-up turtle that displays stars on the ceiling of a darkened room. So, they were in the hall closet for awhile, which is windowless, so they could see the stars. I was folding laundry (as usual) just outside the door so I could hear their squeals and giggles, which were, for the most part delightful. Have you ever listened to a bunch of three and four year old converse? It is pretty amusing stuff.

Hours later, while I was driving with them, Bella's announcement to Tony's friend tuned me in to their chattering: "I'm going to love you in the closet!"

Needless to say, I was dumbstruck. My head began to spin with questions. What was going on in that closet, anyway?! Has our world come to a place where I have to gender-separate three year olds for fear that they will be kissing in closets? What kind of moron must I be to allow them to play behind a closed door, even if I am just outside of it and think I know exactly what they're doing? How naive am I? My THREE YEAR OLD is talking about love ,and in a closet for pete's sake!

It took an interjection from Tony, who speaks three-year-old better than I do, for me to realize my mistake: "No, Bella, it's not nice to lock people in closets."

Oh, thank heavens, she meant to say lock, not love. Hallelujia! Suddenly I was back in a world where three year olds are still innocent and nothing untoward is going on in the closet. Silly me.

Small Successes

This is a good reminder for all us moms who are feeling overwhelmed with the magnitude of what needs to get done. The idea, propulgated by the folks over at Faith & Family Live, is that each mountain is climbed by a series of small steps (something we all know but frequently forget). So, I am joining other Catholic mom bloggers to post my small successes of today...

1. I planted a tree, with four-year old Tony's help. It's an Australian Bottle Tree and, by itself, makes our back yard look ready for spring. So what if my arms are sore from digging?!

2. I got all of my laundry done and put away today. That last part is the key, as I often get it all washed but rarely put it away the same day.

3. I exercised. 20 minutes on the Stairmaster. Under heavy pressure from my husband who wants to extend my life as long as possible, I have done this for nearly two weeks now, missing only the day after my treatment (which I TOTALLY get a pass for).

So there you have it. Not bad for a Thursday, and a treatment week to boot. Listing these things makes me feel a lot better about all the things that have not yet made this list. For, surely, they are to come.

So, what were your small successes today?

The Latest

I had treatment on Monday, and treatment days mean I see my oncologist. This was the first time I had seen him since my scan results came in three weeks ago. He said the results were 100% positive and that we would continue on this path indefinitely: treatment every three weeks with scans every nine weeks.

When asked if he now believed a cure was possible, he said that, in his experience, Stage IV cancer could not be cured. This is simply because, even when it looks like it is all gone, it is often lurking, too small to be seen. So, you can never assume you have a cure, even when it looks that way. However, he also acknowledged that we were "playing football with United States rules on Mars" so, in other words, he has no idea what to expect from T-DM1 because he doesn't not have any history on this particular drug. I suppose anything is possible, but it is nothing he has seen so far. So, what we are hoping for, rather than a "cure", is an extended period of NED.

He expressed hope that we would have the problem, come 2014 or so, of deciding whether to continue virtually forever on the drug or risk what might happen if we stop it. That, in his opinion (and ours too), would be a mighty nice problem to have given where I started. His recommendation was that I not allow anyone to pry this medicine out of my hand now that I have it. I am in complete agreement, although the practical thought of going through treatment every three weeks in perpetuity is a bit exhausting.

As far as potential future surgery goes, he is now of the opinion that, depending on the next scan results, a lumpectomy followed by radiation might suffice rather than a complete mastectomy. This was a very pleasant surprise to me, as I had never even considered it as a possibility. In fact, the last time was had talked surgical options we were discussing double mastectomy and the removal of my ovaries as well, so this is a huge leap from there!

So, needless to say, the news was all positive. I am not sure, then, why I have been a little sad ever since our visit. I suppose the reality of this being with me for the rest of my life is hitting me. Given my initial rapid death sentence, I feel like such an ingrate for being even slightly disappointed with where I am now. Any month I am given is a gift, and I am acutely aware of that. Nonetheless, I am realizing now that the initital "I am going to die soon" fear is abating, that I am never going to be the same again, and that is hard to accept. I think this must be true of any major change in life (even run-of-the-mill aging, really!).

But, accept it I must, and accept it I will, and I will gladly hustle my tush down to UCLA for treatments, blood draws and scans 6 times a month with a smile on my face and a prayer of gratitude for every time I am able to go. And in the meantime, I will be hoping that the yet-to-be-written rulebook for Mars will be to my advantage.

A Wedding, A Funeral, and Two Birthday Parties

If my weekend was a movie, this is what it would have been called. However, since I am not in a movie, and Jay is not Hugh Grant (thank goodness!), I will just call it busy.

I had the great honor of singing at a funeral on Saturday. Although I did not know the man who died, I do know his daughter. He was 101 years old when he died! He left behind many children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, and it was such a joy for me to see the church filled with so many people who loved him.

Immediately following the funeral, I joined the church choir in singing at the wedding of two choir members. It was a five tissue ceremony for me--one of those weddings where the joy of the couple is palpable. I felt priviledged to witness it.

Later, at the reception, Sam caught the garter...and held it between his fingertips as if it were toxic waste. I was totally amused. Natalie, who is becoming quite a chunk, ate three pieces of wedding cake. I tried, believe me I tried, to feed her less, but she screamed and clawed her way toward the cake table so disruptively that I ended up giving it to her just to keep her mouth busy. That girl loves to eat.

When you factor in the other weekend invitations we had for the boys' sleepover birthday party and the girls' garden tea birthday party, our living room looked like Christmas, given the number of wrapped presents waiting to be dispersed.

In addition, we had the monthly meeting of our Faith & Family discussion group at our house today. For those of you locals that don't already attend, I invite you wholeheartedly to join us (the first Sunday of each month at 11:15). We support eachother in raising children in the Catholic faith, and our topics vary greatly. There's plenty of coffee and donuts, and kids are always welcome!

I guess I should feel bad that I didn't spend the weekend ordering the house for my upcoming treatment downtime, but I don't really--I had too much fun. (Plus, my dryer is broken again, so I couldn't do any laundry anyway; this is always a blessing as well as a curse.)

I hope you all had a nice weekend too!

Make-Your-Own Party

Every time I walk into the room, Natalie breaks into a little happy dance. It is the most wonderful thing. From her high chair, from the jump up, from someone else's arms...no matter where she is, she starts jumping up and down enthusiastically with complete abandon and pure happiness. I don't ever want this to end.

For the last month, Jay's dad Don and his wife Carmen have been visiting us from Guadalajara, Mexico, where they live. It has been really nice to have the company and the help around the house. I will miss them when they leave tomorrow.

Carmen and I speak mostly in Spanish (although her English is better than my Spanish now), so it has been good practice for me to have her here. I love the differences between the languages and enjoy thinking about how sentences are constructed differently between the two. I also really like some of the idioms of Spanish that I have learned. Which brings me to the reason for this post.

Yesterday, when Natalie broke into her usual happy dance upon my return, Carmen said, "Hace mucha fiesta!" which translated literally means, "She makes a lot of party." Of course, what she meant by that was that Natalie was very happy to see me. but for some reason, this struck me as extremely funny and will forever be a part of my vocabulary now.

How wonderful to be greeted by someone so happy to see you that they, indeed, make their own party. Viva la fiesta!

Time Off for Good (Blood) Behavior

You may have noticed that, lately, I have not been posting much about *The Cancer*. This is because, happily, I have nothing to report! Things are stable with me right now, continuing in a predictable pattern, with no highs or lows. I am loving this!

By bloodwork has been so good, in fact, that I even got this week "off" from driving to UCLA. This is the first week since mid-November that I have not been even once.

At last report, one week after my last treatment, my white blood cell count was normal (granted, it was the very lowest number it could be and still be normal, but normal nonetheless!), and my hemoglobin, which had been as low as 8.3 in recent weeks, was a whopping 11! Just under the normal range of 12-18. My liver function, which had been bordering on "toxic" just a few weeks ago is also nearly normal, with only one measure still running high, and not even very high at that.

Thanks to these numbers, I was able to get my teeth cleaned today! This is a luxury that I have taken for granted my whole life and never really appreciated until I was in jeopardy of being allowed to do so.

Yes, things are good. I believe I am becoming a walking miracle!

Bad Parenting 101

Here is a list of what NOT to do in order to teach your children responsibility and natural consequences of their actions...

1. Should your child, who generally finishes his homework at school, get in the bad habit of leaving his backpack in the car overnight, do not let this continue uncorrected.

2. If, against your better judgement, you HAVE allowed this to continue, and you happen to pick up this same child in your husband's car one day, most definitely DO NOT allow him to leave his backpack in the car, as there is no telling where it might go with your husband (even if your husband's daily routine is unfailingly predictable).

3. If you have completely failed at executing numbers one and two, and your child finds himself without a backpack as you are leaving to take him to school at 7am, absolutely, positively, DO NOT allow him to talk you into driving like a lunatic across town to the church where your husband's car is parked in order to grab his backpack and eventually deliver him to school, unscathed and with virtually no consequences to his irresponsibility other than, of course, your own highly elevated stress level.

4. Most of all, avoid number three if your ever-patient and long-suffering neighbor is waiting for you to be home precisely on time so she can leave with the remainder of the children who need to be delivered to an entirely different school, because doing so might cause a domino effect and cause her completely innocent carful of children to be late due to your son's error. Because even if they weren't actually late, they COULD have been.

There you have it. What not to do. Not that I would know all this from experience or anything...

Just When You Thought You'd Heard it All

For your daily dose of "What is our World Coming To?!" just click here.

Do you think this human rights commission might consider how I feel discriminated against? That I just may consider it a violation of my right to be able to raise my children with the most basic of traditional values...that girls born girls are girls and that boys born boys are boys?

Yeah, probably not.

I find it impossible to believe that this commission is protecting the rights of children rather than pushing their own adult agenda. After all, when is the last time you heard of a consiously transgendered sixth grader? For goodness sakes.

Now, please know that I am not a hate-filled ranting psycho. I truly feel sorry for people who are not comfortable in their own skin. But don't make me put my girls in pants when I happen to love their little plaid jumpers! And don't plant the idea in their heads that wishing to change their gender is as acceptable as changing their hair color, because it's not, and I guarantee you that my first grader is not going to come up with this on her own.

I guess I'm glad I'm not living in England right now. (And, I'm guessing the English Human Rights Commision is equally glad about this!)

Bella-isms

This morning, right after she climbed out of her buckle while I was driving...

Bella: Are you mad, mom?

Me: Yes!

Bella: Is it a huge mad? Let me see your face.



And not an hour later as I am singing Sunday's Gospel Acclamation in the kitchen...

Bella: This is not church.


Good thing she's cute. That's all I'm saying.

Happy Birthday, Bella!

It's official. Isabella is three now. So, that means we must be done with the terrible twos, right?

OK, maybe not, but as I told an incredulous Joey this morning, I wouldn't change a single thing about Bella. She is a totally unique, never-to-be duplicated, often frustrating, always adorable bundle of creative energy and I can't imagine our lives without her. Each day she gets sweeter, funnier, more endearing. Whether she is cooperating sweetly or stomping her little foot in fierce defiance I love her totally and completely.

Bella knows what she wants (though what that is changes every two minutes) and does not hesitate to go after it. That quality will serve her well, I'm sure, at many points in her life. Simultaneously, she is intensely loving and physically affectionate. She melts my heart when she says, "Snuggle me!" and reaches her arms out to me when I tuck her in. She is my most faithful visitor at 2am, when she, without fail, climbs into my bed and plasters herself to my side for the remainder of the night. I never have the heart to kick her out (to Jay's dismay)!

Her enthusiasm is delightful, her inconsistencies entertaining. One minute she is seeking Tony as her sole consoler after her mother has scolded her, and five minutes later she is pinning her latest disaster on him with an innocent, "Tony do it!" (although he was at school at the time of the offense).

Bella, you are shameless, outrageous, clever and passionate. You are the source of much laughter and love in our home. We can't WAIT to see what you become, because it most certainly won't ever be boring! We all love you so much. Happy birthday!

The Full Scoop

I'm feeling much better today, and it's a good thing, too. Jay managed to fix my dryer last night (which has been broken for several days), so if I was still down for the count today I might have drowned in a pile of dirty clothes. As it is, I'm superlaundrywoman today. And grateful for it, too.

At any rate, I am now able to give a more thorough explanation of how my scan looked, for those who are interested. Those who are not can skip the rest of the post and refer to the shorter version of this news contained in yesterday's post.

Before you can understand how good this recent scan is, you have to understand how bad the last one was. I haven't put too much detail up about what my liver and bones looked like when we began treatment, only that the cancer had spread there. In fact, I didn't really know myself exactly how things looked until I picked up my original scan report last Friday in preparation to understand the new results. In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't know the details until I was fairly comfortable that good progress was being made. My doctor was wise to be vague with me.

Before treatment, the cancer was quite widespread and intensely active. Besides the breast, which was basically one solid tumor, I had numerous affected lymph nodes, several of which had measurable tumors in the neighborhood of 2.5 centimeters, and at least eight measurable tumors in the liver. The largest of these was 2.4 by 1.7 centimeters. Cancer virtually covered my bones from neck to knee and, again, was intensely active. In fact, it was so active that the radiologist who reviewed the scan believed that I must be on bone marrow stimulating medication in order to create that kind of metabolic activity. I was not, nor had I ever been.

Last week's scan shows a completely different picture. When examined for actively growing cancer, the breast and liver are noted as "resolved" while the skeleton and lymph nodes are "mild" or "interval reduced". The liver tumors, although still numerous, are now all "subcentimeter". The lymph node tumors are slightly reduced. The sclerotic lesions on the skeleton are unchanged. (Which means they are no longer growing, so this is great news.) I am not sure how bones heal themselves from cancerous lesions, so I will have to ask my doctor more about that. But either way, bone damage is more inconvenient than life-threatening. The liver was, by far, our greatest concern and it is responding beautifully.

Perhaps most significant is that I have made this kind of progress against this nasty, aggressive cancer in just 9 weeks. Only three treatments. There are many people who are on chemo for years without ever hearing news this good. The hope is that I will continue to respond to this drug for many months to come, and there is every reason to believe that I will continue along this path, although, admittedly, I still have a way to go.

In my eyes, my biggest danger right now is hope. When first diagnosed, I never imagined a cure was possible. I never could have entertained the idea of receiving a NED scan someday. (No Evidence of Disease.) Now I want that, am hoping for it, will be disappointed if I don't get it. I prefer, from a self-preservation standpoint, to be less hopeful, but here I am. Full of hope, reassured that prayer really does work, and completely grateful for the medical care I am receiving. Thanks be to God.

Solid Progress

I am truly exhausted tonight, too tired to write the upbeat post that my complete scan results deserve. So, since I know so many of you are waiting to hear, I thought I'd put up a quick post to say that the news was overwhelmingly positive, especially as far as the liver is concerned. I will post all the details tomorrow--probably more than you want to know. But the summary is that I am responding very, very well to this treatment and will continue on it indefinitely. Thank you so much for your continued prayers and amazing support. How blessed I am.

Nice Try

Last night we all sat around the table discussing our goals for lent--what we are trying to do less of and what we are trying to do more of between now and Easter. We like to do this, as I'm sure many families do, as a way to clarify our own goals and to understand eachothers so we can help one another out.

For example, if one child is giving up ice cream I am going to try to find alternate things to have around. If another is giving up a particular TV show, someone who might watch that show should remember to do so in the playroom so as not to shut the first child out of the family room. Little things like that, I've found, can help us all keep our Lenten promises and help keep the peace in the home.

As far as food sacrifices go, we were all busy consuming lots of whatever we were giving up. I, for instance, had a disporportionate amount of chocolate yesterday, in true Fat Tuesday style. Lindsey was slurping up Pixie Stix. Jay got his blender whirring for his farewell margaritas.

Over the blender noise, Joey declared, "Since I'm giving up margaritas too, I need to have one now." Points for creativity, but I don't think so.

On another note, besides giving up margaritas, Jay has also nixed Caribou hunting and hot air ballooning. It's going to be a tough 40 days around here...

Half the Story

The scan results have been slow to come in today. Thanks the the holiday and the need for the radiologist to precisely compare this scan to the last one, the news is trickling in instead of coming in one fell swoop.

So far, we have only preliminary results from just one half of the procedure, the PET. However, the news from this is as good as it could possibly be. The PET shows virtually no evidence of active cancer anywhere. The tracer was not picked up intensely in any spot, including the liver.

So, what we know is that the cancer is not growing. It has at very least been stopped in its tracks. Tomorrow when the CT results are laid under the PET we will be able to see the size of the breast and liver tumors and, hopefully, the bone lesions as well. Of course, the hope is that the tumors have shrunk substantially or even disappeared completely. But for tonight, just knowing that the cancer is no longer on the attack is enough for me.

Naturally, I will post more news tomorrow when the doctor calls. In the meantime, my treatment today has left me quite tired, so I think I'll spend the rest of Fat Tuesday sleeping. Party down!

Procedures

On Friday I had my first PET/CT and echocardiogram since my treatment began. I don't yet have the results, but hope they will be ready when I see my oncologist tomorrow. I am very hopeful!

I, who knew next to nothing about imaging before all this began, am becoming a "lay" expert in these types of procedures. This is probably a good thing, since I will likely have many dozen more over the next few years as we attempt to beat back this cancer. Now, this may not translate into the most interesting of all posts, but nonetheless, I thought I would share some of what I have learned and what they are like for me.

I am completely amazed at the technology we have available to us for diagnosing and monitoring disease in our bodies. I really had no idea what things had evolved to beyond standard x-rays. Have you seen the recent GE commercial where a man is remembering all the beautiful things he has seen in his life? This man, at the end of recounting various splendid scenes, says that even compared to all these natural wonders, the most beautiful thing he has ever seen is the radiology image that detected his wife's cancer in time to save her. I totally get this ad now.

Right now the PET/CT is the test we are most interested in, because it will show how the liver tumors are responding to treatment. I will be repeating this every 9 weeks or so indefinitely. PET stands for Positron Emission Tomography. The PET scan, when overlaid on a CT scan (which is basically a 360 degree x-ray) lights up cancer cells, sometimes even when they are too small to be considered a tumor or able to be seen on a CT alone.

The PET scan is part of what is called "nuclear medicine" because it uses a radioactive tracer to find the cancerous cells and light them up for the "camera". This tracer is attached to glucose and injected via IV for "uptake" into the highly metabolic (usually cancerous) cells of the body. Bone scans, too, are nuclear medicine, but instead of attaching the radioactive tracer to glucose, they attach it to phosphate instead.

To prepare for the PET/CT scan, I can eat no carbs for 24 hours prior and not eat at all for 6 hours prior. After they inject the tracer I have to lie perfectly still for 45 minutes (seriously, I cannot even read or check my email--I generally fall asleep) while it races around my body attaching to all the cancer cells.

While they are placing the IV, I get to pound three cups of unappetizing oral contrast for the CT part of the scan. The CT places the images of the organs where they are so the PET results have some context.

Once in the scanner I place my arms over my head and lie without moving for another 20-30 minutes. The first part is the CT scan, which goes very quickly and then comes the PET scan which takes much longer. Both are in the same machine and are virtually indistinguishable from one another except that they put another type of contrast in my IV for the CT part.

By the time I get off the table I am practically glowing and would most definitely set a geiger counter off. All this radioactivity might concern me if I were perfectly healthy, but as it is it doesn't really bother me. I like to joke..."What's it gonna do, give me cancer?!" This is an oddly refreshing point of view.

Reading the radiology report from a full body scan is really interesting because, not only do they point out all the areas where they found cancer and how active that cancer is (as measured by the rate at which it sucked up the tracer), but they also indicate non-cancerous things. For instance, I learned from my last scan that I have a non-obstructive kidney stone and a non-symptomatic maxillary sinus cyst. Who knew? (And, yes, I know, who cares?!)

In addition to the PET/CT, I also must have regular echocardiograms, as the drug I am taking puts me at some risk for heart damage. So far all my EKGs have been normal but this is a deeper picture, via ultrasound, of how the heart muscle looks. This is a quick (15 minutes) and easy procedure, although I remain of the opinion that ultrasounds of babies are far more interesting.

So, apologies for this less than riviting post, but I thought some of you might like to know what these various procedures entail and what they are like. It just may make the results I hope to share tomorrow a little more relevant.

Positive News of the Negative Type

I received the results back from my BRCA1 and BRCA2 tests to find that I am negative for a mutation on either of these genes. This is good news.

A mutation in either of the two BRCA genes places a woman at a very high risk of developing breast or ovarian cancer in her life (as much as 87% versus 8% for the general population). So high is the risk and worry from these genes, that many women who test positive elect to remove their breasts and/or ovaries prophylactically just to ease their minds. Whenever someone in their 20s or 30s develops breast or ovarian cancer, as I have, a gene mutation is a possibility, so testing makes sense.

While, of course, it doesn't much matter for me personally at this point whether or not I carry these mutated genes (i.e. I already HAVE cancer so I don't have to worry about getting it), it matters a whole lot for my children, especially my daughters. I am quite relieved that they will not have the grave concern that accompanies a positive test.

Nonetheless, my children now have a "strong" family history of cancer with a parent diagnosed under age 40, so they are at increased risk still, but not nearly as much as if the gene test had been positive. As we all know, sometimes cancer "just happens". There is no way to know why or how. So it is with me.

Regardless of gene status, I have great hope that by the time my children are grown cancer will no longer be the fearsome disease is today. Keep on it, researchers!

Stoic

This is a photo of Sam's Pinewood Derby car, six hours before the big race.


(Unfortunately, this is also how it looked at race time.)

Poor Jay. He labored intensively over this car for days, with Sam doing his part with painting, decals, axle prep, etc. When Sam left for school the morning of the impound, he was smiling from ear to ear in anticipation of that night's race and the fact that his entry was the best car the Di Silvestri house had ever turned out.

Jay was doing a final weight check when he saw it was just a smidge over the limit. Anyone who has ever had a Cub Scout knows that any car over the limit does not race. Period. So, Jay used his time honored trick of drilling out a little bit of wood from the bottom of the car to edge down the weight.

The next thing I knew, Jay was standing in front of me, the car in pieces in his hand, with a completely horrified expression on his face. Apparently, the drill hit the internal weights he had positioned near the back, spun them around and irreparably damaged the car. All he could think about was facing Sam and telling him he had no car to race that night.

The school had a morning mass that day, so he did not have long to torture himself. Jay intercepted Sam on his way back to class after mass, delivered the bad news and waited for him to crumble. Oddly, this did not happen.

Sam, although definitely disappointed, was completely consoled by Jay's promise to spend some special time with him over the weekend to make up for the lost race. I was thinking that Sam would want to go miniature golfing or bowling, just him and Dad. But, no. He surprised us both by asking to simply help Jay prepare the dinner for the monthly Knights of Columbus Family Movie Night.

At first, Jay was unsure about having Sam in a commercial kitchen where he was making dinner for 175 people. Plus, he was making chicken wings en masse for the first time and wanted to concentrate on making them correctly. After only a moment's hesitation, however, he acquiesced, and so off Sam went to join Jay in the kitchen.

When I caught up with them several hours later, I was met with perfectly prepared buffalo wings and a beaming father and son. Turns out, Sam was an actual real help in the kitchen, breading somewhere in the neighborhood of 600 chicken wings after being taught what to do. He was so proud of himself that he carried himself differently all night, and Jay was bursting with his own pride at how Sam had handled what could have been a disastrous situation.

Instead of crying and moaning over how unfair it was that he didn't have a car after working so hard, Sam spent one of the happiest afternoons of his life working alongside his dad in the kitchen, providing a real contribution to the meal.

I have no idea how this worked out so well. I wish I could say I had some wisdom that helped this come about or, more important, that I learned how to turn around a situation like this again in the future, but I don't. I'm just slack-jawed and grateful, but not half as grateful as Jay. Go, Sam!

Moving On

When I was first diagnosed with cancer (and learned that it had spread to bones and liver) the primary thing I wanted to know was how much time I had left. Six months? A year? 10 years? My oncologist couldn't tell me, but rather gave me a variety of scenarios. The best case was that I could keep the cancer at bay for many years, decades even. The worst case was that it would get the better of me within a year.

The internet is a dangerous place to be when you have Stage IV cancer. I have learned to be very careful about statistics and probabilities, to check their sources and the data that feeds them. On a bad day I could easily convince myself that I had better get my affairs in order quickly.

Nearly three months have passed now since my diagnosis, and I no longer fear the general statistics. I am younger and stronger than most of the "numbers", and I am blessed to have access to an amazing super drug that just may extend my life beyond anyone's expectations. Moreover, I am completely at peace with this disease and am really, truly OK with whatever the outcome turns out to be. Naturally, I hope for (and will fight like crazy to obtain) enough years to see my children's children. But if that is not in the cards, so be it. Being settled about any possible outcome is absolutely vital to my peace of mind.

That being said, as time goes by, I am finding that I am thinking more and more about things NOT having to do with my illness. Large portions of the day pass now where I forget I even have cancer, so consumed am I with things I used to be concerned with: budgeting for the upcoming year, updating scout patches, paying taxes, planning for the kids' ever-present school projects, general running of the household. As the days pass, I am spending less and less time pondering my health, how well I may be responding to the drug and what is coming next for me.

What I am trying to say is that I am moving on with my life. After being suspended in a state of confusion and concern for months, I am slowly coming out of this daze and resuming life as usual. I will be on medication indefinitely, and I will have whole body scans every few months for the foreseeable future. But these things are now not extraordinary to me...rather, they are becoming part of my new normal. This means I can focus less on them and see them as just another part of my everyday existence, like washing the dishes or making the beds.

Yet, even as life returns to normal, I can't help but hope that the parts of me that have been improved by this experience will stay as they are. My outlook is healthier, my faith stronger, my eyes opened, and I don't want these things to return to how they were before. I hope they stay as souvenirs of these often difficult months now behind me.

I know this is a roller coaster, and that there is a lot of track ahead of me. Some days I will have big climbs and some days I will have big dips. Perhaps next week I will have a euphoric day when my scan results come in. Another day someone may tell me that things are not progressing as we would like. Regardless, I have come to understand that although I may someday die of this disease, it is not likely to be right away and I have lots and lots to do before that happens.

The moral of this story? Live and love as though you only have six months left, but plan prudently for many decades. This is exactly what I intend to do.

Quite Proud of Herself

This is my first attempt at posting a video. However, I could not resist this trying this one because I just had to share some of Natalie's sunshine with all of you. What a gift from God she is!

These are some of her first steps, assisted. So far she has also taken as many as three or four at a time unassisted, so it won't be long before she is walking all over. Happily, it does not seem the brace affected her development too much.

Hope this works (obviously, I am not very technical), and may it bring as much joy to you as it does to me each time I watch it.