I’ve been trying to keep this blog as non-mopey as possible lately, figuring that acting normal is a reasonable way to start feeling normal. Lots of you continue to send cards, email and comments, though, so I figure it’s time for an update on how things are going for Susan.
Susan’s on a three weeks on, one week off rotation for her chemo, which means that last Tuesday she didn’t have chemo. The chemo, in addition to making her tired, tends to give Susan an upset stomach, so this week off has meant that food is interesting to Susan for the first time in about a month.
Of course, yesterday was a chemo day again, so I’m guessing food is going to once again become a chore for her.
What sent Susan into the doctor in the first place a couple months ago was that her hip was hurting badly. And of course it turned out there was a tumor there, big enough that it was in danger of fracturing her hip. Since then, it’s become increasingly painful for Susan to get around.
We’ve both noticed lately that Susan’s getting around a little more easily. Her limp doesn’t slow her down as much, she lifts things without as much pain, and she gets up and down stairs more quickly. We’re both incredibly encouraged by this, and choose to think this means that the chemo’s doing its job. Susan told her doctor she’s getting around better, and the Doctor agreed it’s a good sign.
What is Susan doing right this second? She’s taking the girls to their swimming lessons.
One of the things chemo does is kill hair follicles — moreso for some people than others. Susan’s hair started going pretty fast about a week ago. Rather, though, than let it get increasingly patchy (and have the nuisance of having hair all over her clothes constantly), Susan had me shave it all off with the electric razor.
I volunteered to take the razor to her head afterward, reasoning that I am getting pretty good at this now. Susan declined.
The boys took all this in stride — they’ve seen Mom without hair before. The twin girls — each of which firmly believes she is a Disney princess — freaked out when they first saw her. That lasted about fifteen minutes, though, and now they like to kiss mom on the head, just like they do for me.
Susan has a wig from when she went through chemo the first time a few years ago, and I’ve told her we could get her as high-end of a new wig as she likes, but — at least for now — Susan’s not wearing a wig at all, instead going with bandanas (we bought about a dozen at e4hats.com). For one thing, it’s hot outside and the thought of a wig is just awful. More importantly, wearing a wig feels like you’re trying to hide something you’re ashamed of, and Susan has nothing at all to be ashamed of.
I’ve never liked long hair. Susan looks great now.
Circle this Date and Pray Like Crazy
So here’s where things stand right now. On July 20, Susan will be getting a CT scan. A week later, the doctor will tell us whether the cancer is shrinking, staying the same, or growing. If you’re the praying sort, we’d appreciate your prayers that the chemo will do its job and the tumors — especially the ones in her lungs — will shrink. If you’re the meditative sort, we’ll be grateful for any positive thoughts/energy/karma you can send our way.
And again, thanks very much for your kind thoughts, comments, email, cards, and other messages. They mean a lot to Susan and me.
PS: I talked to the Twin Six guys yesterday, asking if they’ve heard anything about when the special pink edition of the jerseys will be arriving. They told me that the manufacturer sent them Monday, so they’ll be arriving at Twin Six later this week, and then shipping out. T-shirts have already arrived and are starting to ship out, and socks will be arriving any day now. As soon as I get my order, you can be sure I’ll be posting pictures. Big thanks to everyone who’s ordered anything at all.