Checking in on Amy

Every little noise makes it hard for me to think today. I am tired but not. Want food and don't. The dog has had a 'barky' day, and though I love her my patience is wearing thin. I know tomorrow will be better, but it does not change the fact that I'd like to crawl out of my skin right now, or just go to sleep and wake up on Tuesday or Wednesday when my chemo hangover is all gone. Since cute dog photos always make things better, here is a picture of Martha with Lily, another Wheaten in the neighbourhood. :)

My third chemo treatment was yesterday and so far I am feeling similar to last time. I've got a big wave of steroid-induced energy that will most certainly wear off tomorrow. This will (likely) be followed by a tired, foggy, grouchy Sunday and Monday followed by a better Tuesday, and incremental (but noticeable) improvements each day after that. About two weeks after treatment I feel as normal as can be, and I am grateful for that. My bloodwork on Wednesday showed that my blood is doing OK but my platelets were getting a bit low. This is to be expected, and can't really be helped. If they get too low, the consequence would be a delay in my next treatment, so I'm hoping this won't be the case because I'd really like to be able to stay on schedule. I like schedules! Chemo #3 Selfie My wishes for chemo #3 We have had a busy but uneventful last week. Science fair kept me busy on and off until yesterday. The long weekend was quiet but lovely. I experimented with some new

Yesterday I had an appointment to have my new port checked out. Apparently I am a good healer and the port is ready to go for chemo next week. As a bonus, while I was there they removed my picc line, so I have reclaimed my arm and will be able to shower without putting on my silly 'water wing' device. I am absolutely thrilled by this development, as it also means I no longer need to go to weekly 'picc maintenance' appointments. I didn't even feel the picc line coming out - they just pull it out through the hole and then put some gauze on it, same as if you were getting bloodwork done or giving blood. The tube was thin and white with a mark every cm along its length so they can make sure they get the whole thing. It was 42 or 43 cm long (I forget which). So weird that it's so easy to pull out. Here I am, 5 minutes before picc removal. Obviously smiling! Both 'devices' visible.' Here I am at home, enjoying my newfound arm freedom. :) Here you can see m

Since COVID started I have never really been worried about germs. I have always worn a mask in public and am careful to give people personal space. I listened to the concerns of people who were immunocompromised and have always tried to act in a way that won't make others feel uncomfortable, but have never felt personally at risk when I go out in the world to run errands. Now that I am immunocompromised, I am experiencing some true germ anxiety for the first time. Last week I went to Winners to shop for summer hats, and in the checkout line none of the other customers in front of me or behind me were wearing masks. I was wearing mine and trying to keep my distance, but felt very vulnerable in that moment. The customers behind me were breathing down my neck even though I was clearly leaving space before the customers ahead of me. I'm not afraid of getting COVID as much as I'm worried about the fact that getting it (or another illness) could result in a delay in my treatment.

What glorious weather we had this past weekend! Weather in May can be so unpredictable. In the last 5 years we have seen just about everything, including snow. We were very lucky to be able to spend this unusually warm one at our cottage. Our cottage is part of a corporation including 8 families that have each purchased a share in what used to be a lodge/cottage resort. Leading up to Victoria Day weekend we usually coordinate with the others to do the spring job of putting in our big docks. This year two weekends were put aside for this and we were not able to attend the first. We arrived this weekend (the second of the two) to find that the big jobs had all been completed. Of course, no trip to the cottage is without 'work' of some kind, and our water heater didn't make it through the winter so Rick spent half of Saturday replacing the element. I am certainly feeling better every day post-chemo. More like myself. My surgical incisions seem to be healing OK. Every day less

Today Rick and I celebrate our 19th wedding anniversary. I am so lucky to have such an amazing, supportive, loving partner. I wrote last week about things I have found easy and hard as I go through cancer treatment. Seeing worry on the face of the human I love most is one of the hardest things. I have wondered why I feel this way, and I think it is just because inside his look of worry is everything else. All of his love and care. Every story and adventure. And we have had quite a few adventures! 💗 I found this flashback photo on our trip blog from the year 2000! This was taken in Amsterdam: These next two are from our honeymoon in Newfoundland in 2003. We spent 5 weeks camping our way around the island. First photo is from a LONG hike that involved a cold stream crossing. Makes my feet cold just to think about it. Pardon the glare on this one. This was taken in Ecuador in 2005 (or it may have been 2006 as we were there over the New Year's holiday). We crui

This second round of chemo has been similar to the first. I was feeling pretty good the first couple of days (if you can consider a steroid high 'good!') and like last time that is being followed by a couple of really slow and tired days. This round I have found that the feeling of exhaustion and brain fog bothering me more than the first time. The first round of chemo I wasn't sure what to expect, so to have my symptoms limited to fatigue and a nagging headache seemed like a gift (which it really is) and that 'pleasant' surprise may have distracted me from the details. Or perhaps things are a little worse this time. Hard to say. I've been trying to explain how I feel. How my brain feels. It is weird. But I will try. This feels sort of like jet lag. The kind where you are exhausted AND you still have a 10 hour day in front of you and you need to gather your wits so you don't get on the wrong train and it takes all of your concentration. The kind where you ge

I just got home from Chemo #2 and, like last time, so far so good. Mom is here and she was my chauffeur today! During our neighbour dog walk this morning the topic of Mother's Day came up, specifically that it is happening this weekend. I was so sure it was next weekend, as it often occurs at the start of the Canada Wide Science Fair. So, I am thankful for Mother's Day I get to be with my mom. 💜 My treatment took just about exactly 3 hours today. I'm grateful it's not longer; some others are there for much longer, and still others go home hooked up to a bottle of chemo. Here is a picture of my in my comfy chemo chair - they are sweet recliners and VERY comfortable. I mentioned in a much earlier post that I received a really amazing gift from my friend Deb. She had a cancer diagnosis in 2017 (I think!) and did a beautiful job sharing her story at that time which I was grateful for. Her honest sharing helped inspire me to do the same, and I have found it to b

This week will be chemo treatment #2. I'm not overly worried about it since I know how last round went and I can anticipate how things may go. Some symptoms are cumulative, so I can't really predict how well I will feel, but as long as it isn't drastically different from last time I know I will manage. The hardest things about my illness so far haven't had to do with treatment.  Admitting to myself that something was wrong with me was hard. Saying the words out loud to Rick, the girls, and to our family doctor was hard. Telling our friends and loved ones that I am sick was hard. Admitting that I needed to take a leave from work was hard. Waiting for my first couple of appointments to be scheduled was hard. The hardest things involved facing the reality of a serious illness, confronting my mortality (because that is unavoidable), and witnessing/absorbing the worry and pain of my loved ones. These are BIG things. These are the things that shifted my reality and in some wa