Sunday, September 22, 2013


so hi there.  i haven't written in a long time.  for so many reasons.  for one, the task seems too big... the longer i go without writing, the more there is to write about, the more daunting sitting down to a blank screen seems.  there are people, so many people, who have been here to stay with us, who have helped us in so many ways, that i want to thank and give due credit to somehow through a blog post, but that too, seems like a monumental task, because how exactly can i adequately thank them for putting their lives on hold to fly thousands of miles over here to do things like clean our bathrooms and feed our children and pull the burley around town when they haven't even been on a bike in years... but they all did it... greg's parents, my mom, my friend andrea and her husband, forrest, and their son, leo, who endured multiple bites from henry, who is still learning how to appropriately express appreciation, my sister, who endured two 10 hour plane flights while in her second trimester of pregnancy, and my brother-in-law.  and it doesn't end there, because next comes my brother, and then my dad and step-mom, another friend... then maybe my mom again and my aunt... and probably greg's parents again.

and then there are the cards, the gifts, the care packages, the borrowed cars, the ride to the hospital when i needed it (jean) and the ride home (bo), all the thoughts and all the prayers...

what can i say other than thank you and i owe you one?

and then there's the fact that my thoughts are always changing on this subject of cancer, living with it or living around it, and the idea that you don't really want to hear my thought of the day on this subject... so then i don't write for that reason.

i'm not sure why i decided to break the drought at this moment.  it's one in the afternoon on a sunday. greg and henry left to drop william off at a birthday party and i'm essentially stuck on the couch, realizing that cancer and chemo are all fine and good and more or less manageable until i get sick.  at least, i assume it's worse than if i got sick without having cancer or being on chemo (probably more the latter than the former).  of course, getting sick on chemo automatically becomes worse because when you get a fever, they make you go into the hospital.  so early thursday morning was the second time since i've been on chemo that i got a fever.  the other one was about a week and a half prior.  when i went in for the first fever, they kept me around for a couple of hours and then let me go home (although they did offer that i could eat dinner there or spend the night... i politely declined).  when i went in at one in the morning on thursday, i sat in the e.r. room for a few hours with greg and then the doctor convinced me that i should just stay the night while they waited for the rest of the blood work to come in.  it did take some convincing because to me it felt like, once they had me there, they were going to keep me there... and it's true... they did keep me for another two nights beyond that first night.  before that, i'd never spent the night in the hospital... not when i had children... not even when i was born... i was resistant to the idea.  when i avoided it during that first fever it felt just a little bit like a personal victory.  when i didn't avoid it the second time... it felt a little bit like the opposite.  and i know what you're thinking and what you might tell me.  yes, i already know.  i know, i know, and i know, and that's why i didn't sneak out the back door.  it's not about holding the record for fewest number of hospital stays.  and even though the jury's still out on whether i even need the antibiotics i've gotten, you are not allowed to take chances with cancer.  there is no debating with this disease.  it holds all the cards.  damn it, cancer!

so when i get back the energy to get back up off the couch, perhaps our lives will return to normal long enough for me to imagine what normal feels like, before the next round of chemo and meds begin again.  but then, of course, there will only be one more round to deal with after that... so... once again... when i really think about it, i shouldn't be a grump... this part of the treatment is nearly over and it hasn't been that bad on me overall.  i haven't even lost all of my hair yet, and in fact, it's begun to grow back.  (we'll see if it lasts the final treatments.)


nina said...

I am delighted that it hasn't been that bad, but it must seem like a small eternity and so I am full of admiration for your success at mostly keeping your spirits up!

And thank you for posting. Seriously: it's really cool of you to focus on it when reading FB and whatever else there is online seems so much easier.

(I have to tell you, you have the hardest letter recognition puzzles for commenters on the planet!)

Phyllis Noble said...

Thanks for writing, Regan! For totally different reasons, I've not been writing for the last few days — I've been without access to WiFi. But now, Zach and I are in a hotel and my only excuse is that my eyes won't stay open. Toothpicks did not come with the room amenities, so I'm about to go to sleep.

Thinking about you a lot, wishing you strength, wishing I could join the folks who've trooped overseas to pull the burley. Big hug.

Anonymous said...

What great friends and family you have, very hearthwarming to read about the support they give you and your family.

In danish we have this saying, -med ondt skal ondt fordrives-, meaning something like , to expel evil with evil.
The "evil" treatment you are undergoing and experiencing the bad side effects from, i'm sure will succeed and cure you!

Med ønske om rigtig god bedring.

George H. said...

Ah, good, your commentary has returned and I am happy to read it and nod my appreciation for your updates and admiration for your soft humor. Just checking in and, as Erik wrote, "god bedring!"