Let's Review: a timeline

Most of you know that we homeschool the girls, so you might surmise therefore that I love timelines. You would be right. Timelines are a wonderful way to illustrate for the girls how history develops, how people of a certain time interacted and dealt with each other.

Today, it's a good way to show you how this whole new adventure developed...we'll just pick it up this summer...

June 30: our final day in a "home"

We were renting near Sunny Point and had given notice since we were getting a PUPPY! Landlords said NO to the dog, so we knew we had to go. In fact, we had given our notice way back in April, thinking we would have plenty of time to buy a house and move in before the dog arrived. That didn't happen. We put in seven offers and got rejected on each one. Some offers were kind of low-ball, but many were aggressive. Didn't matter. No house. Therefore...

July 1: First day of being "homeless"
The girls LOVED to announce this everywhere we went. Technically, we were able to stay with a dear friend for two weeks before we got out the camping equipment and moved to the campground out at Auke Bay. Greg actually spend one of these weeks in Green Bay for training. (Happy side note: July 1 is also the first day of our benefit year for insurance, which turned out to be very good timing.)

July 13: I flew solo down to San Francisco, drove for four hours, picked out and picked up the puppy, then drove back to SF and flew back to Juneau on the 14th. Meanwhile, Greg and the girls started the outdoors portion of our summer. Joined Greg and the girls at a primitive site in our spacious wall tent. Fun!



Quail Ridge's Keta Roe (8 weeks) 

 

This is the site where I lost my wedding ring.

July 21: Moved to a different campground with some sweet, hot, clean showers and great trails. Still in the wall tent. Here's a visual:

July 22: This was a Sunday. We all got up early to shower (so nice when you're camping) and head to church. There was NO LUMP that morning.

July 24: Tuesday. Played soccer with my buddies at the downtown turf field. Noticed while I was running that I had some substantial pain in my right breast and that sprinting up and down a soccer field did not seem to be helping matters, nor did my extra super duper bra. Mentioned to a few of the other ladies that I must've taken a ball to the chest and forgot about it. In the shower that evening, I found the lump. It was more of a crescent-shaped disc and it was exceptionally painful. I'm guessing about 1/4 inch thick, and about three inches at the longest part and about 1.5 inches wide. And let me again emphasize that it was NOT THERE a mere two days earlier. Somehow I found myself doubting that. I figured I must've missed it somehow, or overlooked it, or even was in denial. But things happened later in this scenario that changed my mind and made me realize that it was entirely true and indeed feasible that there was no lump on Sunday, even though it was huge on Tuesday.

Things kind of blur after this for several weeks. After seeing my nurse practitioner, we tried two 10-day courses of antibiotics, thinking this crazily fast-growing thing was mastitis. During that time, Greg and I ran our first Triathlon, the Aukeman!, on August 4th. While I continued to play soccer, camp, fish, hike and just generally do life-as-usual, this lump was still growing, not reacting to meds, and still hurting. 

Not sure if all of you know this or not, but I REALLY love playing soccer. Normally, I play in several different leagues with CCSL, an org I actually helped run for a few seasons. So even though I was in pain, I kept playing, thinking I would eventually play through the pain and it would just go away. I actually played some of my best soccer in a long time in August with a great group of older moms with kids. We played against some really young, agile, fast players and managed to hold our own fairly often. It was great!

While I was living it up playing soccer, I was also doing lots of doctor visits and testing. Each time I talked to someone, a friend, a tech, a doc, about my symptoms, they each maintained that 'cancer doesn't hurt'. I call BS on that.

During these weeks, I had a mammogram. Let me just say YOWCH! Then I had an ultrasound. Then I had an MRI. Once we got the results back from these, my doc said, "It's time to head south to the experts", so we did. Once south, I got a biopsy (another way worse YOWCH!) and the results confirmed that I had breast cancer. That was Sept 10.

We flew back to Juneau for chemo and started that on Oct 10.

Four rounds of AC chemo, once every two weeks for eight weeks. My nausea was under control most of the time and I really only had one terrible week. The rest was very manageable. The tumor remained unchanged until the days right before the third treatment when it seemed to just lose its shape. Still dense, still painful, but suddenly not a lump anymore. By the time I finished the fourth dose on Thanksgiving, the tumor was all but gone. Imaging showed the cancer was still there but diffuse.

Dec 11: Bilateral Mastectomy. Okay I gotta be honest here. I do not miss my curves at all. I miss my mobility though. Right now I still have quite a bit of nerve pain as well as cording or webbing, an effect of the surgery.

We're doing okay, prepping for whatever comes next. I'm laying low and trying to rest and relax and stay sedentary right now so I can get my drains out on Wednesday. I'm hoping that will help with my mobility and range of motion.

That's it for now. Happy 2013 to each of you!

Thanks for checking in, y'all.

 

unwitty

I've been putting off posting because I am just not in the mood for witty reparte' these days.

But then I thought there may be a few people who were interested to know if I was still alive or not.

So.

Yes, I am alive. The surgery was a snap! For me. Less so for my mom and Greg and Greg's mom. It might have been a snap for the girls too. They stayed at the hotel with Greg's mom and had a ball. Thanks, LML!

The docs are happy that I opted for the bilateral instead of just the right side because they needed to yank out 22 or so lymph nodes on the left side as well. The pathology showed that maybe I have two different types of cancer, one in the breast tissue and a separate one in the lymph nodes. There doesn't seem to be any anxiety about that from the docs, but we'll see once we start the new chemo how everything reacts.

Speaking of which, we got a revised schedule of our near future from the oncologist. After I recover from this surgery (they're giving me about three weeks for that) we will do 12 weeks of chemo followed by six weeks of radiation, followed by at least another year of more chemo, maybe two, maybe five, maybe for the rest of my life. Depends on how my body and/or the cancer reacts to it.

And speaking of the recovery, it's not so snappy. It's painful and awkward and time-consuming and hard. And I seem to be a lazy and crabby patient. Not a productive combo, really. But it does leave lots of room for improvement. :)

We were blessed to get over Snoqualmie Pass thrice on this trip already, once just hours before they closed it due to "Winter Storm Drako", a relatively wimpy system (by Alaska standards, anyway) that rained and blew hard on some parts of Seattle. There were also quite a few accidents on the pass on the way back to Yakima. One in particular had me praying hard and immediately for all involved. Very sad and scary to see. We are thrilled to report we had no problems, didn't even need the chains.

The entire household, save myself, is out shopping today. This may be all the evidence needed to prove my "crabby patient" allegation. All you naysayers, take note.

We are anticipating a very very Merry and blessed Christmas and wish the same for all who read this.

And I will give you rest...

Years ago there was a Saturday Night Live skit in which the characters were loud, opinionated, chatty, nosey, old Jewish women. They were gossiping over the top of each other, trying to out-do each other with their amazing news and stories. Each time one of them mentioned some serious malady that a neighbor or relative had, they whispered the condition instead of speaking it aloud, as if saying it right out loud would make it more real or contagious. Whatever the reason, it was funny and silly and now years later, all I can think of when I meet someone who hasn’t heard my news and is puzzled over my serious lack of hair, is that I have (shhhh) ‘the cancer’.

Cancer is something that just happens. It doesn’t really sneak up on you, because by the time you know you have it, it’s been part of you for a while. For me at least, it didn’t come as a huge shock since I had been feeling odd for many years before the official diagnosis. Exhausted, lethargic, depressed, unmotivated. I think we were more relieved than surprised. “Oh, that’s why you’ve been such a slug for the last four years!” “Ah ha, finally, we know why I’m so tired all the time.” “No wonder I never lost the baby weight!” It just all added up and started to make perfect sense.

Maybe because of that perspective, and also due to our faith, we have never felt like there was a huge conflict looming. I often get well-intentioned advice from folks regarding “fighting the good fight”, “battling cancer”, “staying strong and charging on”. My path so far has been more like a welcome rest. We know we are not in control. We know it’s not our place to know the plan or make any demands. We have surrendered to His will for me and our life together, and the freedom that is found in that gift is immense.

Now you might guess that Greg is feeling much more stress and pressure than I am. I know he’s worried about, well, everything. But just last night he said he’s far more stressed out at work than he is here at home. Counting that as a blessing. And of course I do get those fleeting thoughts like, “What if I’m not here for next Thanksgiving? How can I make this one the best for the girls? How can I lessen their sadness?” But for the most part, we live each day much as the next one and much as the one before: get up, do what we do, take lots of pictures, and try not to yell.

Blessings abound every day. My ongoing murmur of thanksgiving this week has been to praise God that neither one of the girls nor Greg has to go through this. I can’t imagine having to bear the critical suffering of my own children and I’m so thankful that I don’t have to at this time. Greg is our glue right now and we depend on him too much to have him down and out.  So, really it only makes sense that I be the one to carry this load. It’s much easier for me, anyway.

Ever since the diagnosis in September we have never asked “why?” once. My natural bent was to think, “Yeah, why not?” Breast cancer in particular seems so commonplace these days. It’s almost impossible not to know someone who has gone through it themselves, or has a wife, mom, or sister who has. (Do not even get me started on the poisons in plastics and hair-care products.)

Every now and then, someone will ask me what my prognosis is. I’m so happy to tell them that I don’t have any idea. We never even asked the doctors since we know they’re not running the show. After all, it really doesn’t matter, does it? It’s really just an opinion and I’d rather be secure in knowing God’s got it all under control than to be wrestling with what one doctor says versus what another study shows.

Not to beat the SNL skits to death, but I’ve been feeling very Rosanne Rosannadanna lately. People ask how I am and I mistakenly think they’d like to hear detailed descriptions of my digestion woes or my hair issues. I seem to get in to way too much explicit, uncomfortable specifics for most people. Luckily the occasional nurse will appreciate this need to divulge odd bits and even ask for more of the exciting minutiae of chemo side effects. But most people do not want to know. Fine. Point taken.

BUT! Just in case you are one of those people who were wondering, here’s one little aspect of breast cancer that you might find interesting. Have you ever seen those labels on certain products that make you think, “Did I really need to know that Brand ChemX was the official deodorant of the US National Pairs Figure Skating Cliff Diving Combo Team?” Or that a particular cereal is the official NASCAR brand? Whatever, who cares, right? Well, Scotch offers a lint roller with official Susan G. Komen labels all over it and lots of rather annoying pink ribbons. I’ve often thought, “My gosh, they’ll stoop to anything to sell more stuff!”

Not so with this one. There is actually a reason for this association. The lint roller is one of the most fantastic devices ever invented for …. Removing chemo hair! I am completely addicted to mine. I roll my head many times a day. It feels so pleasant to get that old, yucky hair out, off, and away. TMI? Probably. But now you know.

Anyway, there’s a small glimpse of today, this week, this life. Random thoughts that pass through my foggy brain. We’re doing well. We’re in His hands, the very best place to be.

 

This is the Perfect time NOT to blog...

I'm fine. I'm here. Things are okay. I'm not awful, but I am "off".

The last few days have been very roller-coaster-y. My emotions are just all over the place. First I'm just gushing at what a blessing Greg is (he IS!); then I'm watching Boo at swimming lessons and having a moment; then I'm freaking out about the air freshener and how we need to do "just one spritz!"

Sometimes I think this whole experience is helping me be more thoughtful and introspective. Then I realize that I'm eating Kraft Mac & Cheese like I' preggers. WHICH I AM NOT. But that is precisely the kind of cray-cray emotional ride I've got going. Crazy pregnant lady emotions. Oh yikes.

Therefore the last thing I need to do is put a bunch of garble-mumble on here about how I'm feeeeeeeeeling. Ugh. You just never know who else is on the Internets, y'know?

Last week's treatment was again, thank You God, very mild. No headaches, no vomiting, very little nausea. We have wonderful friends bringing incredible meals. The girls are doing so great. And even the dog is behaving herself lately.

So for now, know that I am still here. Still keepin' on. Not enjoying it all that much sometimes.

But mostly it's awesome. Here's a movie quote for you, "I'm just happy to be here. Write that down."

Let's Talk Climate Control

Okay, so I am now essentially bald. My hair started shedding to a rather annoying degree, so it had to come off.  The girls had a cutting and styling session, and then Greg buzzed it to about ½ inch.  I took it down even shorter for church on Sunday, but it’s still coming out. Argh! There’s hair everywhere. In my eyes, nose, and mouth, in my hats, on the pillow. I thought it was a good idea to cut it off, but now I’m not so sure. Two reasons:  1. Instead of long, soft hair all over, it’s now short, bristly, sharp hair and it’s not soft or smooth, but very ouchy. No likey. 2. I can’t figure out if I’m hot or cold. Half the time I’m freezing and half the time I’m sweaty.

Hair is the perfect insulator and now I don’t have that. I have many hats but they are all too warm, too scratchy, too stiff, too wrong. What I thought I needed and wanted was a couple of those soft cottony baby hats, like what they put on newborns in the nursery, but Jenni-sized. I thought that would be perfect, but it turns out the bristly-ness of my head makes wearing those actually painful. I think I’m going to have to have Greg shave it completely down to baby-bottom smooth and then keep it that way. Unfortunately, some of my chemo-resistant hair is still growing so I’ll have to actually “do” my hair, something I haven’t done in years.

Sorry about the whining. Let’s see…. Oh yes, on the plus side, I’ve been scheming about what will be a very lucrative “Waiter-there’s-a-hair-in-my-soup” racket.

And NO, there will not be pictures. I’m afraid one of you would mistake me for The Biggest Loser version of G.I. Jane. You stil want to see? Okay, picture this:  if I put my glasses on, I’d look like “before” pictures of Drew Carey. How’s that for a visual? You’re very welcome.

ACK- I forgot, I do have some FANTASTIC news! I talked to my Swedish surgeon's office today and a bilateral mastectomy is ALWAYS covered by insurance. It's apparently in their best intere$t$ to have them both come off since the risk increases exponentially that cancer would occur in the other side eventually. Woo Hoo! I had concerns that I'd be cyclop-tic after all this.

The Moral of the Story?

Never in my wildest imagination would I have believed you if you'd told me in June that we'd still be homeless in October. Nor would I have believed you if you said that not only would we still be homeless, but that we also would be without a source of running water. In the snow. Over an hour from town. With two little girls and a new puppy. And chemo. I definitely would not have believed the chemo part. But alas, that is our current state. All of it. All improbable, but all true.

Also true is the fact that we are enjoying nearly every minute of it.

Today I have two lovely tales to illustrate a lesson. See if you can determine the familiar moral of the story.

When I was a younger gal, yet just as chesty as today, I often dreamed of a time when I would be able to have a reduction. My gangly pre-teen years had vanished into the bosom-centric days of high school, even though I was as athletic as ever and wanting to compete at increasingly higher levels. My cup size demanded that I also spend money at increasingly higher increments to afford the kind of protection my girls needed from the dreaded bounce. So many fleeting thoughts of that pending reduction had crossed my mind over the decades, that by the time I met Greg at age 30, it was just a foregone conclusion that it would happen some day. I warned him twelve years ago not to become too attached. Famous last words it seems as I face a bilateral mastectomy in the coming year.

We are blessed to be house-sitting for some amazing friends. Amazing people who have literally let us invade and take over their home for far too long, yet without complaint. In fact, they have endured us with welcome smiles and seeming enthusiasm to have us all as roommates. Even the not-even-close-to-housebroken puppy. When I started chemo last week, I recalled one sentence in one of the hundreds of publications about chemo treatments that we've gathered up here lately. It said that chemo patients, because of their fragile immune systems, should be very wary of using well water. Danger of water-born diseases like giarddia and others is much higher for chemo gals like myself. Since then I have been fretting about this. For almost two months now, we've used only Juneau's finest well water for showering and cooking and laundry. Since Wednesday though, I have been using only bottled water and moaning about how I shouldn't be living this far from "civilization" in my condition. I kept nagging and pestering Greg about how awful and dreadful this whole situation is. On top of everything else, I wished I didn't have to cope with this water deal.

Well, well, well. Just this evening when we returned from town to our idyllic oasis in the wilderness, Greg turned on the tap to find only air wafting from the pipes. Hmm. Weird. Pump's out. No more water for us.

Lesson learned? Be careful what you wish for. Our God has an amazing sense of humor

It was almost like a song...

Today I am feeling very melancholy.  Even so, I almost always have a song in my head. Usually an old hymn. Sometimes a current praise song. Today? Oh boy! Ironically, I feel like doo-doo, but the song that keeps coming to me is making me giggle, just for it's utter and complete "wrongness" in this situation...

It's Hard to Be HumbleBy Mac Davis               [3/4 time]

C                                                           G7
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way
                             
I can't wait to look in the mirror 
                                C
Cause I get better looking each day
                           C7                  F
To know me is to love me I must be a hell of a man
                        C
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
        G7                    C
But I'm doing the best that I can
 
                                                          G7
I used to have a girlfriend but I guess she just couldn't compete
                                                              C
With all of these love-starved women who keep clamoring at my feet
                           
Well I probably could find me another 
                                  F
But I guess they're all in awe of me
                      C                G7                  C
Who cares I never get lonesome cause I treasure my own company
 
Repeat #1
                                                            G7
I guess you could say I'm a loner a cowboy outlaw tough and proud
 
Oh I could have lots of friends if I wanna 
                                   C
But them I wouldn't stand out in a crowd
 
Some folks say that I'm egotistical 
                                 F
Hell I don't even know what that means
                            C
I guess it has something to do with the way 
       G7                          C
That I fill out my skin-tight blue jeans
 
Repeat #1
 
Tag:
      G7                    C
We're doing the best that I can

collapsible

Feeling a little brittle and small and yucky today. Looking forward so much to our move into town. It will be a big blessing to be near my helpers and friends. Thank you each one!

symptoms galore

Well, the nausea, drymouth, fatigue, and headache hit about 4pm. I then hit the rack very early and woke up around 530am to..... a fantastic self! No nausea, I was very thirsty (dehydration can be an issue), and I felt just GREAT! Said many prayers of thanksgiving to the One who provides, then grabbed two more hours of sleep.

Heading in to town right now to get my injection of Nuelasta a very spendy drug (my co-pay was only $50, but the insurance picked up the remainder of the over $4000 tab, thank God) to help build up the white cells in my bone marrow that the A/C from yesterday decimated. Looking forward to having this shot over so I can see what my reaction will be. It'll be great to better prepare next time.

Coming soon: a post to explain all this "God stuff". Blessings!!

Femur MRI clear, but da chemo done come

So GREAT news about the femur. Looks fine, but they're putting it on the list of things to look at again in six months, along with my lungs and liver.

The chemo is very tolerable so far. Actually, I feel pretty fantastic, but a little headache is wanting to blossom soon so we are heading home for the day.

Sorry for the shorty-pants post, but well, I've got a doctor's note, people.

Deep thought for the day: Is it okay to play the cancer card on telemarketers? Please comment!

Also, if any of you are knitters, take a look at this and if it strikes your fancy, I'd LOVE one... in qiviut. HA! Little joke there. A darker royal blue would be good, or brown, or olive drab to match my eyes. Just looking for something a little fancy for church and snuggling in all the rest of the time.
 http://earthfaire.com/lace-puffs-smoke-ring-pattern-p-3272.html

Am I Really Ready for Anything?

Greg and I have talked and talked about what the future might bring. We are truly ready for anything, or so I thought.



Not that we think Greg is going anywhere, but we've done our wills, we've found guardians for the girls (thanks you guys!!), we've realigned our priorities, and organized our investments and retirement stuff. All our beneficiary designations are set to rights. All our cards are in order. We've talked to the girls about how sometimes mommies need to go to heaven when they have breast cancer and how God has a plan that we really have no input with. Ready! All bases covered! Right?

Maybe not.

The four of us planned on going to an evening of worship and singing last night at a local church. It was a fundraiser for a new non-profit directed at women who are transitioning out of prison. However, in the parking lot, the girls were arguing, everyone was tired. We almost cancelled and just went home. But at the last minute, which was really 20 minutes into the show, we decided unanimously to give it a try. It was a HUGE blessing! We were meant to be there, by which I mean I was meant to be there. What a God thing!

When a friend also in attendance asked about me I realized she didn't know about the cancer and chemo dance I've been doing; I replied with my standard, "We are ready for anything." She said, "Really? Are you ready for Him to heal you and save you? Are you ready to accept His gift of life? Are you ready to receive the blessings He pours out on you?"

Woah.

I don't think I was. I might still not be, but I am going to dig into the Word and try to prepare myself for the fact that I may plow through this and be fine on the other side. That I will be alive and blessed on the other side. Even though I don't deserve it, God may be planning on it, and I need to be ready to receive it as the awesome gift it is.

The very last song of the night was like a message just for me: "Greater things have yet to come, Greater things are yet to be done..." AMEN! Thank You Gracious Father.

PS: These pictures are from our Hawaii vacation in February. I love taking pictures of flowers and scenery and trees and stuff in case you couldn't tell. Hard to find anything that's not beautiful there.

Deep Thoughts from pre-chemoville

• Why have I had several very good hair days this week, right at the exact time I'm going to lose it all?
• I've been finding bright sides all over the place... don't cancer patients often lose lots of weight? Well, I've been banking on that, but my doc now tells me that due to some incredible advancements in anti-nausea meds, most chemo-ites actually gain weight. Super.
• This year, Greg and I did the AukeMan, which was so fun. This was about two weeks after I found my lump (which was really more of a huge growth that inhabited my whole right you-know-what). I'm thinking if I can get through the chemo crud and on to the surgery part and recovered from that, I may have a chance at doing the 2013 Aukeman! That's my goal at this point, but I'm not sure how realistic it is. We'll know more as we get going with the treatments.



AukeMan 2012: crossing the finish line with a final (and solitary) burst of speed!

Super Auke Dude blowing by everyone in the bike leg.

Huh. Guess I didn't have as many deep thoughts as I thought I did. Not much of a post, really.  Maybe I can redeem this with a recent picture? This was taken last night at the lodge where we've been living since late August.

On the plus side, I am feeling absolutely GREAT today! I usually (at least 4 or 5 days a week for the last 4+ years) have a terrible headache all day as well as sniffles and sinus congestion. Today, I am good. I had to take a 5-hour nap to achieve such heights, but I'm happy to have a nice evening to look forward to. Greg just got home with pizza. We've got some fun company tonight and great friends/roommates/hosts... What a blessed day!

Sick people need to be organized!

We have had about 7 gazillion appointments and/or consultations since last week. I'm trying hard to keep track of it all, but I'm a bit of a slouch so far on that. Here's the latest:

• WE'RE HOME! We got back to Juneau on Sunday and have been looking for a rental that will take a really big dog. Keta grew SO much in two weeks. Pictures later.
• The bone scan was pretty clear except for a small area on my upper left femur. I'm having an MRI this Friday to take a closer look, but the risk is small that there is any metastasis.
• The surgery for my port went well, but it is still pretty sore and the area needs to heal a bit more before we use it on...
• Wednesday of next week, which is my first day of chemo! On Tuesday, I have a general work-up to check my heart and blood levels, then if everything is AOK, we'll get the big guns on Wednesday.
• Therefore, if any of you are attached to my lovely locks, please say your fare-thee-wells now. It will all be leaving shortly.  But first...
• The girls and Greg are going to have a hair cutting party. I'm going to let the girls give me a style (?) of their choosing and then we'll just shave it all off after that instead of watching it come out in clumps later. And yes, we will take pictures. Not sure if we will share or not. :)
• Thursday of next week I get yet another injection to help build up the bone marrow that will be affected during the chemo.
• My treatments will be every other week so I should be relatively normal during the off week as I'm healing up for another treatment.
• I'm so looking forward to being strong and healthy again next spring/summer. I'm also looking forward to an introspective, productive winter season, doing a lot of reading and sleeping, and praying of course.
• We are so thankful to Our Amazing Lord God for, as Gwen put it in her blessing over dinner last night, "giving Mommy a type of cancer that is easy to treat." Amen, kiddo!

No other news right now, but thanks again for all your prayers and inquiries about helping. We can't think of anything yet, but we'll start making a list of ways you can help if you want to. Anyone want to fly up here and do laundry? :)

It is a V.G.D.!!!

Let me just say that I don't think there's ever been quite as much Kirk Gibson arm pumping going on at Swedish Hospital as there was today... The PET/CT scan shows the cancer has not spread to other organs or other areas! WOO HOO!!!! Thank you Lord for your protection and help!

 

We still have a bone scan on Wednesday (at 6:45am - ugh!) that, according to our Doc, could possibly show some metastasis (spreading), but at this point it's "unlikely".

 

This is such good news! I didn't even realize I was tense about this, but it comes as a huge relief, and now we're all exhausted. Greg's napping and we're all just taking it easy for the rest of today. Our Doc is all-business so we stifled our ('inappropriate' my right ta-ta) explosions of glee until we had a few moments alone. Has anyone seen me tap dance? Well, you missed your chance today! Have you seen Greg grin really hard? (Hey, he's an engineer - that IS excitement for him!) Gwen is optimistic that "they can just chop it off then, right?" Nothing like cutting right to the chase there, kid.

 

Tomorrow brings a surgical call bright and early at 5:30 am (sometimes I wonder if they are trying to kill me! haha) and then I will be recovering the rest of the day at a lovely little historic hotel right next to Swedish. I'm having a port put in my left neck/chest area so that they can administer the chemo meds through it over the next few weeks (months, more likely) and not have to stick me over and over, and/or risk my veins collapsing. Hopefully Greg and the girlies can get out and about for some fun in the big city while I lounge on the couch watching SOCCER!

 

FYI, we are leaning toward heading back to Juneau for the chemo so we can be close to friends and church family, and to all that is near and dear to us, such as fresh air, clean water, peace and quiet, darkness, and our dog. This could of course change depending on the results of the bone scan.

 

 

As always, we'll keep y'all in the loop and ask you to keep us in your prayers.

BTW, VGD = Very Good Day!! :)

Thinking Positively

OK, so you all know I'm at Swedish. The weather is amazing, but I would not recommend a core biopsy. Ouch! and &%$#@!!!

 

I now have a clinical diagnosis of breast cancer, but the pathology results will be back tomorrow and we'll have a better idea of treatments at that time. So far, the surgeon recommends chemo first to shrink the tumor then surgery after that. Not sure on the timing at this point. He also recommends a masectomy on the right side for starters. I may get a double whammy out of this before it's all over.

That's the news from here. I'll keep you posted as I can. Blessings!

I got those biopsy blues

We're heading down to Swedish Hospital in Seattle for a while. Not sure what to expect, but we'll have results a week from today. Please keep us all in your prayers. Thanks!

Fingers Crossed for Pictures...

Amelia picking dandelions while Greg leaves for a spring bear hunt.

Gwendolyn picking dandelions in the rare sunshine.

Beautiful flowers from beautiful girls.

Back to our normal rainy days.

We took a homeschool hike to the flume where much of the city's water supply comes down from the glaciers.

More lovely flowers to pick.

Can't resist a scenery shot or two. Didn't see any bears this trip, but did see one porcupine munching away.

UAS Community Day found us with lots of fun crafts to do, sights to see, and music to hear.
Here are two girlies with a big, metal raven.

Congrats to both Gwen and Amelia for successful completion of Sunday School.

Both girls were given their very own  Bibles as reward for memorizing all 66 books of the Bible.

The depths of Auke Lake where we took a hike with some homeschool friends last spring, and where Greg and I did the swimming leg of the triathlon in August.

Auke Lake Trail

Auke Lake Trail

bullet points for speed

• Gabby Douglas is absolutely gorgeous; she's a beautiful girl inside and out, and her hair is FINE, people. God bless her in every way!
• We are homeless. House-sitting this week (and watching Olympics--can you tell?), then camping for the duration. Might move from Juneau. If you've been wanting to visit, now's the time, before we leave this burg.
• We got a puppy! She's awesome and her name is Keta Roe. Just over 2-months old. Chesapeake Bay Retriever. So fun.
• Greg and I are doing a Sprint Distance Triathlon on Saturday. Check out our times later at www.aukeman.weebly.com
• Amelia got a haircut today. Serious cut. Woah. Pixie. Adorable. Astonishing that it's adorable since I cut it myself.
• Still homeschooling. Still loving it. Go ahead and ask the girls what ureters are. Dare ya.
• I lost my wedding ring at the campground last month. The replacement was only $28! Woo Hoo!
• Good news: the tire jack in the pick-up works just fine and the patch is holding.
• Visitors are on the way! Yay!
• Blueberries this year are the sweetest, unwormiest we've had in a long time.
• Did I mention we've been homeless for over a month now? The girls love announcing that to everyone they meet. Before folks start whipping out non-perishables to offer us, I make sure to have the girls also explain that we are not destitute. We have everything we need. Except a house.
• I've got a raging case of mastitis (I hope). Those breast-feeding moms among you will understand that, but get this: I haven't breast fed in over 4 years. Why the infection? No idea, but it does make me float higher in the water which will come in handy during the 750 meter swim on Saturday.
• Luckily I'm quite buoyant regardless.
• Greg and I celebrated 10 years of wedded bliss on June 21. How times flies.
• Speaking of which, gotta go. Stay tuned for pictures before the end of the year. But don't count on it.