Here is my official list of excuses for not posting for so long:
- lazy
- life has been routine/mundane and didn't want to bore you with my laundry stain removal methodology
- excessive screen time ... spend 7-8 hours a day in front of a computer at work and when I come home ... well, very little excitement about doing that some more
- had a spell of weird eye aches, dry eye, dizzy eyes from chemo I believe
- been pretty busy
- when returning from California in January came home to a sick cat (iMac OS X "Lion"), wouldn't boot, hard drive not well, didn't have computer for THREE DAYS - new hard drive healthy - now have Mountain Lion OS, new stuff to learn
- stupidly ruined computer keyboard this week using spray cleaner - didn't have computer for 24 HOURS - another trip to Apple Store and $49 poorer
- did taxes, wrote checks, ouch! PA has state and local income taxes. OUCH!!
- March Madness
- no interesting stories to tell ... until now
As far as my pancreatic cancer goes, I try not to notice it.
I know. That's denial. I should change the name of this blog from "Deal with the Real" to "Deal with Denial"!
It's just that for me trying to live a mostly "normal" life is much more fun than living the "cancer" life.
What would you do?
I have no discomfort or pain from the cancer. Some issues with the chemo of course.
I have not had any serious colds, flus, kidney stones, etc.
I eat very well, anything I want. Still haven't found any low-fat butter though.
I am on the "chemo coaster" since January 2. Five pills in the morning with food and five pills in the evening with food for 14 days and then one week off. I don't know why, but it feels like I am taking pills every half hour. I convinced my oncologist, Dr. Yee, to change it to two weeks chemo/two weeks off. Right now I am enjoying the middle of two weeks off. I go for blood test this Monday and appointment w/Yee on Wed., April 3 to make sure I am "chemo-ready"; set to start April 6.
My CT scan on March 4 showed the tumor has essentially not changed in size. Woo,woo! That was really good news. The blood tumor marker was up a little from 152 to 208, but Dr. Yee was not alarmed by that, saying that number will go up and down. I hope next week it is down.
I did have a sort of weird panic attack about two weeks ago. I was driving to work and all of sudden I starting thinking that I have to more pro-active, more aggressive in treating this cancer. I told Barb, I don't know what sparked it. I was just thinking that I was not doing enough. Maybe I should be doing more that riding the chemo coaster. After a heart-to-heart w/Barb we concluded that we have upmost confidence in Dr. Yee and like his level of confidence which is very professional and sensible and not boastful or over-the-top like one of Barb's doctors who thought he was a Savior. So we're staying on this train track for now.
My chemo side shows include:
- Sleeplessness, for which I have some pills that help
- Achey, dry eyes, for which I use artificial tears, but they don't seem to help much
- diarrhea, for which I take Imodium
- Hand and foot Syndrome, or chemotherapy-induced acral erythema, for which I use Udderly SMOOTH Extra Care Cream w/Urea. My hands are very dry and the skin very smooth and dry surfaced - like a tight clear vinyl glove or snake skin. This started to show up at the end of the second cycle and got worse upon my last (third) cycle. It is painful and washing my hands often, does not help the problem. I have a crack on my thumb that is causing me problems now
- dry mouth, dry hair, dry skin, cracking finger nails - some of which I hope warmer temps and less man-made heating will help lessen, spring has be slow to bloom
What actually gave me impetus to post is that yesterday — Good Friday — our oldest son, Adam, sent us a text that "we now have a doctor in the family. Anybody need a doctor?" Yipeee! He had just finished defending his doctoral dissertation: Surface to Surface: War, Image & the Senses in the
Screenic Era (not sure that was the final title) in Minneapolis. He has worked very, very hard on this ... AND NOW HAS A PHD in English from the University of Minnesota. He is currently teaching in the Communications Dept at Fresno Pacific University. We are extremely proud and I couldn't help but brag about him.
And then our youngest son, Charles, who lives in Seattle and works at the Lazarus Day Center for Catholic Community Services, told us earlier this month that he had housed his 50th client. His clients are homeless men!! The city of Seattle had given him the goal of placing 35 homeless men into housing in a year. This is fantastic! Especially considering he spent the first three months in the new position getting a computer and a phone! At his current rate, he hopes to house 75-100 homeless this year. Couldn't be more happy about that.
And then yet, more exciting news... we have learned that Adam and Annie are expecting a baby Schmidt/Schrag in September. Cool. We will become grandparents and join other boastful grandparents. Move over Patton (our grand dog)!
So ... last evening we had a profound and meaningful Good Friday service at Pilgrims Mennonite Church where we attend. It was a Tenebrae (Latin for 'darkness' or 'shadows') service with the gradual extinguishing of candles through the service as scriptures were read and songs were sung. The procession of the last candle which was taken from the meeting room to be brought back at Easter was accompanied by a 1927 recording of "Dark was the Night, Cold was the Ground" played by late gospel blues singer and guitarist, Blind Willie Johnson. It was great.
But it was during the singing of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" that I got all emotional. Between Jesus dying for me, my stalled cancer and my great family, I lost it! I couldn't sing. I grabbed my trusty hanky and wiped my nose and tried to hold back. I thought I was going to cry audibly, so I quickly looked up at the ceiling to stifle the tears and swelling joy. I am tearing up just writing about it. It was a memorable Good Friday.
Now I have another special hymn. Call me old school, but I like the text by Isaac Watts:
And then yet, more exciting news... we have learned that Adam and Annie are expecting a baby Schmidt/Schrag in September. Cool. We will become grandparents and join other boastful grandparents. Move over Patton (our grand dog)!
So ... last evening we had a profound and meaningful Good Friday service at Pilgrims Mennonite Church where we attend. It was a Tenebrae (Latin for 'darkness' or 'shadows') service with the gradual extinguishing of candles through the service as scriptures were read and songs were sung. The procession of the last candle which was taken from the meeting room to be brought back at Easter was accompanied by a 1927 recording of "Dark was the Night, Cold was the Ground" played by late gospel blues singer and guitarist, Blind Willie Johnson. It was great.
But it was during the singing of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" that I got all emotional. Between Jesus dying for me, my stalled cancer and my great family, I lost it! I couldn't sing. I grabbed my trusty hanky and wiped my nose and tried to hold back. I thought I was going to cry audibly, so I quickly looked up at the ceiling to stifle the tears and swelling joy. I am tearing up just writing about it. It was a memorable Good Friday.
Now I have another special hymn. Call me old school, but I like the text by Isaac Watts:
When I
survey the wondrous cross
on
which the Prince of Glory died;
my
richest gain I count but loss,
and
pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid
it, Lord, that I should boast,
save
in the death of Christ, my God!
all
the vain things that charm me most,
I
sacrifice them through his blood.
See,
from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow
and love flow mingled down!
Did
e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or
thorns compose so rich a crown.
Were
the whole realm of nature mine,
that
were an offering far too small;
love
so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.
Happy Easter everyone.
Happy Easter everyone.
