Galveston...

Obviously have not mastered the self photo


The crazies going out to swim


Tag


Taunting the hermit crab, bred in captivity, with the illusion of freedom


Feeding the birds


The moms


Watching cartoons


The crazies in the pool (65 degrees out)


Jumping sand dunes





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On a jet plane...

While packing our hospital essentials for round 3...

Me:  I'm rocking out Cancer Wife, so you know you can never leave me now without being the world's biggest jerk. 

Chris:  (matter of fact) Babe, there's only one reason I'll leave you. 

Me:  (genuinely intrigued) What's that? 

Chris:  If you get sick.  There's no way I can do all of this.

I threw some clothes at him but was secretly pleased because in Chris-speak that translates to: "Thank you.  I love you.  You're amazing."

A Valentine's day of sorts...

Lottery tickets for Chris (I know, classy)...

A Valentine's greeting from the boys

And hanging out with my favorite guy...

Update on Chris...

There's an update on Chris here:

PET scan

Lucky boots...

I know that all of you keeping up at home are wondering about Chris' PET scan results. We still don't know but should find out tomorrow. What, I'm sure, is also weighing heavily on your mind:

What did Summer wear to the hospital Friday?

I got dressed Friday morning without really thinking and found myself in a skirt with hose and my fierce black boots. My usual daily dress code is

1. Casual - yoga pants, tennis shoes, t-shirt
2. Dressy - yoga pants, tennis shoes, solid color t-shirt without a logo and earrings

On Friday I realized that on hospital days, I invariably dress up - like in a skirt or a dress and shod in non-tennis shoes. I think that at a subconscious level I've decided that nothing too bad can happen if I'm wearing something nice.


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Location:Lucky boots...

Ready, set, wait...

Tomorrow is a big day for us.  Chris has a PET scan to determine whether this chemo regimen is working.  It is an apt representation of the entire cancer experience - full of ambiguity, inconclusiveness, apprehension, and waiting.  Basically the PET scan will indicate whether the tumor is responding.  Possible outcomes:

1. The tumor appears to be smaller than it was two months ago.  That's good news.  Probably.  We won't know for sure until they take the tumor out after surgery (early April) and get pathology results on it (early May).  So, tears of joy that diminish as you realize you... STILL... DON'T... KNOW.
2. The tumor looks about the same as it did two months ago.  That's, at a minimum, very depressing news.  It means we start over on chemo with four more rounds before surgery.   The doctor claims that this is not the time to get upset as a lot of people who respond well to treatment in the end, don't respond to the first regimen.  But the mathematician (and emotional, neurotic mess) in me disagrees.  In this scenario, we have surgery in early June and conclusive pathology results in July.  So, hysterical tears that more gradually diminish as you realize you... STILL... DON'T... KNOW.

Lord have mercy, there has got to be an easier way to learn patience.

Not the melody...

This is just to say that I'm afraid this internet glimpse of my cancer life is skewed. If it looks like I'm handling this with mostly grace and humor and just enough rage to keep me human, that's all wrong. I'm just not going to write,

"I freaked out on the kids today. Bryan wouldn't stop talking during spelling and Jacob lost his book and David kept dropping a metal yo-yo and I yelled and made everyone cry and now Rand wants me to hold him forever and David's apologizing for things that aren't his fault and Jacob's putting on more wristbands and Bryan has stuffed it all down in a way that I'm sure will come to visit us when he's a teenager and all I want to do is run away with Chris ALONE and make cancer come untrue."

every day. So you're getting the snatches of beauty and humor that play like grace notes but not melody in this terrible cancer song.

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