I'm not going to try and cough up a reason for my lack of updates. Seriously, I can't even think of a good excuse. But here's a picture my husband took of a squirrel eating a Butterfinger...
The excuse well has runneth dry. Obviously.
So. Chemo. For now, our boys are done. Dad officially finished chemo about a month ago, and Sam finished about 2 weeks ago. They'll both have scans in a few weeks to see exactly where they stand tumor-wise. We're really REALLY hoping that the chemo they've had has trampled their cancer crop fields for good. I can't tell you how awesome that would be. Like, miracle awesome. But until we know for sure, they're both just trying to recover from having received 6 months worth of cell killing infusions. You'd think that once chemo was over, life would just go on. I wish it could be that simple. I assure you, it is not.
First of all, you've got the side effects from all those drugs. Side effects that have built up over time, which makes them exponentionally more hideous to deal with. Secondly, and this might be the worst part, you've got the worry. Worry about whether or not the cancer is really gone. Worry about whether or not the side effects will be long term issues. Worry about whether or not your body can take over the job of eliminating those pesky wayward cells like it's supposed to. You don't necessarily trust it's ability to perform that seemingly simple task anymore. Sometimes I catch myself giving Sam's and Dad's lymph nodes the "mom" look. You know, that look of death you give your kids when they're screwing around. The one that doesn't require any words whatsoever. The one that could melt steel with it's laser precision. I wonder if lymph nodes respond better to that look than kids do. Let's hope so.
The good news is that energy levels and appetites are improving. Slowly. More slowly in Dad's case. But considering the strength of the chemo he had, a slower recovery is definitely to be expected. We went up to Park City for the 4th of July, and just in the 4 days we were there, I noticed a definite improvement. I'm starting to realize that it's kind of a 2 steps forward, 1 step back type of thing. One morning I caught him riding up a mountain on his bike though, so maybe he took 3 steps forward last weekend. And the hair! The hair is coming in so nicely. Sam has already reached his normal state of brillo pad-ness, and Dad's head is looking like a giant grey tennis ball. I think he's secretly hoping that his leg hair won't grow back. Not me. I'm so not cool with my dad having sexier legs than me. SO not cool.
Things are getting better. Things are getting more normal. I mean, not that we were ever very normal, but we're getting closer to our version of normal than we've been for a very long time. It feels good.
Proof of our normal-ness...
Lake Powell is next on the agenda. Perfect place to be right before the PET scan that will determine the next 6 months of your life.