Ramblin' Man

It's autumn in the Willamette Valley. The trees are changing their clothes, preparing for the chilly winds of winter. The dogs that walk their companions through the park are wearing their coats a little more tightly these days (no kidding, I just saw two greyhounds walk by with those little racing blankies tied to their necks). And my cold sensitivity has put me in constant touch with the neurons in the soles of my feet, fingertips, and nose in ways that cannot be adequately described in words. Let's just say that I am in a state of constant awareness when it comes to those areas of my body, and leave it at that, OK? :)

But, today only, there is actual good news from the peripheral neuropathy department... little or no additional skin tingling on my upper right abdomen! This decrease is likely due to the lower dosage of oxaliplatin that was infused on last Tuesday - in response to my concern about the "spread" of skin tingling being indicative of the beginning of a chronic condition (and we do *not* want anything like that).

And what else... thanks so much for the quick, supportive comments on the blog! It seems like forever that this odd-venture has been going on, and I appreciate the continuous sense of hugs and care that buoys me up each time I check-in at blog central. I just spoke to my Mom, and she reminded me that this blog sometimes gets printed out and mailed around for those folks that are still more attached to the non-electronic forms of communication. I can only say, in partial defense, that if I even TRIED to hand-write notes to all of you, I would feel a miserable failure due to the volume of email and cards I get. And for all of that potential misery, you have my eternal thanks.

These days right after chemo are the slowly plodding left-right, left-right days in this treatment regimen... then things start to pick up until just before the next treatment... as does the dread that accompanies the anticipated resumption of the plodding. What can I say? I want to jog around the park, or at least walk it once or twice. I want to start getting my legs in shape for skiing. I want to eat bloody red meat (and taste it too), and wash it down with a decent glass of hearty red wine. Then there's the dessert... I want to wrestle (gently, of course) with my daughter, and not worry about clonking that silly (but essential) port-a-cath. I want to be able to plan a weekend without worrying about where it lands in relation to the bi-weekly chemo-hell...

OK. Now we know that Ed can complain as well as wax philosophical. I DO see a light at the end of this tunnel, and I know it's not a train wreck waiting to happen. So where does that leave this blog post? Rambling around, no beginning, no end? Maybe that's it... no beginning, no end.

Peace to you and yours, and for our tiny blue ball as well.