Just the news, which isn't much. I finished the first round of Xeloda pretty uneventfully, saw the oncologist today just to check in and make sure I'm up to start a new round. Apparently it's doing something, whether or not it's killing cancer we don't know. It did knock my hemoglobin down as low as it was after six cycles of carpoplatin and taxotere (fondly known as taxoterrible) last year, when I was so exhausted and couldn't breathe. So that's a little worrisome, since this is just the end of round one, but explains the bone-numbing fatigue that is so much a part of cancer treatment. We won't scan to see if it's working until after three rounds, so late October, assuming the treatment hasn't killed me by then. Gallows humor, always in good taste.
I decided to break down and get a disability placard, since we're about to go on a long road trip. So, really mixed feelings about that. I've always been independent and strong, and this whole chronic sick thing is remarkably humbling.
I'm looking forward to going to Maine, but realizing that there won't be any mountain trail hiking or lighthouse climbing this time. Makes me really glad for all the times we did that when we could. We'll be about a mile up the road from where we were last year, in Owl's Head, and the house looks like it's got a great ocean view with a lawn that goes right down to the water. I'm sure we will think of fun things to do that don't require me to do too much walking. We always manage. It will be a new experience to load the car with an oxygen concentrator and portable tanks. I'm awfully lucky that Greg is such a sturdy man to do all that lifting and toting.
Tristan is taking the chickens, pen, house, and all to his tiny lot in Lakewood for the duration. Bless his heart.
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