5 down, 1 to go.

YEAH.....BOY!

1 treatment to go.
5 year anniversary Friday!
Deacs in the ACC Champ game Saturday...
Don't go back to Duke for a month.
Christmas Vacation.
Tiki Bar anyone???

Che P

Love to you all

I'll take the Fifth.

I've been poked and prodded a bit over the past few days. There was the ever so pleasant hour stuck in the tube MRI to get Thanksgiving week started off properly last week and yesterday, I was back for the GRF (kidney) and various Echo heart tests. All three I'm sure looked normal since I haven't received and alarming phonecalls.

Currently, I'm in the standard Tuesday holding pattern at home. When a room is ready, I'll jet off to Durham and begin the hasty 5 hour process to get into the room that has been "ready." This technique actually works much better that sitting there all day having bloodwork in the AM, then waiting for a room.

Chemo normally begins around 5 or 6. By 7, I usually ask the family to continue their argument (on lunar orbit, English grammar, etc) out in the hall, turning off the lights and closing the door behind them. As I've said, the nausea meds have made this go by easier each time in different ways.

This process has been tough on the body, mind, spirit and relationships. Though I feel all will return stronger, forcing them into these weakened positions risks damage both in the present and future. Hopefully, the next step in the treatment will be aimed at these side effects and everything will come back not the same but stronger.

I've had a couple of serious thoughts I've shared in previous posts. I hope they are thought inspiring and not simply depressing.

Yesterday Clark and I met a father at the hospital waiting while we were waiting for some tests. He walked over and started conversing as we discussed the helicopter taking off over our heads from the roof top. His weathered face was strong, but tired, painting clearly the picture of the hardships he was having to endure. His daughter had a sarcoma as well, but one that had already spread to her lymphnodes when first detected.

She had just finished what sounded to be a worse and more intense regiment of chemo than myself and was getting ready to have surgery tomorrow. She was 5 or 6 and was having half her foot removed. They hoped this, in conjunction with the chemo shrinking the other tumor and some follow up radiation in the pelvic region should give her a good chance.

The little girl had a beautiful smile the whole time. She was laughing about silly things like how her hair all fell out at once and how rotten some of the chemos had been. It was calming to see how she so nobly had totally accepted the situation and was willing to do whatever it took. As her father explained, she wasn't upset about losing her foot and doing all the treatments. These kids have unbelievable strength and a wonderfully naive and natural will to survive that is inspiring.

These ordeals can be so much harder on the families than the patients. Although the loved-one is sick, you are completely helpless and unable to help them physically. For the parent of a small child, I'm sure this is magnified. Trust me, it is noticeable on the parent's faces every time we go to the Peds floor or clinic. The important lesson comes from looking past the sadness to find the hope, faith and love of all these people. There is an incredibly strong underlying positive vibe present that makes me very happy I've have the privilege to go through this experience on the pediatric ward..

Clark and I talked about it...how my situation could have been so much worse, how we all need to remember in life to be mindful of what's important, and always how we must be grateful for what we have. It still is surreal to have been snatched from the comfort of my life into this world. We've adapted and are moving ahead. That's simply how it's done. I love you all and can truly feel your love and support. You HAVE helped us through this unbelievable time.

This thing is almost over.

3 days until out 5th year wedding anniversary
27 days until Christmas.
30 days until my last treatment.
47 days until my 31st Birthday
164 days until ashley's big 3 0. (I think that's the one she's most excited about, well a close second to me finishing chemo)

CP

Happy Thanksgiving

Although scary and a little inconvenient to say the least, I feel like I have alot to be thankful for this year. Treatments have gone well, the cancer hasn't spread (knock on wood), and I have received unimaginable support and love from all my friends and family.

I really am thankful for that.

My gift to you is www.tikibartv.com. Enjoy the silly antics of Dr. Tiki, Lala, Johnny Johnny, and assorted guests. Yes, it is stupid. Yes, I like cheap, tasteless, mindless entertainment. Yes, I am a nerd...the almost entirely hairless variety. Knock back two or three episodes when you have some time to kill. Addiction could be inevitable.

Have a great Thanksgiving. I start the 5th treatment Tuesday, then after a month off and Christmas, I finish.

CP

Like Tiger said, "I CAIN'T"

Hope everyone had a good weekend. Honestly mine went very well. Nothing to exciting about it, just pleasant. Here's a Chronicle from coming home Friday.

Part of my routine has become going straight from the hospital to get a treatment of acupuncture. While normally creating a noticeably relaxing, and positive effect, this last one created a bit of a memorable situation.

As I've explained, they truly open the IV floodgates during my stay in Durham. The goal is to keep me going to the bathroom at least once an hour to keep my system flushed and protect my kidneys and bladder from the chemo. Other than gaining 15lbs each treatment and looking like King Kong Bundy, it's been tolerable. I will have to say life has been interesting and an eighth of a ton. What an accomplishment.

So....I'm on the acupunture table Friday about 30 minutes into the treatment. Combined with the 45 drive to the place from the hospital and no bathroom break,options and strategies begin.

Simultaneously, a potential client having just finished their initial consultation enters in the hallway....

Looking like Hellraiser meets Bald Bull from Mike Tyson's Punch Out, I made my way down the hall with needles in my arms, legs, forehead, ear, and stomach, strolling casually past an unexpecting Ashley, the owner, his new client, and the receptionist.

Funny image. I'm still laughing thinking about it.


Thanks for checking in. As if this year wasn't crazy enough, the Deacs are 9-1....?

2006 What the?

Pretty Smooth Sailing

I'm trying a new anti-nausea medication this time that really seems to be working. I wake up feeling relatively good. Could be the drug, could be the cocktail of the 7 other things I'm taking as well. I know one or two get you a little fluffed.

The chemo treatments are a bit more intense during the actual treatment and right after. Having the next day in the hospital not be so bad is a serious plus. I hope that rough second day back when I get home has decided to get on the bus as well. One more treatment tonite then I'm homefree for another two weeks.

As far was what's left ...aside from the occational scan

Nov. 28
Dec. 26

Thanks for your love and support, and for the Deacs football season.

My nurses got a kick out of the blog this afternoon. They wanted me to post this picture of a bulletin board in the hall. You might notice the big kid.

Isn't it a little funny, don't you think?

Monday.
A twelve year old patient slowly wheels up next to me and stops near the water fountain. I was just waiting as usual for a blood tests or admission in the Children's Hospital. After that moment of silence and my assuming that he wanted to chat, I said something generic like. "how's treatment going? I've noticed we're on the same schedule." Easily the details, diagnosis, etc of our situations come out. He's a great, realistic kid with a good attitude and a bone sarcoma on his knee. He asked me which drugs I've taken, so I told him...ifos and dox. "I've taken ifos. Have you taken Chemo Extreme?" "Nope." "Then you've had it easy, that stuff's the worst." I say Chemo Extreme, because I can't rememeber the name. After the kid was done serving me on how his chemo was better than mine, his mom must have smelled blood in the water. She didn't hesitate to jump in and tag team with Alex, remarking on the horrid chemo and using scary facial expressions to let me know this stuff was BAD. I managed to get my composure, but when Moms said, "nobody pushes Alex around," I had to give him a love nudge with my foot, sending him and the chair back about six feet. He looked like he wanted to come after me, but I was keeping an eye on "Million Dollar Baby's Momma" over to the right. The smoke settled and we agreed to squash it and erase the hate. After fist loves around , we walked and wheeled away as friends. Let's face it, we're both on the Cute Kids Photo Board together on the Children's Floor. Pray for these kids. The are so cute, innocent, and strong (so are their families). I would never kick a kid in a wheel chair because he was insinuating his chemo was cooler than mine. Only the wholesome funny parts of the story are true.

Tuesday
Ashley and I tried a new techique to wait at home for a room to be ready after doing bloodwork the previous day (and getting served). We were psyched because it was supposed to cut down on hospital limbo waiting until a room was ready. Our not so firendly previous tenant aka. "the Unibomber" had other ideas. Apparenly when the nurse came in to do a final check on the room that was quite the surprise under towel #2 in the bathroom. They informed us of the crappy situation and that finally the matter was resolved.

Chemo was somewhat delayed do to port irritability, but after raising both hands and coughing loud, we figured out how to get the port working. Very scientific.

I'm checked in, laying in bed a fairly large room. Typing is somewhat of a challenge. The family has diligently split up the hours of visitation with me to the minute. Currently, I've got my bride.

2 treatments this time down, 3 to go. Felt worst during treament but much better when I woke up. Treatments should take place around 6-8pm.

See you soon. Thanks for checking in.

Mr. Clean

CT chest scan this morning. Everything looked normal, the same, great, whatever you want to call it. We're relieved.

Round four starts Tuesday. My crossbow sights are on New Years.

Although 2006 will always be fondly remembered, I'm looking forward to 2007, hopefully known in the future as the year of little surprises. (That in no way indicates we're going to have a kid(s) in 2007, no way...)

Thanks. CP

PS. I decided on a last minute Lex Luther