Dear family and friends,
"We make plans, and God laughs"
How much truth there is to this simple, 6-word country-folk nugget of wisdom? This cancer "detour" along the road of our journey was unexpected, there were no warning signs posted miles before, the details not available on the internet to check before we set off. It accomplishes little to lament the stuff we were going to do this summer. Instead, Julie and I choose to focus on what is important right now.
What is important now is that Julie just had her seventh chemo (of eight) this last Thursday in Seattle. Back in April, just after Julie's diagnosis, her oncologist laid out the road-map for the first "leg" of treatment... 16 weeks of chemo. We were both hit hard by this, and quietly wondered how we would make it through to the end of four months of medically-supervised chemical poisoning. Nonetheless, here we are today, still (mostly) strong and determined. And of course, the answer to the "how" is now obvious and humbling to the two of us... it is the support, love and energy of a whole lot of great folks. There is no adequate way we can ever thank all of you sufficiently. All we can do is stay focused and work hard to do what must be done. I find myself coming back to the advice I gave a few weeks ago to a shipmate whose 3-yr old daughter is critically ill: accept what you have no control over, stay calm and dig down to add as much value where you can. I am learning that we are stronger than we thought.The cycle of feeling "low" and "less-low" over the two weeks after chemo seems much more pronounced since Julie's switch to Taxol. The pain comes sooner after the Thursday, and is deeper than before. She is taking, and we are enforcing, a carefully timed regimen of anti-emetics and painkillers (oxycodone), to keep her tummy settled and the leg and body pain in check. She is taking about twice the pain meds now compared to her fifth chemo, and it barely keeps her above water. I am so glad that we are close to the end, and look forward to getting her off all this crap.
We have a date for Julie's mastectomy surgery: Wednesday the 13th of August. Back to this in a bit...
My gentle reader will again have to forgive the long delay between these missives. It's not that I'm lazy, it's just that I am doing other stuff. Since last I wrote, we once again left house and dogs in Juneau for Seattle. Chemo no. 6 (back on the 26th of June) was long and uneventful. The high point for me was being given the "special" tour of the little galley, and being trusted with the location of the secret stash of Lorna Doone cookies. I guess that I am now a regular at the clinic, with all the privilege that goes with the title. We continue to be treated with gracious hospitality by Jan and Mikey in Longview. Thank goodness for mothers!!
We enjoyed the Fourth of July in Vancouver at Carol's annual 4th party and BBQ. Too much food, but that's part of the deal. Carol and family have been best friends of Julie's since she moved to the 'Couv, and to miss the celebration there would be wrong. My favorite part, mostly because it demonstrated so clearly how well Julie fits in to Alaska living, was buying fresh whole salmon from the next-door neighbor (whose son is a "tribal" dip netter on the Columbia), and then Jules holding school in Carol's kitchen demonstrating the efficient fillet and processing of wild fish. Julie, the fish stud...
We spent most of that next week staying with daughter Jessica, in her small but comfy apartment, also in Vancouver. We saw some more Portland/Vancouver friends, had a very nice visit with Russ and Michelle out in their forest-garden, and I was glad to be able to continue working in Portland without the long drive from Longview. The timing for the whole week worked out great, as it coincided with Julie's "not-so-bad" part of the chemo cycle. She needed to get out and see people and get some air and light exercise. It worked.
Jan took Julie back to Seattle for this last chemo, whilst I stayed with Jessica. We celebrated my birthday on the 11th with the The Police concert... one of my favorite trio's. Sting shows no evidence of slowing down. What a great show. Oh, and I had a great meeting in Salem earlier that day with my Seattle CG counterpart Dan, my Portland successor Curt, and my dear friend Dr. Jennifer Lincoln of NIOSH, in which we made a very strong case for the State of Oregon to adopt stricter safety requirements for commercial Dungeness crab fishermen, as they have replaced the Bering Sea crabbers as the country's deadliest commercial fishing fleet. Sweet it was to me as this was an effort that I left incomplete when I left Portland and dragged BooBoo North with me.
Enough about me... back to Julie. The last chemo hit hard, and she is taking lots of pain drugs and is uncomfy and, I must report, a bit grouchy. But she continues to keep a positive attitude, and she is doing all the things she needs to do to maximize her fight. Her mom and I amaze over how tough an old bird Julie is. This is very good, and keeps me motivated. The doctor and the Wonder Nurse both say that she is doing amazingly well, and that if it weren't for her shiny bald head, you might not otherwise know that she had cancer.
Our schedule looks something like this: Last chemo on Thursday the 24th. Yeah!!
Last Nuelasta shot on the 25th, and an MRI so that the surgeon, can "see" what the status is.
Fly to Juneau on Saturday the 26th, see the doggies!!
Fly back to Seattle on Monday, August 11th... boo-hoo.
Meet with the surgeon on the 12th, sign the consent, and get the scoop on what he wants to do.
Surgery starts Wednesday the 13th at 0630 check-in, sentinel node test, then the surgery itself, probably about 6 hours. It takes this long because they run pathology samples as they go along, to make sure that there is no cancer at the margins. Julie has pretty much decided to get a double mastectomy, so that she won't be lopsided. The docs recommend this, and the other cancer survivors she has talked to all think this is a good idea. In addition, it will leave an identical "canvas" on both sides for reconstruction (see below).
Julie will be in the hospital for recovery until Friday or Saturday, then we move into the Hotel Nexus (up I-5 just north of UW) for a week or so, seeing the surgeon for a follow-up on the 20th. By this time, we should every indication that all the cancer is gone. Then we get to fly home, maybe on the 21st, and I get to do all the work while Julie recuperates for another 2 or 3 weeks.
We are going to meet the radiation oncologist here in Longview before the last chemo, and see whether or not this will work in lieu of the entire run of radiation at Swedish. Radiation will be 5 days a week for 6 weeks, and Julie would really like to do this in Longview. We'll see...
We will also get a chance to meet with the plastic surgeon at Swedish who will do the reconstruction (read as BOOB JOB) next summer, and try to get a better idea of the longer term picture. Speaking of which, Julie and I are actively looking at boobs, with the notion of trying to get some good ideas for what to ask for when it is time. We did see a few good pairs at the The Police concert, and I am really trying to do my homework. This research is important, and the involvement gives me a real sense of ownership.
OK, I am wiping the silly/stupid grin off my face. I fear I have dragged my gentle readers far enough in one sitting, so I am going to stop for now. We love y'all, and know that we are so grateful for the gifts that come our way.
God bless,
Julie and Ken
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