When cancer strikes, the patient is subject to chemotherapy. The chemicals cause hair to fall out. The lack of hair may cause the patient to buy wigs. That's where Sandy is now.
What you don't want to do when wearing a wig made of synthetic hair is get near a hot stove or oven. If you do, it might singe the wig. Sandy has gone through two or three wigs in just this way.
To help her remember to be more careful, Sandy did this:
We saw Sandy's doctor yesterday evening. She said that Sandy is officially in remission, but . . . her CAT scan showed some "borderline" areas to keep an eye on. For now, everything looks good. The doctor said that because of these borderline areas she is not a candidate for the year-long clinical trial. We will see the doctor once each quarter.
Meanwhile, the doctor ordered another test for CA-125 to ensure the number stays well below 35.
Sandy is happy. Her hair is beginning to grow back and she's in tears watching the premiere of Grey's Anatomy.
It's a good day.
Sandy's health is getting better. The neuropathy in her feet isn't nearly as bothersome to her as it was near the end of chemotherapy. Her life has returned to what it was before her diagnosis in January.
She has another appointment with her oncology doctor on the 23rd. It's then that we'll learn the results of the CAT scan Sandy underwent on August 27th. If she "passes," the doctor will declare her to be in full remission.
On Saturday I rented a core aerator and punched holes in our yard wherever we don't have new sod. After I got done, Sandy said, "Why don't we go to Yoder's Kitchen for lunch?"
Yoder's Kitchen is over an hour and a half away, in Arthur, IL. Nevertheless, we cleaned up and took off on I-57 south. When we got there at 2 o'clock we figured the place would be empty. Who eats lunch at 2 o'clock? We found out.
The region was having its annual Corn Broom Festival. Yoder's Kitchen was filled with people. We waited over half an hour just to get a table. When we finally did sit down, it was right behind the noisy ice cream machine. But the food was good and we were soon on our way.
On the 19th, Saturday, Sandy and I took our bikes up to Frankfort, IL. We rode 25 miles on the paved bike path called the Old Plank Road Trail. I was very impressed that Sandy just kept right on going, didn't take many breaks.
She was sore the next day.
Her eyebrows and the hairs on her head are beginning to grow back. This makes the prospect of entering a clinical trial unpleasant. She could be put on the one "arm" of the trial that would give her the kind of taxol that she received during her six cycles of chemotherapy. If so, there goes the hair again. If not, she'll have a full head of hair within a few months.
We'll see her doctor tomorrow, ask a few questions, then make a decision about that clinical trial.
Sandy and I went to UCMC Friday to see her oncology doctor, Dr. Yamada. We talked about the clinical trial that Sandy might be able to get into, but Dr. Yamada expressed concern that the neuropathy (burning and tingling) in her feet might bar her from getting into it. Sandy will have a CAT scan this coming Thursday to check for any anomalies. Then, on September 23rd we'll see the doctor again for a progress check.Meanwhile, the doctor told Sandy that she is officially in remission! Sandy was so happy about this that she insisted on another trip to Ghirardelli's Chocolate Shop in downtown Chicago to celebrate.
Ever since the day after Sandy's blood transfusion she has been going virtually nonstop. She goes to work, she cooks, she bakes, she sews, she rides her bike . . . she keeps busy. The burning sensation in her feet has diminished.
I think that, for her, feeling good is the absence of feeling bad. When you don't feel well, you wish you did. Now, when she feels well she appreciates it!
We'll see her doctor in Chicago on Friday. We have questions for her, and . . . based in part on her answers . . . Sandy will decide whether to go into their clinical study. To do so will mean monthly visits to UCMC for a year and it might mean enduring chemotherapy side effects for as long.
Meanwhile, daughter Julie is setting up a law practice in St. Paul while Scot and family are looking at a new home in their near future.
Big decisions for all.
Here's Sandy, in front of Lincoln's temporary tomb in Springfield, IL (He was here six months before being moved to his current site).
(Click to enlarge)
Nurse Connie of the University of Chicago Medical Center (UCMC) called Sandy last Thursday. She told Sandy that her numbers in her most recent hematology results were low. For this reason, Connie suggested that Sandy have a blood transfusion, as she did <once before>.
Connie said that it would be best to have the transfusion as soon as possible. Both Connie and Sandy got on the phone with various medical personnel to make the arrangements. On Friday, the very next day, Sandy and I checked into Riverside Medical Center's Infusion Room, in the C Wing, 4th floor. She received two units of blood over a four-hour time span.
Sandy considers a blood transfusion to be "creepy," but the fact is that she had been tired. After the previous blood transfusion it took roughly fifty hours before she began feeling like her old self again. Today is Sunday, as I write this, so we figure that she'll start feeling better sometime this evening if not before.
Her feet have been feeling as if she's standing on hot coals. Anything to cool them off is a godsend to her right now. Well, this past week we had about 220 rolls of sod put into our back yard and along the east side of the house. New sod requires watering to keep it moist. I had sprinklers on three hoses and a fourth hose with a nozzle. She opened up that nozzle enough to spray a mist and aimed it at her feet to cool them off.
The smile on her face said it all.
Thursday the 30th was Sandy's last day of chemo ... for now. After we finished, which was around 1 o'clock, we drove to one of Sandy's favorite places in all of Chicago, Ghirardelli's Chocolate Shop, where she got her favorite, a chocolate soda. Then we went to Sam's Club to stock up on basic supplies, then home.There was one final thing to do on Sandy's last chemo day:
This morning at 7:10, I found Sandy kneeling on the kitchen floor scrubbing grout. She had already washed two loads of laundry. Like every preceding day-after-chemo, her cheeks were flushed red: 
