tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80402721431220750812024-02-07T12:02:17.573-08:00Cancer ~ ShmancerSusanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-13286907970877413892014-07-18T11:30:00.001-07:002014-07-18T11:30:36.102-07:00Keen-O!The keenness of Life is renewed with every clean PET & MRI scan.<br />
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This past Tuesday I went to <a href="http://www.uphs.upenn.edu/radiology/">Penn Radiology</a> for a PET scan. I was about 45 minutes early, due to the gods smiling upon the Schuylkill Expressway. Michelle, one of the techs, slipped me in early. She remembered me which made me feel good. That's how they roll at Penn.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>I've taken a lighter approach to filling in medical forms</i>.</span></td></tr>
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When my tube time was over (about 30 minutes) & my nuclear pee peed, I had several hours before my appointment with Doc O'Malley. I wandered over to the <a href="http://www.penn.museum/">Penn Museum</a> to visit my favorite exhibit, the China Gallery. You should go. It's a mere $10 admission July & August. Be forewarned, only the Iraq section is air conditioned. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>I peered into the crystal ball and tried to see the results of my scan.</i></span></td></tr>
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<i>Tang </i><i>ceramics</i><i> tomb figures. Beautiful.</i></div>
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I started in the Iraq exhibits (getting my fill of AC) & spied a picture of a very familiar-looking object; a CT scanner of the likes of the one I was just in. The researchers used the scans to examine artifacts! Cancer is the <i>least</i> concern of those mummies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgcIEZnzI7T3oxWvrodCEnOMnS93naTMMJgyCdq1MLuztZf4OOizrQPwPJvGA_VflQ5SlUPYq5-CdeSaCRpMxzxYbxUbAluTA7SyDy0yDMdpDKU8s6Y4f8zzIo6qK8r33OK3G9Ra1FIs/s1600/IMG_6247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgcIEZnzI7T3oxWvrodCEnOMnS93naTMMJgyCdq1MLuztZf4OOizrQPwPJvGA_VflQ5SlUPYq5-CdeSaCRpMxzxYbxUbAluTA7SyDy0yDMdpDKU8s6Y4f8zzIo6qK8r33OK3G9Ra1FIs/s1600/IMG_6247.jpg" height="200" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Feeling a bit like an artifact myself.</i></span></td></tr>
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About a week ago, I noticed that the left side of my neck, where all the excitement had occurred, had a new slight protrusion. It was enough to make me clean out a few drawers, I am telling you. I kept it to myself, and tried to prep once again, for my demise. I had seen Phil graduate which was my <i><b>#1 Goal</b></i> and figured well, at least I'd be able to see him off to Northeastern University. ... I kill myself off on a regular basis.<br />
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In Doc O'Malley's exam room later that day, I pointed to my neck and joked that I was on Step Three of the Five Steps of Grief. Quicker than a hungry vampire, Doc's hands were on my neck. He looked, poked & prodded and said it wasn't a tumor. He explained that radiation effects pop up for years and years and that's what he thought was happening with my neck. Well for cryin' out loud, life is interesting, ain't it?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>2012 Donut Karma. Started it Day 1. </i></td></tr>
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Alas, although the actual scans popped up on Dr. O'Malley's computer screen, the techs had not yet completed their report. (Yes, <i><b>of course</b></i> I took this as an ominous sign. When will I learn?) As he scrolled through them, he said he thought they looked great but reminded me he wasn't able to read them like the techs would. I was to call his office Thursday for the results, giving me plenty of time to flick through various scenarios :)<br />
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Thursday dawned and the results of my scans were pronounced "awesome". It's Donut Karma. I bring a tray in for every appointment & almost got jumped for them in a crowded elevator up to my appointment.<br />
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That evening, Phil & I attended the memorial service for a woman tragically killed in a car accident. She left a husband and a son Phil's age. <i><b>Heartbreaking.</b></i><br />
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It was far too easy for me to imagine Craig & Phil in the place of the grieving husband and son. <br />
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After the build-up and release of the anxiety of scan time, I always vow to be a kinder person, more patient and less OCD. <b><i>So what</i></b> if the kitchen floor probably should have been cleaned yesterday? <b><i>Just let it go</i></b> that I picked the wrong grocery line to check out in. What does it matter if that idiot driving in front of me is a bonafide "<i><b>Left Lane Dick</b></i>". Ok, well, that last one still matters.<br />
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So, my wish for you? Make hay while the sun shines, look for beauty and try to live each day realizing it's a Gift. Don't forget to thank The Lord :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJC2MI6QmcM6isv0Apr284bNOGP6zu4SurYdXnSdb8DGJjS_9aHePXBMq_HY2YGaGgOBmoMhUt4dpee_acDYoom3SVepxjEw8O3XY7-wM6ZPOp5ITCoK7UCTigzp9JEQmfzTmcbHIOCTk/s1600/IMG_6262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJC2MI6QmcM6isv0Apr284bNOGP6zu4SurYdXnSdb8DGJjS_9aHePXBMq_HY2YGaGgOBmoMhUt4dpee_acDYoom3SVepxjEw8O3XY7-wM6ZPOp5ITCoK7UCTigzp9JEQmfzTmcbHIOCTk/s1600/IMG_6262.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>As I write this post, a farmer is actually making hay while the sun shines in our field.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Beauty right outside the doorstep.</i></td></tr>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-72369910854316511912013-08-16T06:52:00.000-07:002013-08-16T06:52:50.313-07:00One Year AnniversaryOne year ago today I woke up from a tonsillectomy to hear my ENT doc say, "I am sorry to tell you this but you have cancer."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking outside Penn Medicine window September '12</i></td></tr>
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Those of you who have received a cancer diagnose may have experienced the unreality of those first few days with the thought galloping around in your head <i><b>"I HAVE CANCER"</b></i> accompanied by your stomach doing a flip-flop every time you try to re-digest the thought.<br />
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It's amazing what you can get used to with the passing of time. I still get flip-flops in my stomach on occasion but I'm getting used to the idea that yes, my days are numbered ~ like every one of us. It's just that I've had a longer look behind the curtain than you. It certainly gives flavor and relish to mundane tasks. Mowing the lawn (about a 3-4 hour job) used to peeve me and make me sigh with resignation. I can't say I leap upon the mower seat with zest now, but I appreciate the beauty around me more & enjoy looking at my finished work. This summer, with all the rain, I've certainly had a lot of enjoyment :)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking outside the same window August '13</i></td></tr>
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In the past two months I've had another MRI, blood tests and a few doctor appointments. All is well. I will continue this gig for years as this cancer has an 85% chance of coming back in five years if it is going to reappear. (Flip-flop!)<br />
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A friend surprised a laugh out of me when he wrote <i>"... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">At least 50% of (doctors) graduated in the bottom half of their class, and, when you get down to it, academic stardom does not translate into professional competence, so that makes all of them suspect. ..."</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I must say, my doctors at Penn inspire my confidence & hope. What ever comes down my path, I will never worry that I made a wrong decision choosing them.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I think I am more easy-going now and ~ this may seem odd ~ in a way, happier. I don't sweat the small stuff so much. I'll catch myself worrying about something and then ask myself, "So <i>what</i>? What's the worst that can happen?" </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">Cancer puts things in perspective.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC06Ps9mM8IRHaVKdV95PuPPDt_ncThrz2dadlpsOCDXkuJLkQUbQfnDQ7CLbv8K0CYdcwfWgNfG5ENtpTPFioJ1RlDBp8aB8ygad6zs4RO-aVccaD2UQByXZyxX6cyCFkvR8AWHOU2-o/s1600/IMG_3784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC06Ps9mM8IRHaVKdV95PuPPDt_ncThrz2dadlpsOCDXkuJLkQUbQfnDQ7CLbv8K0CYdcwfWgNfG5ENtpTPFioJ1RlDBp8aB8ygad6zs4RO-aVccaD2UQByXZyxX6cyCFkvR8AWHOU2-o/s1600/IMG_3784.JPG" height="193" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I always opt for dessert these days. I buy a book if I want it. And, losing 40 pounds has made it more fun to shop for clothes :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I'm baking again and have been put on a strict "One Pie Per Week" limit by my son who has discovered he likes my pies very much. I've made a few batches of jam, planted lots of flowers and am redoing a bathroom. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our beloved Fluffy >"<</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">On a sad note, I had to put our amazing & wonderful Fluffy to sleep. This kitty was my Constant Companion as I went through operations, radiation & healing. She was always at my side. She was 15 years old and I hope I see her again. She was one of a handful of animals I have known in my life who were truly Special Souls.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Phil & me @ Rolling Stones concert</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Health Stuff for others who may be going through this:</span></i></b> No sleeping through the night due to a combo of waking up with dry mouth, quaffing water, then waking up to pee s</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">everal times a night.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I've been using a number of mouth-moistening gels & lozenges to find the right combination to allow me to sleep. ENJOY your restful, unbroken sleeps, people! Thank goodness for interesting podcasts, Solitaire & Facebook. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">• My scar bothers me just a little. It feels stiff & stretched & sometimes itchy. Been putting Vitamin E oil on it. I give myself lymph massages because I can feel lymph fluids collecting in the area above the scar as it tries to find a new route. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">• I've been off Gabapentin (Neurontin) for a few months now and, glory be! My memory is slowly improving, if I remember correctly. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">:)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">• I have normal energy levels and there's no limit on what I can do. This was tested on recent college tours where we walked miles of sidewalks looking at schools. Just give me a water bottle & a place to pee and I'm good to go!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">• My left ear is back to full-strength hearing levels. Shadow (our dog) gives it regular workouts.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVuWpfq385OTZHj-fQdOcJ2VxoQR9iIwSH-4Tb_GaGLDjtdHKX_98dmrerPXY-riwfYBUFoZ4nMEPmUZB105weFO8Yrpg0xsr-7Q9-ArDY-QOzRH8_An4nwSgftH0E34-bARoFnJ2ljo/s1600/IMG_4007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVuWpfq385OTZHj-fQdOcJ2VxoQR9iIwSH-4Tb_GaGLDjtdHKX_98dmrerPXY-riwfYBUFoZ4nMEPmUZB105weFO8Yrpg0xsr-7Q9-ArDY-QOzRH8_An4nwSgftH0E34-bARoFnJ2ljo/s1600/IMG_4007.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Look Ma! No cavities!</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">• Teeth are holding up well ~ radiation is tough on teeth because saliva glands are destroyed. I'm in good hands with the Phoenixville Family Dentistry team of Anns & a Linda.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">Since being diagnosed with Tonsil Cancer (<i>Tonsil Cancer</i> still sounds like a fake cancer to me), I have heard of or met three other people who have it. One has had a neck dissection & TORS at Penn as I did, then went to Mexico for a different form of chemo treatment. He did well and I have not heard any updates so I'm taking that as good news. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi148337EFarKnj7gsrx6j1mbv6AJlRAnV7EXrBQxLS0mj35FclR8toU2MnGyPPC4xRlgzCcP9244VCV2W-oZHjzNwaAhj3Fd6eNplz2mxnetEfLejqWBs3osJRoiR3j66vZ8b_3nu1S68/s1600/IMG_4031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi148337EFarKnj7gsrx6j1mbv6AJlRAnV7EXrBQxLS0mj35FclR8toU2MnGyPPC4xRlgzCcP9244VCV2W-oZHjzNwaAhj3Fd6eNplz2mxnetEfLejqWBs3osJRoiR3j66vZ8b_3nu1S68/s1600/IMG_4031.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">My son Phil has his first </span><a href="http://www.gardasil.com/about-gardasil/about-gardasil/?WT.mc_id=GL0ES&MTD=2&ENG=1&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=gardasil&utm_campaign=SL+1+Request+01%2F11&utm_content=sOhqBkksn%7Cdc_pcrid_20369827123">Gardasil</a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">shot, which prevents certain HPV viruses, found to be the new </span><a href="http://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/kimmel_cancer_center/centers/head_neck/HPV_and_head_and_neck_cancer/hpv.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">leading cause</span></a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">of throat cancer.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">I'll leave you with a beautiful pie shot. Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. <i><b>Ya all Rock.</b></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm13hwFY35CYWWqHON5d9V9TbSNIHKERnOHGNka_L5qwoEE3Jmkg4EaPCb9rONeTr45uk8D_tjlQ_3aCsENMk8MPRNGXUAslDHmdjM5SA5tPR3q-ODREh_255wNltICOfsk1x9qyyoWbQ/s1600/IMG_3700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm13hwFY35CYWWqHON5d9V9TbSNIHKERnOHGNka_L5qwoEE3Jmkg4EaPCb9rONeTr45uk8D_tjlQ_3aCsENMk8MPRNGXUAslDHmdjM5SA5tPR3q-ODREh_255wNltICOfsk1x9qyyoWbQ/s1600/IMG_3700.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Craig's favorite pie. I love you, Craig!</i></td></tr>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-84373287111363632922013-05-10T09:09:00.000-07:002013-05-10T09:09:03.147-07:00cutting lawns & coupons<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCHkIsT5f6ghCjXEQblql0oXlf5CdgbPFPoxWowBbDlAfg4u2DvohVpwwvZmaUsSWJLk-AlCf-EJR1KjefL7gytZ-tWvR5CfwPZz_1FBowfyO5R7op-LKnG-vKo7uiTKlYGVstw07WFo/s1600/IMG_3424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCHkIsT5f6ghCjXEQblql0oXlf5CdgbPFPoxWowBbDlAfg4u2DvohVpwwvZmaUsSWJLk-AlCf-EJR1KjefL7gytZ-tWvR5CfwPZz_1FBowfyO5R7op-LKnG-vKo7uiTKlYGVstw07WFo/s400/IMG_3424.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Found in an antique store...</i></td></tr>
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Just wanted to chime in with a lovely boring update. The best kind :)<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">On the Dental Front ~</span></i></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdzqqADcZrCbfGNSsl29R1xX_ZWCmLA6uW9EmpBJNekyGUrNVJ1O7sKojXLfVE07ggJ50ZjIPDfJmPNMqdsmCgMV2DxmhNcp4RBvCK3iGJvHKDTVBfitEaEmY_Ti5Gi7kqUMztUvF7Hw/s1600/phil+fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdzqqADcZrCbfGNSsl29R1xX_ZWCmLA6uW9EmpBJNekyGUrNVJ1O7sKojXLfVE07ggJ50ZjIPDfJmPNMqdsmCgMV2DxmhNcp4RBvCK3iGJvHKDTVBfitEaEmY_Ti5Gi7kqUMztUvF7Hw/s640/phil+fam.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Silly Sappy Smiles Family</i></td></tr>
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At my first cleaning after all the hubbub in my mouth, Linda, my Hygienist, and I were both ready to jump as she carefully poked around in there. I did jump at one point which made her jump. After we got that out of the way, we both settled down and got 'er done. Everything looks pretty good & my treatment has changed from "Upgrading" to "Maintaining".<br />
I've started using "Biotene Gel" at night ~ a dab on the tongue seems to help with the dry mouth, so I don't wake up as much for a drink. Since I drink so much water during the day though, I wake up to pee three to five aggravating times a night. I always look out the window on my pee trips, hoping to see a shooting star, a fox or deer wandering through the yard, a skunk even ~ nothing yet! The odds are in my favor though :~)<br />
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<h4>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Cutting Lawns & Coupons ~</span> </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">At first I was secretly worried that riding on the lawn mower would "jounce my cancer back". I know this makes no sense, nor is it a medical term or concern, but it was still in the back of my head. What cured me was seeing how "other people" mowed our lawn. Terrible swaths of cut brown grass clippings, jagged lines and swoopy-looking margins. (Was it cut this way on purpose? hummm.) I'm too Type-A to put up with that. Cancer jouncing was a risk I was willing to take. Oh the satisfaction of a well-executed cut!</span></h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Also, I find myself cutting coupons again. This means I am more concerned with saving .50 on a box of Baggies<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">®</span> than I am about being around to use 'em all.</span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Phil's Prom ~</span> </i></h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Yup, there we are with smiles plastered on our faces. <i>(On our perfectly mowed lawn I might add.)</i> Phil sure rocked his tux and his date was a lovely young lady indeed. He goes to another prom in mid-May, so his bum knee is not holding him back on the prom front. Phil has one more year of high school to go. He works hard at his studies and is such a funny & nice person. We couldn't be more proud.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic;">Latest Scan Results ~</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> </i></span></h4>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdr9PajA9g3OnHQ2ayQl5bzDs774V9Wwu6tDtTgfun6__L0pGiJkxOeYcMRAZ3dTgUZCqPXDaxcHa1I_QUld3QtTO_WzfNfmawCIXet7bizjnXHAgTNgZq6LNUyJYE__BrXtIWxceE_L4/s1600/IMG_3495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdr9PajA9g3OnHQ2ayQl5bzDs774V9Wwu6tDtTgfun6__L0pGiJkxOeYcMRAZ3dTgUZCqPXDaxcHa1I_QUld3QtTO_WzfNfmawCIXet7bizjnXHAgTNgZq6LNUyJYE__BrXtIWxceE_L4/s400/IMG_3495.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Thank you for all your thoughts & prayers, peeps!</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">So far, so good! I go to see a cardiologist in a few weeks. I had a blood test to check for thyroid functions & other stuff & will probably get those results in a few days. I go to see Drs. O'Malley & Ahn in July. As for how I feel, my tongue is still wonky. Pins & needles and reduced taste bud function. I am petering out my Gabapentin dosage and will try to stop entirely in the next few days. Hopefully, my brain cells will regroup and I'll be able to remember stuff better. "Scatterbrain" definitely applies to me now! Energy levels are getting close to my normal laziness. Sometimes I wake up grumpy & sometimes I let him sleep.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span>
<h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><i>Thankfulness Levels ~</i></span></h4>
Still high! Surely I would have liked to skip along, blissfully unaware of my mortality for at least another decade or so, but being forced to think about the possibilities has also been a blessing. I realize that my family is amazing and able to do all kinds of things without me offering opinions & advice. I have been forced to think about the what-if's and different choices I have. I have even been forced to clean out a few drawers! It's all good.</div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-44858094574126312102013-04-08T13:17:00.001-07:002013-04-08T13:17:20.552-07:00As The Dust Settles...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv53fZCMX5SIww7f2iG3dGu1pfZFlyoct2kufZAeOl_1syyzW4Muzl3C_nvqlOBzLMJILuXvzmQtaHE3ul7hHwLdjCBi-a_NBBOjyrirjT9eFdNxQ5lVuLFkqFhM4bJMFxAFjRzztXBk/s1600/IMG_3356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv53fZCMX5SIww7f2iG3dGu1pfZFlyoct2kufZAeOl_1syyzW4Muzl3C_nvqlOBzLMJILuXvzmQtaHE3ul7hHwLdjCBi-a_NBBOjyrirjT9eFdNxQ5lVuLFkqFhM4bJMFxAFjRzztXBk/s400/IMG_3356.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="335" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Shadow, Friend of Bluebirds.</i></td></tr>
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I just made three doctor appointments ~ ones that everyone makes: a dental cleaning, a ordinary old physical & a cardiologist appointment. Okay, maybe not every one makes a cardiologist appointment. I was advised to make one so my carotid artery (the one that nine out of ten vampires prefer) can be monitored for possible blood clots since it was radiated along with the rest of my throat. The tumor was very close to that artery.<br />
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Spent a satisfying weekend cleaning out some of the gardens and have the beginnings of the seasons "garden patina" on my fingers & nails to prove it. I put up a bluebird box yesterday and have two pair of bluebirds feuding over who gets it. Todays mission; buy more BB houses.<br />
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Here's the link that will take you to the interview I had with Erica Voll, who writes for the University of Penn website: <a href="http://penn-medicine-focus-on-cancer.blogspot.com/2013/04/thank-you-for-saving-my-life-from.html">Penn Medicine Focus on Cancer</a>. I sure hope that it, along with this blog, can offer additional information from the patient's viewpoint for anyone who may be undergoing these procedures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG_wZmNYZ_Xj32YiNrcyzCCqSbG3ILgvKDUoo33dePRmwe4Q-jhzKUXsAmQ1MpAbQzZH4-zs8EOHwrfAeiUN9qUCDs_Il7PozKDvY6xyERak44knK-Hlmg7v1WU3kqcg3xN1Q5Xo-1lQ/s1600/IMG_3351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG_wZmNYZ_Xj32YiNrcyzCCqSbG3ILgvKDUoo33dePRmwe4Q-jhzKUXsAmQ1MpAbQzZH4-zs8EOHwrfAeiUN9qUCDs_Il7PozKDvY6xyERak44knK-Hlmg7v1WU3kqcg3xN1Q5Xo-1lQ/s400/IMG_3351.jpg" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I had a Band-O-Bald running around the bottom of my scalp.</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Info for others who may be going through this...</span></i></span></div>
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My new hair is coming in nicely ~ no grey! This picture is 14 weeks out from last radiation.</div>
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My tongue still has the "pins & needles" sensation, but it is slooooowly diminishing. I haven't spurted spontaneous tears in a while, except for a totally unrelated event; when the writers of <i><b>Downton Abbey</b></i> killed off Matthew. </div>
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I massage my lymphatic fluid vessels every day and try to wear the compression bandage as long as I can bear it. I can see (what I think) is a little bit of lymphedema now and then and it keeps me on the stick. Because I google stuff. And the images for "Lymphedema of the Neck" are NOT attractive.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFOrRd7W1veuAfLenc3JywYltnpzM9p_4ZHUS_JYZSkdKqo9Fq3sVJEIeX4KS7D0HhNzo1nEHAaUP6sr4zuPih-gL_y7HkFvlL12JHVkk_ouy-KDT7BSnxJ8GzC14xKJvV2VhmFrJpYLg/s1600/IMG_3353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFOrRd7W1veuAfLenc3JywYltnpzM9p_4ZHUS_JYZSkdKqo9Fq3sVJEIeX4KS7D0HhNzo1nEHAaUP6sr4zuPih-gL_y7HkFvlL12JHVkk_ouy-KDT7BSnxJ8GzC14xKJvV2VhmFrJpYLg/s320/IMG_3353.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Here is how my neck is looking these days.</i></td></tr>
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<div>
Mouth opening abilities will be tested with the dental cleaning I have scheduled next week. I can open it about two fingers wide. This requires the squishing down of anything bigger than, say, a sandwich. That's okay though. When I was first set free after radiation, I was told to practice opening my mouth until it was at the point of pain, and to exercise my neck by doing a series of exercises. At my last appointment, I was told NOT to do this anymore and not to push my mouth opening any further either, as they are changing the thinking on that. It makes me wonder if we will ever stop learning about our bodies and the ailments they get. </div>
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I recently saw an article published by Reuters about a company called <b>Navidea Biopharmaceuticals Inc</b>. They've come up with a cancer diagnostic agent that <i>"... was effective in identifying the first lymph node reached by the disease in patients with head and neck cancer. The diagnostic agent, <b>Lymphoseek</b>, correctly identified cancer in 38 of the 39 patients determined to have cancer in their lymph nodes, the company said. ... The company said detection of cancer-affected nodes by "Lymphoseek" led the the removal of only about four lymph nodes per patient on an average, while surgery ~ considered the gold standard to detect the spread of cancer ~ led to the removal of about 38 lymph nodes per patient. ..." </i>I think that's pretty exciting! I sure hope it doesn't cause Hot Dog Fingers though.</div>
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<div>
My constant companion is a water bottle. </div>
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My scar doesn't bother me one bit, aesthetically. Actually, I think it's dashing and romantic. I even have a vampire bite mark ~ two whitish scars ~ where my two drains were. Several times a day I will put moisturizer on the scar area. I'm partial to good old Cetaphil. The scar still "pulls" a little and pains me just a tad when the lymph fluids make it puffy above the cut. In the photo of my hair coming in, you can see where the neck around my scar is a tad puffy today. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpldX4Ets10Iih_4z7mCDM0oDF6QYZlBZZWMlusnvgGSufalUpchElxGwgHDbk4XkKTMPssSvH68M-PD91poFJmbjTKKSRYMANwwv6rq2ehVp_VlKxCT8UxjcJ858usGmOFUKbERDuluk/s1600/IMG_3354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpldX4Ets10Iih_4z7mCDM0oDF6QYZlBZZWMlusnvgGSufalUpchElxGwgHDbk4XkKTMPssSvH68M-PD91poFJmbjTKKSRYMANwwv6rq2ehVp_VlKxCT8UxjcJ858usGmOFUKbERDuluk/s320/IMG_3354.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Couldn't resist buying these lovelies...</i></td></tr>
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I bought a big, floppy straw hat to wear outside, since I'm to have no sun on my neck for this first year. Plus, I couldn't resist buying some pretty flowers when I went to get the bird boxes. <br />
<br />
Speaking of flowers, I'm thinking of myself as more of a "Perennial" than an "Annual" these days :)</div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-38433462627330294232013-03-30T14:39:00.001-07:002013-03-30T14:39:53.156-07:00A day of reflecting.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlof6qixq5_-OBqPf8p2hLr4ba2k3gNVZSCBRYR4iYBx6aa-lrbZn0RSDEyd8Ncr1CKOaZylGYLqGMIldev9AdzB-lMOZsxFTeTplcH8LPnL9xC3wBP18VJfflb0J0vQwLAdGe85P3MtE/s1600/IMG_3307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlof6qixq5_-OBqPf8p2hLr4ba2k3gNVZSCBRYR4iYBx6aa-lrbZn0RSDEyd8Ncr1CKOaZylGYLqGMIldev9AdzB-lMOZsxFTeTplcH8LPnL9xC3wBP18VJfflb0J0vQwLAdGe85P3MtE/s400/IMG_3307.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Vilma Griffiths, BSN, RN, OCN</i></td></tr>
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On my visit Thursday, I tried to get on the scale fully loaded: water bottle & heavy purse. The friendly but gimlet-eyed nurse spied what I was up to ~ foiled! ~ and asked me to put them aside before getting on the scale. Earlier in the week, I contemplated wearing my cowboy boots and filling up the extra room around my legs with spare change & claiming any jingling sound was from my spurs. I still managed to keep my jacket on and I thought heavy thoughts as I was weighed. Two pounds up from last weigh-in & for the first time in months there was no concern voiced over my weight.<br />
<br />
Vilma, the nurse who has been with me for my decent & travels through Radiation Valley and the climb back out, chatted with me for a bit about function levels of taste, swallowing, pain, etc... She is always ready with a warm hug and a genuine interest in my well-being. God bless her!<br />
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<h4>
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Reflecting </span></i></b></h4>
I waited in Examining Room 8, anticipating a fuller report of good news on my cancer, after getting the brief email that the PET scan looked good. I thought about all the other people sitting in the other rooms up and down the hallway, waiting to hear... what? What kind of days do my medical people have, breaking bad news in one room and good news in the next? How do they insulate their psyches?<br />
<br />
Right Now, In The Moment, I feel optimistic and will try to live currently rather than Future-ly. I am doing all I have been instructed to do to keep good health. Am I living now as if this could be my last month/year/decade? No. I feel like I'm still waiting for other events to play out. I'm waiting for my husband to not have to work seven days a week. I'm waiting for my son to be settled and happy in his college/job/marriage. There's stuff I would like to do; go out West & dig for fossils and pan for gold; walk on a warm beach & look for shells. The reality is: Our son Phil will be just fine. He is a good, smart, mature young man. Craig will probably be working seven days a week for quite a while yet, as Phil has a bit of schooling to go and Craig is a Good Provider. I need to find a satisfying pursuit so I can continue to live in the Present and stop doing the what-ifs about the Future, whether they be happy or sad. I'm on the brink of something.<br />
<br />
I think Craig & I were in this same room when we met Dr. Ahn for the first time after my operations and before the radiation. Dr. Ahn told us of all the side effects of radiation, and they were legion. This radiation treatment, provided by the nation's top Head & Neck specialists, would hopefully eradicate any cancer cells that eluded TORS. When I thought of the Now and the Future (survival!), the future side effects of radiation seemed distant and oh so minor after a cancer diagnose. "After Treatment" seemed so very far off as we all sat in Examination Room 8 on November 12, 2012. I remember Dr. Ahn having a moment's trouble figuring out the number of days for something and I piped up, "Wait ~ an <b><i>Asian</i></b> who can't do <b><i>math</i></b>?" For an uneasy second, my heart stopped, as he was silent. "Crap!", I thought in a panic, "I've offended my doctor on our first meeting!" "Hey, that's prejudiced!", says Dr. Ahn in an upbeat tone, and everything was okay.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBg_HgqUb4yfcc2EF5dzP7l9Gc3VwqNXRUzZHuC0-4R9JL2Dqtk7nI2d-yQ2L5o8CR-05QIIu4wxYEmNToFi5H-sZUdQGp1TuzpzcDYgCHj0jV7tKSao3_jTIRWcOrQHb2zZFw6HNDSo/s1600/IMG_3304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBg_HgqUb4yfcc2EF5dzP7l9Gc3VwqNXRUzZHuC0-4R9JL2Dqtk7nI2d-yQ2L5o8CR-05QIIu4wxYEmNToFi5H-sZUdQGp1TuzpzcDYgCHj0jV7tKSao3_jTIRWcOrQHb2zZFw6HNDSo/s320/IMG_3304.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Over four months later, I sit in the very same big beige chair as Dr. Ahn numbed my nose for a look down the pipes. He and I both watched the video screen which showed the progress of the teeny video camera up my nose & down my throat to the area where the tumor had been. There was a smooth, flat, yellowish scar area there. Dr. Ahn says they see this type of presentation sometimes & will keep an eye on it. He told me of some things to possibly expect in the future:<br />
<i>• 40% patients develop a thyroid issue, because the thyroid is radiated during treatment. My blood will be tested for thyroid function twice a year. </i><br />
<i>• There is a possibility of a blood clot forming from my carotid artery also getting radiated. This clot could break off and possibly cause a stroke. I will see a Cardiologist who will monitor me.</i><br />
Both of these possibilities are easily treated with... a pill. It looks like a freakin' pill case may be in my future after all. It's gonna be the prettiest damn pill case I can find!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rCWAgvKLxOazler16YRmvexWrX7VsbpozWZtgh8esHJ8N1dKAVDQE7E5qj6C_f_ww4ezsgCJ176vFFS5cCyHGgjBqAda-SOg81DwtzzfFint5Gi-u9W6owOwp5gzG4aS_hutTIzbP8c/s1600/IMG_3318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rCWAgvKLxOazler16YRmvexWrX7VsbpozWZtgh8esHJ8N1dKAVDQE7E5qj6C_f_ww4ezsgCJ176vFFS5cCyHGgjBqAda-SOg81DwtzzfFint5Gi-u9W6owOwp5gzG4aS_hutTIzbP8c/s400/IMG_3318.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
<h4>
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Reflecting</span></i></b></h4>
<h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">After my appointment, I felt peace. I decided to finally check out the Penn Museum. I felt insignificant as I viewed various scraps and shards which were all that were left of entire civilizations which rose into being & fell into obscurity. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">What does my one little puff of life matter? Millions have risen & fallen before me and perhaps millions more after me. I wandered past statues of great kings, whose very names were lost in the obscurity of time. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I thought of the Bible verse: </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">"For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass wither, and the flower thereof falls away: but the word of the Lord endures forever."</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I wandered into the China Gallery, which is housed in the tall round tower that I used to look down at from various hospital windows and wonder about. This Gallery was my favorite room. It housed sophisticated sculptures and delightful novelties.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_QjrP49IYRVBxaYsP1py2xey5OUVI6f4AN-S49f4AuFCEBvYFUDR5vaDNiCYnfSYjDyCN5oo-feiycbd9c-L1rtFtTK50O5GTicLQGxfoqyTXc8bknmsiKs_ESJXqTE86t5DmiOWVwA/s1600/IMG_3313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_QjrP49IYRVBxaYsP1py2xey5OUVI6f4AN-S49f4AuFCEBvYFUDR5vaDNiCYnfSYjDyCN5oo-feiycbd9c-L1rtFtTK50O5GTicLQGxfoqyTXc8bknmsiKs_ESJXqTE86t5DmiOWVwA/s400/IMG_3313.jpg" width="392" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJKgQ9YaZMBb7ETMa0Nx39ZA2lWFaHU5PCyvO2HFsqL0a16b5ynak885pcMULkd11Uh0jonKpavLBXXB3vqs13ep392nNWKSWhvXr73ttgvRTPTkAQIGbaHqzpXFf4bLqKQZdEBe73e0/s1600/IMG_3314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJKgQ9YaZMBb7ETMa0Nx39ZA2lWFaHU5PCyvO2HFsqL0a16b5ynak885pcMULkd11Uh0jonKpavLBXXB3vqs13ep392nNWKSWhvXr73ttgvRTPTkAQIGbaHqzpXFf4bLqKQZdEBe73e0/s320/IMG_3314.jpg" width="209" /></a>When I left & walked up the sidewalk between the hospital and the museum, I felt that a chapter in my journey was at a close. I had vowed that I would get to this museum as I would look down on the tall round brick tower from my different hospital rooms and wondered what was inside.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj509UVriKnMNKMU9SkiZj1MLBcWQQLEzL3WiQ4FOIpQ91ncI_R3UdxhefalBcBbiq3-f3LdtfADx2_BVaQmU7YPd-1Q514Vw9nIOdiS_cgAvgb8aUAbgAd8m0knd0BOF0u83G9Vxxkcgc/s1600/IMG_3315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj509UVriKnMNKMU9SkiZj1MLBcWQQLEzL3WiQ4FOIpQ91ncI_R3UdxhefalBcBbiq3-f3LdtfADx2_BVaQmU7YPd-1Q514Vw9nIOdiS_cgAvgb8aUAbgAd8m0knd0BOF0u83G9Vxxkcgc/s400/IMG_3315.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Main hospital at HUP where I would look out windows <br />& speculate on the contents of the "Round" tower.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7ZvRhRsbCAf9QHyJ4TcJpARhpDrqrYIjYPASXYZWE-gJ9SagsQ1VGkSlWKzdBTXT_w2dWxcvD1qIfAeWfHtKNSx8gzs57VxFRBeu1lC9VG8VTYAkFYDUl_woxBB08bsFKCR4XzJE9KQ/s1600/IMG_3316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7ZvRhRsbCAf9QHyJ4TcJpARhpDrqrYIjYPASXYZWE-gJ9SagsQ1VGkSlWKzdBTXT_w2dWxcvD1qIfAeWfHtKNSx8gzs57VxFRBeu1lC9VG8VTYAkFYDUl_woxBB08bsFKCR4XzJE9KQ/s320/IMG_3316.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>That curious round tower!</i></td></tr>
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<h4>
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<h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><i><br /></i></span></h4>
<h4 style="font-weight: normal;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Something kind of bazaar...</span></i></b></h4>
<h4 style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Some minutes after getting the news that my PET Scan was clear, I happened to look down at my left palm and saw a little cut that I didn't remember getting. It started at the bottom of what I think is my palm's Life Line and extended for 3/4's of an inch further. I'm taking it to mean that my life had just been extended :)</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3IgyurRH9SddyZPzWmILw7nnkMG8dcHDLNLykjElvoPlCewEJE1efoKTxImhBG4i5s-hn2ZmCl5Xec24eWj2SeaTX3ppFgx1M4JoyqQqmEQHlhtVwbjzfpgAUF2N8_1ofNozJHsJVt0/s1600/IMG_3302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3IgyurRH9SddyZPzWmILw7nnkMG8dcHDLNLykjElvoPlCewEJE1efoKTxImhBG4i5s-hn2ZmCl5Xec24eWj2SeaTX3ppFgx1M4JoyqQqmEQHlhtVwbjzfpgAUF2N8_1ofNozJHsJVt0/s400/IMG_3302.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-23903301152736752752013-03-26T11:00:00.002-07:002013-03-26T11:00:24.125-07:00Giant Sighhhh :)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaQ_1WovSOwoZ9u2wORdMz1nElMT5Xrphbz280wuJvEIcvQhlxXogIMCInMyWIPYvpeealxtYv92B-4P5vFtJMenBQS0PSVXtYTkx3G5ITT6BmwY_gDC_TwKGLwfygTd3Gp7YZJnwBVs/s1600/IMG_2617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaQ_1WovSOwoZ9u2wORdMz1nElMT5Xrphbz280wuJvEIcvQhlxXogIMCInMyWIPYvpeealxtYv92B-4P5vFtJMenBQS0PSVXtYTkx3G5ITT6BmwY_gDC_TwKGLwfygTd3Gp7YZJnwBVs/s320/IMG_2617.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dr. Ahn<br />Don't you call him Dr. Off (his joke, not mine)</i></td></tr>
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Dr. Ahn.... Ever a man of few words & even shorter emails:<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote type="cite">
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Ms. Bolinger,<br /> PET scan looks fine. I will see you shortly.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
Whew!<br />
<br />
Thanks all for your prayers, peeps.<br />
<br />
I go to see him this Thursday for a follow-up.<br />
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-38434590665604642402013-03-25T08:49:00.002-07:002013-03-25T08:49:24.193-07:00Nuclear Farts<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yyo2r99VQs84YZSGAUJw6wPMXJokjGaUaDj4UnZ2Dw3DnrilqleZvh9aTFhGVNka5B_ygoeg70gNJzaCPjvSjlEXgdlESnporA5GzfTYICdf7A5mW7yddX7NaKGpoIITtFsBXiV0r2E/s1600/Nuclear-with-Marvin.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yyo2r99VQs84YZSGAUJw6wPMXJokjGaUaDj4UnZ2Dw3DnrilqleZvh9aTFhGVNka5B_ygoeg70gNJzaCPjvSjlEXgdlESnporA5GzfTYICdf7A5mW7yddX7NaKGpoIITtFsBXiV0r2E/s400/Nuclear-with-Marvin.gif" width="383" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I had to add Marvin the Martian to this sign...</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUUa3_mNmaYhTJ8JWhAgstRlhh3sYmcXCrklf8ohq355bBn5Ry8DvP6OYPOHzy8cgyCiZt6d2AAJYh9xRtln1dcFhMv9o9MHs1rSVK7WhFBjz8lWVgwn_XZ-9puNVGk5YvaR6-hHTdgKI/s1600/IMG_3252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUUa3_mNmaYhTJ8JWhAgstRlhh3sYmcXCrklf8ohq355bBn5Ry8DvP6OYPOHzy8cgyCiZt6d2AAJYh9xRtln1dcFhMv9o9MHs1rSVK7WhFBjz8lWVgwn_XZ-9puNVGk5YvaR6-hHTdgKI/s400/IMG_3252.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Insert Body Here</i></td></tr>
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On Friday I went in for my PET Scan. I had one back in August when I was first diagnosed with cancer so I knew the drill. Things were done a little differently at Penn than they were at our local hospital, who used a small lead-encased vial containing the radioactive material which was carefully extracted and fed into my IV. At Penn, a dishwasher-sized machine held the material & delivered my dose without the nurses having to fiddle with scary containers. I reclined in my honkin' big recliner in a curtained off area with dimmed lights and "relaxed" for about an hour while the marker fluid flowed into all my nooks & crannies. Before the scan, I was asked to use the potty, and once again wondered where all the radioactive pee went. And what about farts? If I farted, would it be a Nuclear Fart, destroying all humanity within scent radius? Fortunately, <i>being the Lady that I am</i>, humanity has been saved.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Mav4T0VVbZEPetCTM2XxLAJuBPjKfHpT_80Ww8aHX4a37ABXc0OK1q0zp-wbuyvrrqwEIlYF2YFfCE2xQnMAx4vDmaDH3HieyQGyMCUP4M2Yn-sAPX4H7TJ6A5q7STClnOSAuRTfZlQ/s1600/IMG_3253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Mav4T0VVbZEPetCTM2XxLAJuBPjKfHpT_80Ww8aHX4a37ABXc0OK1q0zp-wbuyvrrqwEIlYF2YFfCE2xQnMAx4vDmaDH3HieyQGyMCUP4M2Yn-sAPX4H7TJ6A5q7STClnOSAuRTfZlQ/s400/IMG_3253.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Michelle, who worked the PET Scan.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4UlLK9uJp38K4uiAkZV8scO2-M388yMpE1nZYachFbfCYbphlBFNcLv3Ty7cV4x_3345TnYnUfYFyp45KAUPoppx3nvaLTE-thgQ_PFqQhkBxGgyFkwdZj-nXA-Iqh49RBbecT9m9ww/s1600/IMG_3251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4UlLK9uJp38K4uiAkZV8scO2-M388yMpE1nZYachFbfCYbphlBFNcLv3Ty7cV4x_3345TnYnUfYFyp45KAUPoppx3nvaLTE-thgQ_PFqQhkBxGgyFkwdZj-nXA-Iqh49RBbecT9m9ww/s640/IMG_3251.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me, relaxin'. That is the machine that delivered my dose of, er, marker fluid.</i></td></tr>
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A few days before my scan, I was convinced I had the worst & most stubborn case of painful Thrush ever. I phoned Erin McMenamin, my Oncology CRNP Extraordinaire, and she asked me to stop in after my scan & she would take a look, bless her heart. I brought some goodies with me, in appreciation of seeing me without an appointment. (Make your own cute <a href="http://www.johannaparkerdesign.com/Share/Johanna's-Spring-Cone.pdf">Spring-Cone</a>.) Erin sat me down & clicked on the Flashlite app on her iPhone (heh-heh!), and took a look.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPDStFH0pdzpmEtUf0kkDn_A4d4YC4bdVlOParH1smdnQi4UgjpWSlsIuEcI_vcJqrDj5omgxOwHa2mylDQ1hqKMnbvg1WHhOKWRsacKnlaJL3UV7UAs0qqum1t965wzSd648Gmg-FGc/s1600/IMG_3246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPDStFH0pdzpmEtUf0kkDn_A4d4YC4bdVlOParH1smdnQi4UgjpWSlsIuEcI_vcJqrDj5omgxOwHa2mylDQ1hqKMnbvg1WHhOKWRsacKnlaJL3UV7UAs0qqum1t965wzSd648Gmg-FGc/s400/IMG_3246.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Little cones filled with Happiness</i> :)</td></tr>
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<br />"No, you do not have Thrush." She asked if my tongue felt like pins & needles.<br />
"YES! Exactly!" says I. Erin explained that this is because my nerve endings are healing so this is a Good Thing.<br />
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Hurrah! I am so relieved to hear that this is all part of the healing process.<br />
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And here is a picture of Erin, for whom I am mightily grateful for:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwVm4vji-fl0BGrvzAVIJqz_BShvV8Q7qmPnRh890Jy7MqTrpnx600QTLp6GBY66H6St3_9N83Y4R1LEkdyE2Be01zy6oZchIoTcYsKpQ6FcwZ4E7U4EG7gpLlpcnVvBAnM3W2dbVPKI/s1600/IMG_3257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwVm4vji-fl0BGrvzAVIJqz_BShvV8Q7qmPnRh890Jy7MqTrpnx600QTLp6GBY66H6St3_9N83Y4R1LEkdyE2Be01zy6oZchIoTcYsKpQ6FcwZ4E7U4EG7gpLlpcnVvBAnM3W2dbVPKI/s400/IMG_3257.jpg" width="311" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Erin McMenamin, MSN, CRNP and <br />TCP (Totally Cool Person)</i></td></tr>
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It is Sunday night as I write this. I find that I am only a little nervous about my scan results. I have not cleaned out any drawers all weekend. (Although I did not send out invites for Easter at our house ~~ just in case.)<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">Things I am noticing... </span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">(feel free to skip, I write this mainly for others in my Throat Boat)</span></i></span><br />
• My hair is growing back! I backed up to Craig, flipped a handful of hair up and commanded, "Look!" Craig asks, "What am I looking at?" I turned around and smacked him in the arm. "My <b><i>HAIR</i></b> is growing back!" I explained.<br />
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• Sometimes I sleep great & sometimes I am awake until <i>Dawn spreads her rosy fingers, yada, yada, yada</i>. I fill the space between the small hours by listening to podcasts. A recent one I've stumbled on after googling: "Stories", is one called "<a href="http://risk-show.com/">Risk</a>". One story a week is produced and I have listened from 2010 all the way up to the late 2012's. Sleep better return before the stories run out! Other favorites are <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/">This American Life</a> and <a href="http://www.selectedshorts.org/">Selected Shorts.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMHqomkdqQ_7v_O5AIlt7JCHN_FvhxuLQqt-eGOBNrMV3r0W67-C2QR04A9umJIGrkBsQkNlNrZ3ZkTj23SpyCrlp4hzSixNsEM2NUTJWOKjrg46DVEHoOKnatf7ePcU4VFDvrzi1DyQ/s1600/IMG_3188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMHqomkdqQ_7v_O5AIlt7JCHN_FvhxuLQqt-eGOBNrMV3r0W67-C2QR04A9umJIGrkBsQkNlNrZ3ZkTj23SpyCrlp4hzSixNsEM2NUTJWOKjrg46DVEHoOKnatf7ePcU4VFDvrzi1DyQ/s200/IMG_3188.jpg" width="150" /></a>• I do the Lymphatic message on myself daily and try to wear my attractive compression bandage as I go about my day here at home, whipping it off & behind my back when any of the boys come home. My left ear gets blocked up, then clears. I'm guessing this is because of my lymph fluids saying, "Where the heck are we supposed to be going again?". Also, a tooth-achy kind of feeling in my jaw that comes and goes.<br />
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• And my poor tongue! It's sore and it's tiresome to eat and talk. I didn't realize just how much I thoroughly enjoyed those two activities. Craig's probably praying this continues, heh-heh! A Silent, Skinny wife.<br />
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• <i><b>TMI Alert!</b></i><br />
Because my tongue and throat are a bit different than my original stock issued model, eating takes time. My small bites of food tend to form into a big mush ball and I have to keep quietly coughing it back up into my mouth for several go's before I can finally swallow it. If I am by myself, I cough it up with all the gusto, noise and facial contortions of our black lab, Shadow. I drink lots of water with my meals.<br />
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<h4>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">My 15 minutes of Fame, courtesy of Cancer</span></i></h4>
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I was contacted by Penn for an interview about my experiences as a patient and to link this blog with their page so others going through this can come visit me. I am thrilled to help anyone I can. When the interview is up on their site, I'll post a link.</div>
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<h4>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">So now it's Monday</span></i></h4>
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Waiting for results. Will post when I hear!</div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-74226522007581533482013-03-02T12:34:00.001-08:002013-03-02T12:34:13.021-08:00The C-Bomb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa48RDdAv7q4zLGggua_T8xWzcSOmTn5VCn-c2-0_qDYFT9hLotLJTk_CEANe1zL0contpMEEv0p3irux-ea_cgc-qSbhVXTMcQem7UzHjXTFMGjKpowo9KNtSA2bjTFkpBI52fzP-3A/s1600/IMG_3180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa48RDdAv7q4zLGggua_T8xWzcSOmTn5VCn-c2-0_qDYFT9hLotLJTk_CEANe1zL0contpMEEv0p3irux-ea_cgc-qSbhVXTMcQem7UzHjXTFMGjKpowo9KNtSA2bjTFkpBI52fzP-3A/s400/IMG_3180.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me (L) with my teeny but fierce<br />PT trainer, Dana. Jeeze, my<br />hair looks really stupid.</i></td></tr>
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I finished my last physical therapy session at <a href="http://www.apex-pt.com/">Apex</a> for my left arm, which was weak because muscles had to be cut during my neck dissection. My arm is almost back to normal now & able to carry multiple shopping bags :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBV1u42KBmqWI77K2zqUhpA1WLuHpL4wsv8YAkDpBnPyEX13_XNX8QiZrfy9BXYonnqsz_HXvZyiow3-3NEv6_SJbeHVDcvi0WtFD0NCn15cGS68iqISfXrPBNAsc_FhH2u5sfnzHfyQ/s1600/IMG_3188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBV1u42KBmqWI77K2zqUhpA1WLuHpL4wsv8YAkDpBnPyEX13_XNX8QiZrfy9BXYonnqsz_HXvZyiow3-3NEv6_SJbeHVDcvi0WtFD0NCn15cGS68iqISfXrPBNAsc_FhH2u5sfnzHfyQ/s320/IMG_3188.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Ears to you!</i></td></tr>
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I am nearing the end of lymphodema therapy at the Radnor branch of HUP. Stephanie taught me how to gently massage the lymph areas to drain the lymph fluids. I have to wear a compression bandage around my head for several hours daily, like an old-timey toothache cure. It makes me giggle every time I put it on because it reminds me of The Three Stooges and plus, it makes my cheeks puff out. I have not allowed my husband Craig to see this lovely vision, and rip it off whenever I hear him coming. I can dress it up for seasonal occasions by adding assorted animal ears, though. Easter is coming, so I made bunny ears. Too bad I don't have the boobs to go with.<br />
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Recently, I stopped at our local market to pick up some items & as I was at the self-check out register, the woman employee who stood at the main register said,<br />
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"You look great! I almost didn't know you, you've lost weigh!"<br />
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"Yes! It's the Radiation Diet!", I piped up brightly.<br />
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The poor woman! Her face fell instantly and she started stammering, "Oh! I'm so sorry!" I apologized for dropping the C-Bomb on her, explaining that I was used to the idea but I keep forgetting how jolting it can be to hear "CANCER" for the first time. I'm sure it conjures up a different & horrible picture for every single soul who hears that word. Who <b><i>doesn't </i></b>know of someone who died of cancer?<br />
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I felt bad for the awkward spot I put her in and I silently vowed not to do that to people anymore. I'll be hearkening back to my Mom's training of "just graciously say thank you". Let me get it out of my system here. RADIATION DIET! RADIATION DIET! RADIATION DIET! Whew.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhej8HFqP4-Z8CxGpTgCLf7VA8f-srIp4WntPqpVEvAa2i4kxYMIl7SE1elXKW82s9YOEl96o2uFHXh0GBbIosBm5fRXfUmEXLFicBUdBCokoqA5ubndPGOQ8Q4Ka992cK3x_89XWTyNPQ/s1600/IMG_3184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhej8HFqP4-Z8CxGpTgCLf7VA8f-srIp4WntPqpVEvAa2i4kxYMIl7SE1elXKW82s9YOEl96o2uFHXh0GBbIosBm5fRXfUmEXLFicBUdBCokoqA5ubndPGOQ8Q4Ka992cK3x_89XWTyNPQ/s640/IMG_3184.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dinah, making sure I cross my t's and dot my i's.</i></td></tr>
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The only issue I (think I) have now is this damn thrush in my mouth. I just finished up my 3rd round of Fluconazole and it seems to be less and less effective. Eating some foods is like eating shards of glass. I'm finding that once again, I'm less & less interested in food. This is a quandary at our house because my husband & son <b><i>don't </i></b>want to eat because they don't want to gain weight, especially Phil, who is couch-bound from ACL surgery last week. I <i><b>have </b></i>to eat but don't want to eat. I even bought a box of Frosted Raspberry Pop Tarts ~ my own version of crack ~ and they are still here after three sunrises. I've had a Secret Pop Tart Addiction ever since my Mom refused to buy them, almost half a century ago. When I share this painful addiction, people look at me like I'm nuts. "<i>POP</i> Tarts? Yuck!" they say.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I haven't tried a glass of wine yet, but look forward to it!</i></td></tr>
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I do buy healthy foods ~ honest. I bought green grapes and discovered I could barely open my mouth wide enough to fit a grape in. If you are reading this and are undergoing a similar procedure, please do your mouth exercises to keep the scar tissues from becoming wooden and immobile! I constantly have to remind myself of this.<br />
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Life is resuming a more normal pace & I am mighty grateful!<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-22452437279687005622013-02-20T09:16:00.000-08:002013-02-20T09:16:24.843-08:00Dear Doctors,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yesterday I went for an MRI of my neck. It was done with and without dye. Unlike the iodine dye injected for my CAT scans, this dye did not make my va-jj heat up. Darn.<br />
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I was given a small bulb-type alarm to squeeze if I was going to panic, and the choice of ear plugs or music headphones. I chose music but the machine noises easily over-shouted my rock & roll. Two plastic forms were put over my neck and head, a comfy blanket put over me and I was loaded in the MRI, torpedo-style. The scans took about 30 minutes total. If you ever have one, be prepared for all sorts of loud whirlings, beeps, chords, etc... There was one noise that sounded like an alarm and it was... alarming. No panicky voices came over the intercom, so I relaxed, confident my head wasn't going to be whirled off.<br />
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I had an appointment with Dr. O'Malley a few hours later. Thanks to the integrated computer system, my MRI results were read, a report was generated & sent to my doctor within that time so he had results in hand when I was sitting in his chair. Yet again, HUP continues to amaze me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVe0WGmNiD41gPvfZ4_2sKA1TnlIcbuuJgxkdQbIE2yFPEP8wuHCPlS1ZNDGv9fB6mOVEikfEt78GKDuUWzE4kYNuJN5HrlLQ9MX6h0-pSr9UZa9yQlOQw5Thi7p5Z3TxvAADo75D58ZQ/s1600/IMG_3139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVe0WGmNiD41gPvfZ4_2sKA1TnlIcbuuJgxkdQbIE2yFPEP8wuHCPlS1ZNDGv9fB6mOVEikfEt78GKDuUWzE4kYNuJN5HrlLQ9MX6h0-pSr9UZa9yQlOQw5Thi7p5Z3TxvAADo75D58ZQ/s400/IMG_3139.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Milkshake from the Potbelly</i></td></tr>
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Since I had a few hours to stew before my doctor appointment, I decided, damn it! I was going to treat myself to a milkshake from <a href="http://www.potbelly.com/Food/OurMenu.aspx?subPage=Sandwiches">Potbelly Sandwiches</a>. It was wonderful; made with hard-dip't ice cream & presented with two wee shortbread cookies threaded on the straw. Very cool presentation and it got me thinking about stealing that cookie idea for the <a href="http://www.icehousedelivers.com/new/">Ice House</a>...<br />
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My appointment with Dr. O'Malley was running behind time so naturally I was thinking, "Crap! It's bad news & he's busy figuring out my next surgery." When I was taken to an exam room, it was a different set up than previous ones ~ with lots of chairs for the grieving entourage, I reasoned.<br />
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A nurse numbed my nose (say that five times fast) with spray in readiness for the scope. Doc O'Malley came in and made my knees weak by saying the MRI showed the best possible outcome. Yay! He used the scope to look at the surgery site and said all was well. I'm scheduled back in two months when I will have had a PET scan under my belt. Hoping for same type of happy results for that test also.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqZU2KPWEX7gAW7oDv7M_fhyphenhyphen-TpJmcGHiV3cFUgczwQMakI80b8es1UWk4FakIUR3M2FcTz9oQi2vUsFzzAB9wYH9kcbmouAwRvUgBX2N5TMePhOupeZ64DZL44YiN1bOsPznkFbjUTkc/s1600/IMG_3143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqZU2KPWEX7gAW7oDv7M_fhyphenhyphen-TpJmcGHiV3cFUgczwQMakI80b8es1UWk4FakIUR3M2FcTz9oQi2vUsFzzAB9wYH9kcbmouAwRvUgBX2N5TMePhOupeZ64DZL44YiN1bOsPznkFbjUTkc/s640/IMG_3143.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
I feel better in teeny increments every day.<br />
<br />
I am still dealing with thrush in my mouth. It's great for the waistline as it makes my tongue tender & sore. Eating is a chore and not a pleasure.<br />
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I am in the midst of PT for my left arm/shoulder and have started <a href="http://www.cancer.net/all-about-cancer/cancernet-feature-articles/side-effects/head-and-neck-lymphedema-swelling-after-cancer-treatment">lymphedema Therapy</a>.<br />
<br />
Things are going well and the bites of elephant are tasting better these days :)Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-50683252966306629512013-01-31T09:01:00.000-08:002013-01-31T12:21:04.662-08:00The Tardy Bell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hello all you peeps! As I've written emails to some people, texted or talked to others, I realized I'd better get on the stick and write a new post ~ WITH pictures of "The Ringin' 'O' The Bell". For cryin' out loud, how could I omit that? Thanks, Miz Munchberry, for pointing out where I was remiss. So, here ~ without further delay, are the Bell pictures and oh what a happy day that was.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLYzVs8xmqD9CLHlGEqxCPo2hJJU4Sr2LbpnVwnFox62s7KQN2XPNbs6JfCa0nJpEJjXMY9LRxKQB_qFCd13Z_WhcUlpYB0bSN_bn0Z90kG3Njuzo61ABOD69bOe-ZIINu0NDcaULGBQ/s1600/IMG_2970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLYzVs8xmqD9CLHlGEqxCPo2hJJU4Sr2LbpnVwnFox62s7KQN2XPNbs6JfCa0nJpEJjXMY9LRxKQB_qFCd13Z_WhcUlpYB0bSN_bn0Z90kG3Njuzo61ABOD69bOe-ZIINu0NDcaULGBQ/s640/IMG_2970.jpg" width="514" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ta-Da! Craig, myself & our son Phillip on Christmas Eve ~ last day of radiation.</i></td></tr>
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And here's my radiation buddies, Theresa & Don:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9y9e_F3PpMd0n8yk9Xd5VrV4uDLHJ174TNeRPeMgLBObKDLzqUqZ5zeyiAdUcUUPK3ALxQbcNNxmMsOmVglieSp84rbpd5pe8jZ2kHpBVNa9YD7y-eVoWhtWUuL8_rJdH_OOpisH4as8/s1600/IMG_2968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9y9e_F3PpMd0n8yk9Xd5VrV4uDLHJ174TNeRPeMgLBObKDLzqUqZ5zeyiAdUcUUPK3ALxQbcNNxmMsOmVglieSp84rbpd5pe8jZ2kHpBVNa9YD7y-eVoWhtWUuL8_rJdH_OOpisH4as8/s640/IMG_2968.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Don & I were on the same radiation schedule & he rang out on Christmas Eve too!</i></td></tr>
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My actual doctor appointments are slowly peetering out to every few weeks, once a month, etc...<br />
<div>
• I have an MRI scheduled for February 19 and a PET scan in March. </div>
<div>
• I will go for twice weekly therapy for my lymph nodes in my neck for a few months, called "Complex Lymphedema Therapy". This will help drain the lymph fluid from my neck, lessen the swelling and aid in the healing. </div>
<div>
• I will go for PT for my shoulder to get back full movement of my left arm. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Erin McMenamine, my most awesome Oncology NP of the <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">amazing</span></b></i> <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">silver hair</span></b>, is so reassuring to talk with. She listens to my fears, tells me they are normal and only has encouraging words to say. God Bless you, woman!<br />
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<br /></div>
<div>
I keep my medicines in a pretty lidded basket in the kitchen, trying to disguise any taint of illness from Phil. I am happy to report that I am only on one nerve pain medicine. Way down from the oodles of bottles & potions I juggled in days past! I will begin down-stepping the Gabapentin starting next week, as per Erin's orders. Hopefully, my missing brain cells will return and I can stop going through packs of "Post-its". My computer screen is wreathed in Post-Its!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
What else? I have taken a few yoga classes until I caught Phil's cold ~ bah! Feeling ready to start yoga-ing again in February. I have scheduled a Hair Appointment. I have gone shopping at the mall. I have prepared actual dinners with a protein, a starch and a vegetable. Of course I have baked:)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now it's Phil's turn for medical stuff. He came down hard on his left leg during a basketball game & heard a <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">pop</span></b></i> sound. Diagnose? Torn ACL, nine months in a brace, lots of PT. My heart bleeds for him.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEqfT2EdUIpI5WD19WtFxfYhMpXukIKyXXh3s7mKgA4O2IE4AxeAizB6hYHln_gq_DW7hHtV1piRMuuVBZ_0sISlSXEakwYDvuACgmiKrASXb2bHsGEXYa9riXg0G7TfMmgcpFG8hPPo/s1600/IMG_3061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEqfT2EdUIpI5WD19WtFxfYhMpXukIKyXXh3s7mKgA4O2IE4AxeAizB6hYHln_gq_DW7hHtV1piRMuuVBZ_0sISlSXEakwYDvuACgmiKrASXb2bHsGEXYa9riXg0G7TfMmgcpFG8hPPo/s640/IMG_3061.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dr. Lipton at Brandywine Orthopedics surveys the damage.</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHRibcHghvyWF6p0fDhf_djQgdHinOkMflvPsajNr1T1zFmZOLv-vaRolW-04AYSbmbinRwTRk_6JAchZ97heSWm8071kr1CbsMdKprjYUZcCmDAn6FP2xvODzFwAsnNrcZhvTnhDx58/s1600/IMG_3057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHRibcHghvyWF6p0fDhf_djQgdHinOkMflvPsajNr1T1zFmZOLv-vaRolW-04AYSbmbinRwTRk_6JAchZ97heSWm8071kr1CbsMdKprjYUZcCmDAn6FP2xvODzFwAsnNrcZhvTnhDx58/s400/IMG_3057.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Seems I'm not the only one in the fam getting MRI's.</i></td></tr>
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<div>
<div>
Should I suggest he start a blog?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa0ikOGmJcwcoLr1c_HQvVX3qPdFkRhLNW02hYHW-XMLyrm5MggQrzN_m1W14ElEZtvDdQadyPJ36pfYPl3Zs09f1dW7kKqKErhvY-YiHex9m8e9gezPfpmf7cxDnkCWoI4SKnok45G0/s1600/IMG_2618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa0ikOGmJcwcoLr1c_HQvVX3qPdFkRhLNW02hYHW-XMLyrm5MggQrzN_m1W14ElEZtvDdQadyPJ36pfYPl3Zs09f1dW7kKqKErhvY-YiHex9m8e9gezPfpmf7cxDnkCWoI4SKnok45G0/s320/IMG_2618.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
My radiation mask is still rolling around in the back of the car. I absentmindedly push it aside to load groceries. I have mixed emotions about it. I was thinking about jamming a cigarette in the mouth section and hanging it up on our sunporch, where Craig smokes. Then I thought that would just annoy him. I know he doesn't want to smoke. I know he wants to quit. He will or he won't. (How Yoda-like:)<br />
<br />
But I hope he will. I remember a few years ago when I was still smoking, I would wonder, "Is this the cigarette that is going to be the last straw on the camels back? Is this the one that's going to send my nice, delightful healthy cells over the edge?"<br />
<br />
Thanks again for keeping me in mind & for the prayers. Boy, I sure appreciate 'em and I am <u>daily</u> humbled by the care and concern of my friend, family & medical team.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: yellow; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Ya all <b>ROCK!</b></span></i><br />
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-13128194843873058102013-01-09T18:43:00.002-08:002013-01-09T18:43:57.829-08:00Happy New Year!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixgzni6X-0H_9b-ObDmkIFweuVxxQuzlBl_UPgfpkcvRJKgBq9laUUcA8ZHa1OA0HipznzFJfL00k-D7YNFPsgzqLlESndl7ColUFh6FX50fpR_L-gAxW91SdjMzTCsIypy9Tmbx83P4/s1600/IMG_2908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixgzni6X-0H_9b-ObDmkIFweuVxxQuzlBl_UPgfpkcvRJKgBq9laUUcA8ZHa1OA0HipznzFJfL00k-D7YNFPsgzqLlESndl7ColUFh6FX50fpR_L-gAxW91SdjMzTCsIypy9Tmbx83P4/s400/IMG_2908.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Happy New Year to us all!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">I realized an update is way overdue!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">I am feeling so much better these last two days. I feel like I've</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">turned a corner ~ yay! Yesterday, I had the energy to put Christmas</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">away (mostly), and am finally keeping up with the wash. I am starting</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">to think longingly of yoga class and dreaming of making lovely home-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">made dinners again. Cooking & cleaning: a sure sign of returning health!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">I go back in to see the docs this Wednesday, then again the end of</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">this month & in March. A PET scan will be taken a few months out &</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">will hopefully reveal a healthy neck.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">The recovery starting on Christmas Eve was pretty rough. There was a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">time when I just cried, bent over the sink with my pills clutched in</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">my hand. It was so hard to take them with my throat so sore. This was</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">the "Magical Weight Loss Period". I didn't eat anything for days &</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">days and didn't care. (Remember, I started out with a healthy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">reserve!) I was barely drinking. I slept all the time, with Fluffy, my</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">couch buddy always with me. What a good cat.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">Now, I could care less if I never saw another Bravo show, I've watched</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">so many!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">I got a kick listening to Craig & Phil make a nice dinner for</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">themselves while I was under. Phil went to the market and bought all</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">stuff you would be proud of; produce, fresh scallops, etc... They made</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">a Surf & Turf meal of scallops & steak, complete with two vegetables.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">AND CLEANED UP! It was a proud moment for me, I'm telling you. They</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">did this several times since.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">Wednesday: Today, I went for my first of quite a few follow-up visits. As expected, everything is healing along to schedule. I was told that my taste buds will come back in about six months, my throat will take a good 14 months to totally heal (!), no sun on my neck for the first year, etc... All stuff I can live with, and, have no choice in anyway so I'm not sweating it. I was reprimanded for losing weight, but am secretly delighted. I got the green light to do yoga & go to the gym. One of my complaints has been fatigue and it has been shown that the more exercise you get, the better you beat fatigue!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">Don & Theresa, I hope you are reading this, as I am wondering how you are. Please email me at suzan@ptdprolog.net and let me know how things are. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">So, I'm on the mend. My eyes tear up when I think of all the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">kindnesses extended to me and my family during the last 4-5 months. I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">am so blessed to have you all in my life! The thoughtful cards and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">gifts, the rides down to Philly ~ I couldn't have done it as well as I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;">did without all your love, caring and prayers.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-62609708806940365172012-12-22T07:53:00.000-08:002012-12-22T07:59:07.968-08:00Down to the wire!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QEHKhjks_kzzxWpihzSrp1WIUQM_sSkFzr0Gtz1-I3ONiFmON-9-eQGNFlHqOQ7mI5vAoSqWAMVtTgHffwa6Bos_sO1dOsf63UFita54_o37cPmxfuG8_oE-ZIh-oJetrmc7BIeTfVw/s1600/IMG_2948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QEHKhjks_kzzxWpihzSrp1WIUQM_sSkFzr0Gtz1-I3ONiFmON-9-eQGNFlHqOQ7mI5vAoSqWAMVtTgHffwa6Bos_sO1dOsf63UFita54_o37cPmxfuG8_oE-ZIh-oJetrmc7BIeTfVw/s200/IMG_2948.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Three times a day.</i></td></tr>
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My friend Mo told me what her Dad used to say:<br />
<i>"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I am down to my last bite of Radiation Elephant this Monday the 24th. The last time I will ever have to lie down under that huge Linac machine and have my head bolted to the table via The Mask. Hurrah!<br />
<br />
The only thing I will miss is the wonderful people I have met along the way. I am having a hard time gathering my thoughts because of all the meds I am on, but my new buds, Theresa & Don have been pestering me to make a new entry. So, this one's for you, Theresa & Don! Don is undergoing the same treatment as me, as far as the mask & radiation schedule goes. We will both be done radiation on the same day. Don is much braver than I, as he is undergoing chemo at the same time :'(<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV2wOcMkmFwFrRwjzDYNm5cNFuWVeh-qWCM_3rpmiEOdqB7TxpPMCLFFHXa2JaNBD5f4Z97iVsbMXf0xXwmUN8lnCgD91Wpi1xjkfK7jMiBM67kRNuNX5uLeTPq0gbHTsFT-uo7fDZOY/s1600/IMG_2953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV2wOcMkmFwFrRwjzDYNm5cNFuWVeh-qWCM_3rpmiEOdqB7TxpPMCLFFHXa2JaNBD5f4Z97iVsbMXf0xXwmUN8lnCgD91Wpi1xjkfK7jMiBM67kRNuNX5uLeTPq0gbHTsFT-uo7fDZOY/s640/IMG_2953.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Theresa & Don</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Udh0OEF5dHjtEMj2_8npN83bFRnmVSuFTA7Yo1DyfM-dOYPlrakhSXk1n-T-vk_b8O8YSHuRBn9DiRe1R7xwC8LG3AAtCllRcZtVRRdWdj7TynA8kCBJmNY4f7UaQZB9HL6X5oyBueA/s1600/IMG_2958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Udh0OEF5dHjtEMj2_8npN83bFRnmVSuFTA7Yo1DyfM-dOYPlrakhSXk1n-T-vk_b8O8YSHuRBn9DiRe1R7xwC8LG3AAtCllRcZtVRRdWdj7TynA8kCBJmNY4f7UaQZB9HL6X5oyBueA/s320/IMG_2958.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A handsome ER doc. (Yeah, I had an overnight at the ER)</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I sighed to Craig, "I can't WAIT for this to be over!" & he replied, "Yeah, but you will miss the people." I've got to say he is correct. Here's some more pictures of people at HUP who have made me smile & inspired me... </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBuznijHkESFeUpCsEPG2A5guM_hyphenhyphenyGsK24Z7Q00yEOM64MQOSDI50Nb9FWA0ZHT2hlpiU_P_JuMpIBa00bEAJWUeeKcfoURpNrXf23c50i9mqCOquGX0HlvSUZkIeOwjM1pLA-0lSf4/s1600/IMG_2955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBuznijHkESFeUpCsEPG2A5guM_hyphenhyphenyGsK24Z7Q00yEOM64MQOSDI50Nb9FWA0ZHT2hlpiU_P_JuMpIBa00bEAJWUeeKcfoURpNrXf23c50i9mqCOquGX0HlvSUZkIeOwjM1pLA-0lSf4/s320/IMG_2955.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Kimberly & Paul. Paul rang the bell last week</i>.</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3kU5je78SUpbp7vxH6T1-UjB5CCQ4QRsHRnGyb2EdIz8uWbFuWAnp5xHJL5RKHQomtVsDXO_ztzOu0jSGnlqnsiGwAFl2ulSygsQz-tv2fUvf_KLXkWFcxquJBS8LPmYzkLrc0S9R9Q/s1600/IMG_2937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3kU5je78SUpbp7vxH6T1-UjB5CCQ4QRsHRnGyb2EdIz8uWbFuWAnp5xHJL5RKHQomtVsDXO_ztzOu0jSGnlqnsiGwAFl2ulSygsQz-tv2fUvf_KLXkWFcxquJBS8LPmYzkLrc0S9R9Q/s320/IMG_2937.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyhwcULq-n-pgOuM4P1Nclx23pHRsGwNPgv3vr3VCL_M3pmR8IUDBGh8LQZnJV3uCcbm_24Z8nHIPPi_kVpTAdyfaefRdkM9-8pe3F4CCTsXccgWuxQB0ymDzEcWNVS5NKwS3izHZMgE/s1600/IMG_2935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyhwcULq-n-pgOuM4P1Nclx23pHRsGwNPgv3vr3VCL_M3pmR8IUDBGh8LQZnJV3uCcbm_24Z8nHIPPi_kVpTAdyfaefRdkM9-8pe3F4CCTsXccgWuxQB0ymDzEcWNVS5NKwS3izHZMgE/s320/IMG_2935.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Kay & Carol, volunteers in our <br />little corner of HUP. (They are not<br />conjoined twins.)</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklCPtolOmvhL6EENbeYKefg9gT1plLwMTA4D3YreMbT5WsmEyDD9_dDaysf65UoeZuD5TjGMQEvMA-FELdjYfrE2CnYxZFpsWE8bs8DE_TH7cmUB2wLQDU836i7Jp_PV-ezRhrwMSGO0/s1600/IMG_2963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklCPtolOmvhL6EENbeYKefg9gT1plLwMTA4D3YreMbT5WsmEyDD9_dDaysf65UoeZuD5TjGMQEvMA-FELdjYfrE2CnYxZFpsWE8bs8DE_TH7cmUB2wLQDU836i7Jp_PV-ezRhrwMSGO0/s400/IMG_2963.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>How I productively spend my days...</i></td></tr>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-54507523464677274572012-12-07T09:08:00.002-08:002012-12-08T08:20:44.386-08:00Radiation Vacation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIoeG8CzpwhTsiVFQNQg2OWmz5URK7sT30cHYM1G6KXDLG4VCMSJjeZmtmLolVDftAjeQ2ikPdXsQ3UpCNLpN8szRVgtmhQt1q8uk1SQDetmOGTrVwMKV85OtHPJOuLoEwh6-Mh7SIBU/s1600/IMG_2907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIoeG8CzpwhTsiVFQNQg2OWmz5URK7sT30cHYM1G6KXDLG4VCMSJjeZmtmLolVDftAjeQ2ikPdXsQ3UpCNLpN8szRVgtmhQt1q8uk1SQDetmOGTrVwMKV85OtHPJOuLoEwh6-Mh7SIBU/s640/IMG_2907.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mo's Creations ~ beautiful, huh? I have to give the toolbox back after Christmas:)</i></td></tr>
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I seem to be having a hard time gathering my thoughts enough to create an interesting post for you-all. They scatter here & there more than usual. A friend told me this was the case with her also when she was on one of the same meds. *whew* So that's why I haven't updated for a while.<br />
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Today will be my nineteenth out of thirty treatments, so I feel as though I'm coming down the home stretch... <b><i>Come On Sea Biscuit!</i></b> the crowd in my head roars.<br />
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Today's appointment was pushed back until 6:10 tonight... because the machine broke down. Ummm, huh? I wouldn't want to be the person it broke down on, nor the first person to go after it has been fixed. My one nightmare as I lie strapped to the plank under the humming machine is that it will run amok and keep radiating me until my neck burns away from my body, while the techs frantically try to turn the machine off.<br />
There. I said it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvuVszY9MSO-Fwljf8edMlg5Oe8VxOnEFFr_rrNcpY_rA7mqAd2CY0A25o0YtYzDzA1ftwRa27-1S4Mvf4m3JhHABT7Qlhz9CaZeWAqc1ZFhhHfJFoDF9hsmDXiGhXXrnTYvawA4WSVe4/s1600/IMG_2878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvuVszY9MSO-Fwljf8edMlg5Oe8VxOnEFFr_rrNcpY_rA7mqAd2CY0A25o0YtYzDzA1ftwRa27-1S4Mvf4m3JhHABT7Qlhz9CaZeWAqc1ZFhhHfJFoDF9hsmDXiGhXXrnTYvawA4WSVe4/s640/IMG_2878.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Christmas lights covered in snow.</i></td></tr>
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I put up lights & decorations (such as they are) several weeks ago. I sure like me some Christmas lights!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUm6c7vt3Nd9RudhpErReeHhULguzBTnrYSRE9Yg58VWIAhenXIY3KnSE2-aB2HA2-WrE1mO4s8WOMfGRNnPYt_6YjR14HU5HEXCJnIYR5828bThpHiOm2UViJVJ4OiJB1_d-hlnc2yJ8/s1600/IMG_2913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUm6c7vt3Nd9RudhpErReeHhULguzBTnrYSRE9Yg58VWIAhenXIY3KnSE2-aB2HA2-WrE1mO4s8WOMfGRNnPYt_6YjR14HU5HEXCJnIYR5828bThpHiOm2UViJVJ4OiJB1_d-hlnc2yJ8/s320/IMG_2913.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Thin & crispy ~ not what I was going for.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></i></td></tr>
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I saw a cooking show where Sand Tart cookies were featured. My mouth watered as I viewed the soft, puffy cookies. "I'm going to make them!", I vowed, and got the butter out to soften. Well, I screwed up somewhere along the line because instead of soft, puffy delishishment, I got hard, crispy, radiated throat-ripping flat cookies that sat around the house for days and were finally banished to the trash can. The first time I can ever remember throwing away cookies :(<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqQXqgJLMMYEloJ9npvn5A6HVcIk0igEJNnUaLsHu_T-gPmfqfUMdlbdhOW52-p2C_ULYQE0HSLulizrOcOHcKWibEesNAoDPcZPwYy8IZGJSePwRso5mEEnaJIGe5ICbJTPs6dl4X3w/s1600/IMG_2920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqQXqgJLMMYEloJ9npvn5A6HVcIk0igEJNnUaLsHu_T-gPmfqfUMdlbdhOW52-p2C_ULYQE0HSLulizrOcOHcKWibEesNAoDPcZPwYy8IZGJSePwRso5mEEnaJIGe5ICbJTPs6dl4X3w/s640/IMG_2920.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Elephant Eating Chart</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkXcLtjiY3Gn7D9Via9yAH7Kr41rkLeHlNsHnVJmlThWmyxUGdtOe5XUhFz09jRJE1FbWzinPPDWVMDXHOnsiEq_6jeA2CGeBDn431BRHJwNRcwDSVTQlpn3Y-6KsRmhgDU_trRN9y0g/s1600/IMG_2904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkXcLtjiY3Gn7D9Via9yAH7Kr41rkLeHlNsHnVJmlThWmyxUGdtOe5XUhFz09jRJE1FbWzinPPDWVMDXHOnsiEq_6jeA2CGeBDn431BRHJwNRcwDSVTQlpn3Y-6KsRmhgDU_trRN9y0g/s320/IMG_2904.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>So says Miz Ellie</i></td></tr>
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And here's a snappy saying from my antiquing bud, Ellie Carroll, who always has such a sunny outlook on life :)</div>
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<h4>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">How I'm Feeling (Bitch & Moan section)</span></i></h4>
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At my eighteenth treatment, I am on Gabapentin; a nerve pain reliever, Magic Mouthwash; a numbing agent, a mouthwash for thrush (a condition that seems to come with the radiation territory), a topical numbing gel for the inside of my mouth, a (what I think is a) mild narcotic for throat pain and (Oh how it kills me to say this word...) a STOOL softener because all the meds do a number on the pipes. Oh, plus fluoride for the teeth every night. I was contemplating getting myself a pretty pill case then thought in horror: "Old Lady-hood is raising its ugly head". Plastic baggies will do just fine for a few more weeks.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jZ6dqoIsPH2ZfrAdqlQAFPj_7rifY0YetcTRHb6Wzg2G0Akgv-P-4oEFBZ_kaOShcR5aEOYh2z2VZbKpzRKogS-9gvHUYJqr9WejSCps6S5HkXe1NWlgVcK9hOjV_-6OPiqQLXyh-RY/s1600/IMG_2925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jZ6dqoIsPH2ZfrAdqlQAFPj_7rifY0YetcTRHb6Wzg2G0Akgv-P-4oEFBZ_kaOShcR5aEOYh2z2VZbKpzRKogS-9gvHUYJqr9WejSCps6S5HkXe1NWlgVcK9hOjV_-6OPiqQLXyh-RY/s400/IMG_2925.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Laundry Station<br />a.k.a. Dining Room Table</i></td></tr>
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My throat & mouth still hurt, despite the meds & I am tired lots. Instead of doing the wash, cleaning & marketing all in about a half a day or so, I now choose which one task has to get done. The family is not complaining one bit, and in fact, probably don't notice the wafts of dog hair. As long as clean underwear and socks magically appear on the dining room table, they are fine. </div>
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Bless their hair covered hearts.<br />
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-35583014867166029132012-11-27T05:54:00.001-08:002012-11-27T14:00:28.768-08:00Hair today...Yay! I finally have something to write about ~ I'm losing my hair! And here I always thought it would be our teenager that would make this happen. Just kidding, Phil is a wonderful teen ~ nay, a man in teen clothing.<br />
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Suddenly! This morning in the shower a great glob of hair gathered at the drain, plus more as I combed. Dr. Ahn said there would be days like this. Actually, he told me that I may lose the hair around the bottom of my scalp, and that's where it's coming (going?) from.<br />
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On the bright side, my left cheek is as smooth as the day I was born :) No facial hair that I can see.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>I'm losing hair~</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>it will come back.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4RHE2eWBEqc5iVFRu9cBxnrLeFygHH1lnINDWBzNGp4Hu_O0fSH7k0pAgV1fu3qTz8Og5AvT5N0J7bl5L7zV68ZtLDITnHFD7jdo0t5HSwGSDB4jsd-gld-Y6wxGo2Jm3-ZJSBE8FNc/s1600/pink-limo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4RHE2eWBEqc5iVFRu9cBxnrLeFygHH1lnINDWBzNGp4Hu_O0fSH7k0pAgV1fu3qTz8Og5AvT5N0J7bl5L7zV68ZtLDITnHFD7jdo0t5HSwGSDB4jsd-gld-Y6wxGo2Jm3-ZJSBE8FNc/s320/pink-limo.gif" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>I'm losing taste~</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>it will come back.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>I'm losing voice~</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>it will come back.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>I'm losing cancer cells~</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b>it better not come back!</b></span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><b><br /></b></span></i>
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My friend Jill has organized my limo service which kicks in next week. I had hoped to drive myself longer but the doc is putting me on narcotics soon and says I can't drive when I'm on 'em. It should make for some dreamy trips down the Schyulkill! On the other hand, if I drove on drugs, I would be like 25% of the other drivers. Many heart-felt thanks to my Drivers. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><3</span> (that is the symbol for a heart, Aunt Sue & Mom!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiR8JVIgD1JaEmiUjRlY0Nnc-1nEUqT1K_cCiy6e333gwdWUiHBkoot-o-Tez4w6DtqiRMH9XCKG9q6uh2J12bLoHIMTIP_7EamFDth0mSToMcgyvNFRNtrWNM9mmQ_cW1zbxOhiX2DfY/s1600/IMG_2869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiR8JVIgD1JaEmiUjRlY0Nnc-1nEUqT1K_cCiy6e333gwdWUiHBkoot-o-Tez4w6DtqiRMH9XCKG9q6uh2J12bLoHIMTIP_7EamFDth0mSToMcgyvNFRNtrWNM9mmQ_cW1zbxOhiX2DfY/s320/IMG_2869.JPG" width="320" /></a>Today's trip should be interesting. I'm watching the snow fall & the cars crawl. My appointment is at 11:30 ~ think I'll be leaving soon with my empty Ragu jars!<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Update:</span></b><br />
T'was a slow but easy ride down & back from the city. I saw several cars in ditches and one over-turned truck. The good news is, I did not have to use my "equipment". No lady-like Ragu jars for me; I brought a honkin' big Tupperware vat.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-78809120404938139062012-11-19T14:19:00.000-08:002012-11-19T14:19:00.079-08:00The Secret Life of Radiation Techs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBUM4zIuXa1vt4K5WsLOGOsiDNXR0jYhmP0-7ZZFHSmwnvEoJxmsbYgcC2XDpQCsSb07TcdviNRR2gEkmDNTAjF9m3BWd30MsiGNZ3rnQZgkMrJ9crYyCI_b-UTh0Nr4W-nKJjBl4GaQ/s1600/IMG_2797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBUM4zIuXa1vt4K5WsLOGOsiDNXR0jYhmP0-7ZZFHSmwnvEoJxmsbYgcC2XDpQCsSb07TcdviNRR2gEkmDNTAjF9m3BWd30MsiGNZ3rnQZgkMrJ9crYyCI_b-UTh0Nr4W-nKJjBl4GaQ/s640/IMG_2797.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-22252365056335124552012-11-16T06:01:00.000-08:002012-11-16T06:01:17.613-08:00My Brother Bill chimes in again.<br />
My last post ended with the fervent wish that I would never have to pee while on the Schuylkill Expressway. Brother Bill quickly replied with the following missive...<br />
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<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Peeing on the Schuylkill:</span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
Someone should write a book. My fellow commuter, Bob favored orange juice quart containers (due largely to Bob's predilection for robust swigging of OJ while at the wheel and his questionable vehicle housekeeping standards). Back then in the 70's they had fold open spouts rather than the modern screw cap configuration. The spout afforded full nozzle insertion. This reduced the challenge to simply insuring gravity remained a friend. The procedure was best executed while stopped in traffic as it required posturing & attention not commensurate with vehicular operation. Bob reports the process is typically at least messy, particularly if a quart container is not enough. And of course one is left holding an open container of urine until arriving at destination. </div>
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I understand from another friend, Roseanne that a Ragu spaghetti sauce jar is more suited to those members of the gentler gender. That has the added luxury of resealing the container as long as one keeps track of the lid. </div>
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Me, being a Buckwalter boy, well I typically do not plan ahead until I have several painfully uncomfortable experiences "under my belt". Subsequently my approach is to put off relief until the point of near uromysitisis* poisoning, then pull over, get out and pee. Along the SureKill that means:</div>
<div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
a). If gridlock, I have a suite of spectators who are afforded the complete spectacle of an understandable but socially repugnant enterprise. </div>
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b) one wheel of my ride is strategically selected for a golden shower. </div>
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c) I subsequently have time to reflect and measure the new found relief against the embarrassing new level of regard the local element of my fell motorist hold for me. Fortunately those days were prior to the now ubiquitous video and camera phones. </div>
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<div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
This approach, however, did once have a ancillary benefit. It was a dark and stormy night. I was trying to get home in rush hour traffic and snow in a high mileage vehicle that had developed a new noise. The noise, on reflection, was isolated to either a bad wheel bearing or something gone wrong with a wheel brake. When I exited the vehicle I selected the most suspect wheel to huddle over. Sure enough, most of my excretion was turned to steam on contact with the wheel. The bearing was so far gone it was making things very hot. I believed I helped cool things a bit. </div>
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That evening I had passengers on board because:</div>
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a) the snow storm was bad enough they left their cars at work to catch a ride in my 4X4 Bronco. </div>
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b) They were celebrating the approaching holidays with adult beverages prior to the trip. </div>
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c) their homes were on the way to my home. </div>
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We all found the episode to be a source of humorous diversion largely due to item b. </div>
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Guess I'll have to start saving Ragu jars :)<br />
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*<br />
<table id="entries" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 5px; width: 475px;"><tbody>
<tr style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"><td class="word" style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">Uromysitisis</td><td class="tools" id="tools_2769992" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; text-align: right; vertical-align: top; white-space: nowrap;"><b><br /></b><span class="thumbs"><a class="thumbs_up" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=uromysitisis#" id="thumbs_up_2769992" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://static2.urbandictionary.com/images/embed/thumbsup.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: #0e426c; display: block; float: right; height: 19px; margin-left: 4px; width: 19px;"></a></span></td></tr>
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A mythical medical condition employed to explain to law enforcement officers as to why you were urinating in public.</div>
<div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;">
"If I don't go when I feel like I have to...I could get Uromysitisis and die!" -- Seinfeld (The Parking Garage), paraphrased</div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-7254133794419830642012-11-15T08:10:00.002-08:002012-11-15T18:00:19.638-08:003 down, 27 to go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMEBOwXrpmMHl82W4sWPY8m7QF3xBioK2OYOEBoOK8W48wHz1bd9fIDFPLR7v4uVS5lvEoncEqF0VNuHFJbNr_YovOHqS3M0zVGv93j9YxhkwjqhULWHxpHXJilw49TgHty8fhQ1m2RI0/s1600/IMG_2754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMEBOwXrpmMHl82W4sWPY8m7QF3xBioK2OYOEBoOK8W48wHz1bd9fIDFPLR7v4uVS5lvEoncEqF0VNuHFJbNr_YovOHqS3M0zVGv93j9YxhkwjqhULWHxpHXJilw49TgHty8fhQ1m2RI0/s640/IMG_2754.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPI2GqmlkCCd5NPATaI7YNkTy4BXdLLAwJZNXkgEAiLm8mjhHXRsVrkVR5JzWtK-iZkk0EbUruIE8P_rm8WhiQS016vi_TYFN3FDDacVG2YHfzm2axSfxp5QubFmTAi7LUj11l3LPfL0/s1600/IMG_2755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPI2GqmlkCCd5NPATaI7YNkTy4BXdLLAwJZNXkgEAiLm8mjhHXRsVrkVR5JzWtK-iZkk0EbUruIE8P_rm8WhiQS016vi_TYFN3FDDacVG2YHfzm2axSfxp5QubFmTAi7LUj11l3LPfL0/s320/IMG_2755.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>There's my Mask, waiting for me.</i></td></tr>
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Here's the Linac machine (a.k.a. The Zapper) that kills cancer cells ~ and many other cells ~ in daily five minute increments.<br />
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The Techs are awesome, supportive & fun. They spend their working hours down deep in the bowels of the <a href="http://www.pennmedicine.org/perelman/">Perelman</a> Center building. N'er does a ray of sun ever reach its beige colored depths, but the people who work there are mighty sunny :) I've been thinking of funny things to do to the techs...<br />
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• Use an eyeliner pencil and make a whole bunch of dotted "tattoos" around my real one.<br />
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• Tape "Help Me" on the soles of my shoes, ala Catholic Wedding High-jinx Style.<br />
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• Point to the person next to me when my name is called (already did this & it got some smiles).<br />
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<h3>
<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">How does radiation feel? </span></b></i></h3>
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If The Zapper didn't make noises, I wouldn't know anything was happening. </div>
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Here's what happens when I go for treatment...</div>
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My name is called in the large reception area, and I go back into the spa-like changing area & don my choice of two designer johnnies ~ one ties in back, the other worn like a robe. I get to keep my clothes on from the waist down, plus my shoes. I wait a few minutes in a smaller waiting room. Usually there are a few other people there and I wonder what battles they are fighting. </div>
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Next, when my name is called, I go down the hall to one of the five Linac machines housed in rooms of thick walls & huge heavy doors (I'm guessing the door is about 4" thick). I take off my outer robe, lie down on the slab, grip each handle at my sides and wait as the two techs bolt my mask down to the table & move me about slightly to line up the laser beam with my tattoo. The techs leave the room, shutting that honkin' big door behind them. They reassure me if I have any problems, just raise my hand, as they are watching me every second through a camera or a window. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOqXG3GNn2SXTpQzXlfS3D9q8m015rNP6-SW59wq2V8Pf1YE_3sbLuS-5Xihv8bLAyHUSm1Zv0faT-JEhXdusOXaLA4nk3BZEIVY2W86_Nplb8wt8uHcEIfLvTStcQuqh5k133ARj4bU/s1600/IMG_2772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOqXG3GNn2SXTpQzXlfS3D9q8m015rNP6-SW59wq2V8Pf1YE_3sbLuS-5Xihv8bLAyHUSm1Zv0faT-JEhXdusOXaLA4nk3BZEIVY2W86_Nplb8wt8uHcEIfLvTStcQuqh5k133ARj4bU/s320/IMG_2772.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Got me both ways :(<br />As long as I'm not late for my appointment <br />or do not have to pee, I'm okay with it!</i></td></tr>
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My eyes are closed due to the mask, and I start mentally singing my "99 Bottles of Beer" song as The Zapper begins to make assorted humming & adjusting noises. The table I am lying on moves slightly forward and back until I am lined up. Various ranges of humming noises and bright lights start happening which I can see through my closed eyelids. There is a noise towards the end that has a higher-sounding more intense buzz than the other noises & I'm thinking that's when my radiation is being delivered. The first time, I thought I felt all the cells in my neck sit up and say <b><i>"Wot the Hell?"</i></b> and I haven't had that feeling again since. This treatment takes about 5 minutes. I get to about "72 Bottles" before I hear the door open. I get off the table, go change & am on my way home. Yesterday, since my appointment was at 8am, I got to go through rush hour both coming & going... w00t.</div>
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<h3>
<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">How do you feel after treatment? </span></b></i></h3>
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So many people have told me I will be tired that I think I am self-fulfilling that, whether I am really tired or not. I could be catching Craig's cold, or it could be PMS lurking, but I spent most of yesterday snoozing on the couch with occasional guilty bouts of light housework. I can't believe that I would feel any effects after only three zaps, but my incision site on my neck feels a bit tight & sun-burn-y. My tongue feels a little thicker. Dr. Ahn prescribed this for me for further down the treatment road when my throat & mouth are sore: </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5B91KONKVHlduxWe-B2xgDP0ua9bUtsMOYRaRJW5gSzSJZXDK9FFLAHuA6mKk9_2wTxcoR2DDkZvl-Y1iM7sSIRJRufxHb9sHRdOImtV0YBW1Twp8MX00jn-bJCWTO7fybgEBhndFw9U/s1600/IMG_2774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5B91KONKVHlduxWe-B2xgDP0ua9bUtsMOYRaRJW5gSzSJZXDK9FFLAHuA6mKk9_2wTxcoR2DDkZvl-Y1iM7sSIRJRufxHb9sHRdOImtV0YBW1Twp8MX00jn-bJCWTO7fybgEBhndFw9U/s320/IMG_2774.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Magic Mouthwash #18" ~ I ain't kiddin'!</i></td></tr>
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It's the first indication of humor I've ever seen on a medicine:)</div>
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I'm told that since The Zapper is indiscriminate on what cells it destroys, the best way for me to build up my good cells is by consuming lots of water & protein. I have to time the "water" part just so. I'm sure I'll have some "GOTTA PEE" moments on the Schykyilllksdjfkjas;lfjsdf Expressway. </div>
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Maybe by the end of my treatment, I'll learn how to spell "Schuylkill" :)</div>
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-74485715826341307962012-11-11T05:42:00.001-08:002012-11-11T07:50:46.419-08:00Dry RunFriday was Dry Run Day to finalize position & area to be radiated on my neck. (Yes, I bought a bag of donuts for the techs.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis98PgLBXlRzfpMUznc1ZQo9VChUAJuqWqy4XzwujyM6pNf8SMI2fYV0L2de8LsQiS4CFF3j6ynj4QxobisPz0aI05nQX5Q15qj6MjuG7J3PNaGM_nPKMXKWKpy8m_BWEUodmqhOPko0I/s1600/IMG_2734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis98PgLBXlRzfpMUznc1ZQo9VChUAJuqWqy4XzwujyM6pNf8SMI2fYV0L2de8LsQiS4CFF3j6ynj4QxobisPz0aI05nQX5Q15qj6MjuG7J3PNaGM_nPKMXKWKpy8m_BWEUodmqhOPko0I/s320/IMG_2734.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>What to wear, what to wear...</i></td></tr>
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I was led from the large reception area to a spa-like setting with ambient lighting, soft colors on the walls and carpeting on the floor. There were several large changing rooms and instead of big fluffy spa robes, there was a large selection of hospital johnnies to choose from. This solves my personal issue of coming up with 30 different fashion looks for the duration of my treatment. Here's my choice for Friday:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBxc9ve58Zrbyz1VxQkCyDc0FIzB7H3V8wx6o3EnJmDEgCRVYSuZ-oB4SiKI1BTh9zpXGqyGIDOGH2EDZfl7QiTWGtxtqXJS-b26xyhJCuP_fQo3FG3YVU16CleVOSGxWZkprMf5ytFY/s1600/IMG_2732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBxc9ve58Zrbyz1VxQkCyDc0FIzB7H3V8wx6o3EnJmDEgCRVYSuZ-oB4SiKI1BTh9zpXGqyGIDOGH2EDZfl7QiTWGtxtqXJS-b26xyhJCuP_fQo3FG3YVU16CleVOSGxWZkprMf5ytFY/s320/IMG_2732.JPG" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Feelin' groovy</i></td></tr>
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From there, I was led into a room where I was to have a few more x-rays taken and final adjustments made to my mask. I met two more lovely people, Danielle & Erin, who bolted me down to the table & put my mask on. Pictures were taken as I sang my brother Bill's song suggestion in my head: "99 Bottles of Beer On The Wall". I got to 46 bottles of beer by the time I was done. Danielle assured me that actual treatment would take less time.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRF5qDPTt1b__47T7GDs5vEIKpZn-jG5ZmT2kLYJ0TfPG48M28gGxRDoOZajkH4DoMztg4JpAEwUOR8xHCmO4Ba-P6Wx2Chu3VvyLB5mjPrjCn01Wh5c9_arKetcqRfXH2Q7zaajUddk/s1600/IMG_2735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRF5qDPTt1b__47T7GDs5vEIKpZn-jG5ZmT2kLYJ0TfPG48M28gGxRDoOZajkH4DoMztg4JpAEwUOR8xHCmO4Ba-P6Wx2Chu3VvyLB5mjPrjCn01Wh5c9_arKetcqRfXH2Q7zaajUddk/s320/IMG_2735.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Danielle & Mask</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-xM4uhCTHkqolh2yTtHhk7dPJ1_IfAlLAOc4XSEsiPns2q4m8W_V5_iZWnWIBEzBxT06jUOBt2PxkcQ8pNlJ4wJ4HpCDQGCg4yMAqDGGn_Oh3kVr9_wKVdptLuq7wJg8pHjhTQT8B-A/s1600/IMG_2736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-xM4uhCTHkqolh2yTtHhk7dPJ1_IfAlLAOc4XSEsiPns2q4m8W_V5_iZWnWIBEzBxT06jUOBt2PxkcQ8pNlJ4wJ4HpCDQGCg4yMAqDGGn_Oh3kVr9_wKVdptLuq7wJg8pHjhTQT8B-A/s320/IMG_2736.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Erin</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
As the techs were adjusting my masked self on the table, they were telling me what they were doing. It was mentally painful for me to not be able to speak, as I had the mask mouthpiece in my mouth. There's only so many inflections you can put into a muffled "ummmm-hummm", and certainly no witty quips, which this situation just cries out for.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I was all done and leaving the spa environment for the big waiting room, I heard the Bell being rung. There is a silver ship's bell in the room & when patients finish their last treatment, they step up and ring the bell. A huge burst of applause & cheers greet this happy peal. Today's bell ringer was a boy of about 9 years old. A large group of his family was gathered around wreathed in smiles & tears as pictures of them with the smiling young boy were taken. It was very moving. His Mom was holding a shopping bag with the boy's mask in it.</div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhioVObMpCivsfbPAx7yuhA8xc3obBcco62mALbrrZQxRA2vYKZwJgLQ6HN-E9IPw3-l7Tudkt1uNOKpN1tyqnueD9VmywVUoqNVNq76i7-JAz1a3Ij1iD9UhxVPFiggxlIlKVU60YLW_U/s1600/IMG_2621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhioVObMpCivsfbPAx7yuhA8xc3obBcco62mALbrrZQxRA2vYKZwJgLQ6HN-E9IPw3-l7Tudkt1uNOKpN1tyqnueD9VmywVUoqNVNq76i7-JAz1a3Ij1iD9UhxVPFiggxlIlKVU60YLW_U/s400/IMG_2621.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Last Treatment Bell</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
So, Monday I start my own journey towards the bell.</div>
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-13081754700920391912012-11-07T14:43:00.000-08:002012-11-07T14:43:03.673-08:00en Garde!<i>I am still learning that I never know which way the road will twist. </i><br />
<br />
On Monday I got a call asking me to come down to HUP Wednesday (today) and have an ultrasound & a needle biopsy of a lymph node on the <b><i>right</i></b> side of my neck. (All the partying was recently done on the left side.) Dr. Ahn saw something on my most recent CT scan which he wanted a closer look at, since it could change the radiation treatment.<br />
<br />
I had a whole day to stew about it & clean out another drawer or two.<br />
<br />
I decided I could handle another neck dissection, but if I needed another TORS operation that required a breathing tube, I may just walk out in the woods somewhere, pick a nice place to sit and start singing my Death Song, just like those old Native American women.<br />
<br />
I thought about a few friends of mine who have had needle biopsies of their breast tissues & how painful they said they were. Sitting between these two girlfriends who have had breast biopsies was like sitting between two women comparing painful birthing stories :)<br />
<br />
So, you see, I was fully primed & jumpy when I was lead into the small examining room and asked to lay on the table. The ectoplasm-like stuff that I remember from pregnancy ultrasound days was applied and the right side of my neck was carefully ultrasounded. Pictures were taken & examined. Drs. Jones & Patel figured out where they wanted to go in for the samples. First they sprayed my neck with numbing spray and then I was given a needle of novocain, which felt like ~ all together now ~ "<i>a leeeettle pinch</i>". Then, with Dr. Jones, the experienced doctor looking on, Dr. Patel (the learning doc) proceeded to take biopsies with another needle. When I heard her (Dr. Jones) asking Dr. Patel to "<i>try to move the tip blah-blah-blah...." </i> (medical talk), I had to pipe in with Yoda's saying:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Do or Do not. </span></b></i><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">There is no try.</span></b></i></blockquote>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Rf6tSj3Y4x_OuwDzbI5xINvmOGPjfzHoqDRNhrWuF7OsUeHPrbLaXPTowDcK63W7eoS8vAcfoBP7ZF7Lhlz9ZXhldAMOBIBQoIOWDF8OVHWvx8gBFyd4z1astFOESA9u6LHO-XydhIY/s1600/yoda.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Rf6tSj3Y4x_OuwDzbI5xINvmOGPjfzHoqDRNhrWuF7OsUeHPrbLaXPTowDcK63W7eoS8vAcfoBP7ZF7Lhlz9ZXhldAMOBIBQoIOWDF8OVHWvx8gBFyd4z1astFOESA9u6LHO-XydhIY/s400/yoda.gif" width="346" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Do or Do not.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It didn't take long and my one foot only lifted off the table slightly at one point ~ more in anticipation of pain than actual pain! So for all of you who are stewing about a needle biopsy ~ STOP right now, because it doesn't hurt. At least the type & area that mine was done did not hurt. Sure don't want to try one in the boob though.<br />
<br />
Also, the samples were looked at directly & I was told <i>without delay</i> that there was no cancer in that lymph node ~ just normal lymph node-y stuff.<br />
<br />
I was given a Instant Ice Bag thingie & instructional discharge papers which as far as I know are still sitting by the table. I was so relieved to hear that one side of my neck was still behaving that I gushed my thanks and was back on the Schulkill Expressway in two shakes of a lambs tail.<br />
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My neck is just peachy & here's a picture to prove it. Just a wee tiny red spot. Bet you can't even see it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfNyuv9cfY_SgChzIh84DqMxC5VQK4dlbI3rFDvk2pSTjM8ALadTd0_O3NVqyb8CVi65dgPZc0rvD5Z0JxmU91zpLizMb0aERK_I25Lzy045g-jLLO2q3OpX_4G9Q9XmGuVm5hSe7w0I/s1600/IMG_2674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfNyuv9cfY_SgChzIh84DqMxC5VQK4dlbI3rFDvk2pSTjM8ALadTd0_O3NVqyb8CVi65dgPZc0rvD5Z0JxmU91zpLizMb0aERK_I25Lzy045g-jLLO2q3OpX_4G9Q9XmGuVm5hSe7w0I/s400/IMG_2674.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Now I can look forward to celebrating Phil's 17th Birthday dinner at the <a href="http://www.blacklabbistro.net/index.html">Black Lab Bistro</a> in Phoenixville with Doris & Phil (Gran'ma & Gran'pa)!<br />
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<i>Knock on wood.</i><br />
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Test run for radiation starts this Friday. I'll report back here with pictures :)Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-45669763687041670142012-11-02T15:50:00.002-07:002012-11-02T15:50:58.776-07:00Kicking Some Cancer Butt<br />
I went for my post-op, one month out after the TORS operation and was oooo'd & ahhhh'd over about how well the surgeries were healing. Dr. O'Malley was pleased. Of course, I was wearing my Kick Cancer's Butt Boots and bearing another catering tray of <a href="http://www.icehousedelivers.com/new/breakfast">Ice House donuts</a> ~ what could go wrong?<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvh7D56c4OqiOsH9R4vW5NcPFJ2h5cHxNNkkD00s04_QCSmI7VLIrYTCKWWMKOXxEGaFjXGt2lakHQ3zirKOjT2DQcUBqAWzENHik4pnulLjSV_MlMDODdwZXmsOciizacpKvojkbCBw/s1600/IMG_2656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvh7D56c4OqiOsH9R4vW5NcPFJ2h5cHxNNkkD00s04_QCSmI7VLIrYTCKWWMKOXxEGaFjXGt2lakHQ3zirKOjT2DQcUBqAWzENHik4pnulLjSV_MlMDODdwZXmsOciizacpKvojkbCBw/s400/IMG_2656.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Kick-Butt Boots</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I still have an ever decreasing area of numbness around my left ear & left side of tongue, but I am eating & talking ~ nay, even yelling at times ~ almost at my pre-surgery range. I am also delighted to find I am able to issue my ear-piercing unlady-like whistle at practically the same startling volume as my old self. Surely God is Good:) My sleeping is much improved. After the surgery, I used to sleep sitting up in bed ~ awkward ~ and only for exactly 1 1/2 hours at a time until my dry mouth woke me up. Now I sleep up to five hours straight.<br />
<br />
Because I elected to go for the <a href="http://www.pennmedicine.org/ent/services/TransOral-robotic-surgery/index.html">TransOral robotic surgery</a> (TORS), the healing time was much shorter & the radiation level does not have to be as high as if I were to have undergone traditional surgery. The traditional surgery for this type of cancer is very rough because of how deep in the throat the cancer is located. Bones would have to be broken, extensive cutting & scarring... a possible <a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/002955.htm">tracheostomy</a> while healing took place. It would have been a hard, painful road to travel & my hat is off to those who have gone that route. :'(<br />
<br />
I'm grateful for the sheer luck of being located near Drs. O'Malley & Weinstein & the amazing staff at HUP.<br />
<br />
Next up, a "practice run" on the radiation gig on November 9th, then the real thing on the 12th. I'm thinking I should bring donuts.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-37326538269594402312012-10-26T14:35:00.000-07:002012-10-26T15:24:23.629-07:00And now a word from my brother Bill...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUF9teY_Cfbgz5pF9s_kX2UBzLCkIxXAHS-ERmLPSYXCfp47Hx5a3evuUroQPVXWXGijhPCcb5BanHshatI3sYgGl55CnVhUDCSIye-kkfegK-XL5fY6kVMmQn8yDSA0HJq480en7tZ4/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUF9teY_Cfbgz5pF9s_kX2UBzLCkIxXAHS-ERmLPSYXCfp47Hx5a3evuUroQPVXWXGijhPCcb5BanHshatI3sYgGl55CnVhUDCSIye-kkfegK-XL5fY6kVMmQn8yDSA0HJq480en7tZ4/s400/IMG_2565.JPG" width="400" /></a>My brother Bill sent me the following email after reading my last post. I snorted coffee through my nose (which is really easy for me to do now) while reading it. Hope you enjoy it too. Bill is the brother that looks like this guy on the TV Series, "Abandoned":</div>
<br />
Anyway, here's what he wrote me...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
Jeeper, what a drill! And the SureKill Expy. to boot. You really must have pissed off someone important. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Allow gobs of time for the SKE in the rain. And The Lord have mercy on you if it snows or sleets. I have spent hours on that 13 miles of what we so euphemistically call highway, with enough youthful impatience to frequently add to the misery of my fellow motorist. I should have had vanity plates, "dkhd@large". </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suggestions for whiling away the coffin time. Try tunes that inextricably bolt themselves in your cerebral cortex like: "99 bottles" etc...., or that one that goes,"have a holly jolly Christmas...." , or perhaps,"Jesus Loves Me". </div>
<div>
Further time wasting opportunities include but are not limited to making up new lyrics to familiar tunes. </div>
<div>
While bailing boxes for FedEx I have come up with verses describing my job there to the tune of "Fat Bottom Girls" (one of Freddie Mercury's best rip your face off blues/rock tunes). The sad consequence being whenever I now hear that song I think of package handling. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am empathic about the plumping dye. Took some stuff laced with Barium (!) once in an effort to revel my plumbing to the experts when I showed up at the Phoenixville hospital whining about kidney stone(s). Then had to stand in back of a brobdingnagian Etch-a-sketch while the decision makers peered into the front of it. The best description I can come up with for that experience was a spreading feeling of warmth, tinged with growing apprehension and a special kind of personal alarm. I suppose if that feeling were to unfold while walking one of the Sedona's Vortex trails, it would have been deemed a blessing or at least a positive experience. But the clinical environs of the E-room in conjunction with my growing unremitting dull pain forced subscription to a negative & apprehensive frame of mind. Moreover, in spite of professional medical prognostication, I did not feel completely normal when exiting the building. This due in no small part to the alarming experience of urination the Barium overboard before my release. Nothing quite like that has happened before or since. </div>
<div>
The hospital visit exacted manifold repercussions with a net result. I will suffer more pain than that what drove me there then, before going there again. I suspect that sort of thinking is an intended result foisted on hapless denizens by the front line authorities. </div>
<div>
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<div>
Let me know if I can help with transportation needs. I get off work around 9:30 AM weekdays. And can cut out at 8:30 AM if needed. </div>
<div>
.....bill</div>
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-23004698483597845112012-10-24T17:03:00.000-07:002012-10-24T17:03:19.159-07:00Susan gets a tat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Yup. I got a tattoo today. It's to help line me up on the slab so the radiation will go where it's supposed to go. Here's a couple of pictures:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLF2DRA3Jn8FX-2gG81g4myY4bwb80FWAfBfQcsHXJZ4xaB8I7tijgGXPYnstv5V3sWskfNr_9E-hv_aKWxWe2K5DB5eSOgcoXKtkm3pxJ_v4cb6HIGShzRB2yVlx09nDEiEJ__Uge5Aw/s1600/IMG_2623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLF2DRA3Jn8FX-2gG81g4myY4bwb80FWAfBfQcsHXJZ4xaB8I7tijgGXPYnstv5V3sWskfNr_9E-hv_aKWxWe2K5DB5eSOgcoXKtkm3pxJ_v4cb6HIGShzRB2yVlx09nDEiEJ__Uge5Aw/s640/IMG_2623.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>See that lil' dot?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's what it looks like way up close:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuXC73n3rUJCeDUSnfbS-xqrxoZ2OBUKp4D2JMKccvCDI9XBI1ruUEmpQ0lNgCuVg35RGN9SwJYfvtrbmJPeDkociXQW2sWYDCqlju9IA5GqEPD1nrkIRVvX9E8iCX9bj7424MqYCwfs/s1600/Hello-Kitty-tattoo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuXC73n3rUJCeDUSnfbS-xqrxoZ2OBUKp4D2JMKccvCDI9XBI1ruUEmpQ0lNgCuVg35RGN9SwJYfvtrbmJPeDkociXQW2sWYDCqlju9IA5GqEPD1nrkIRVvX9E8iCX9bj7424MqYCwfs/s320/Hello-Kitty-tattoo.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hello Kitty!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Today's visit was to make a mask & to take a CT Scan, with contrast, which is iodine injected into the blood stream. You are warned that your genital area will heat up and many people fear they are wetting their pants :) Been there, done that, checked myself. I feel like an Old Hand at some of this stuff. Once again, my juicy veins were oooo'd and ahhhh'd over by the lovely Nurse Pat. Then she stuck me.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSmhbtBCf4brlbfdgd51dQCg9D1wqNnQPZdkATp9icYJekncrQ6Hn5zkCYFsuPlYMtHnamrZh6hRrv7vu-ShLjw4e_r9vLe30fVKoAovoRARBjmi3BritEEGBvzJjEYTM9BfiYOueSnY/s1600/IMG_2608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSmhbtBCf4brlbfdgd51dQCg9D1wqNnQPZdkATp9icYJekncrQ6Hn5zkCYFsuPlYMtHnamrZh6hRrv7vu-ShLjw4e_r9vLe30fVKoAovoRARBjmi3BritEEGBvzJjEYTM9BfiYOueSnY/s320/IMG_2608.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Just a <b>leeettle</b> pinch now..." they all say.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
Next, The Mask. Before the scan, the two nice techs had me lay on the slab that moves in and out of the CT scanner and proceeded to nudge and move me around until I was lying <i><b>Just. So</b></i>. They bolted down my shoulders (that's what it seemed like ~ accuracy is obviously very important) and started putting a white gauze shroud around my hairline, covering my hair. I asked them how I would look as a nun and started singing the first line of "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria" from the movie, <b><i>The Sound of Music</i></b>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Next, The Mask. It starts out looking like this:</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6LOpD2tTD621wGOStFXNF0ziu9qcllUBEEiPdg8gWHbJ6An2u1j6KIlS-EhtfAUClmqhwEAk-zAm2wMAVVOoynxzHhNPKy-lBgSr90vES1-HRXb2x9pfBsaiK3SZNUAq_2mwSNs2vH8/s1600/IMG_2614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6LOpD2tTD621wGOStFXNF0ziu9qcllUBEEiPdg8gWHbJ6An2u1j6KIlS-EhtfAUClmqhwEAk-zAm2wMAVVOoynxzHhNPKy-lBgSr90vES1-HRXb2x9pfBsaiK3SZNUAq_2mwSNs2vH8/s640/IMG_2614.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mask</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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It feels like it's made out of the cloth similar to the disposable <i>Olay</i> face cloths I use to remove make-up. It is wetted with warm water then put on my face & quickly molded to my lovely contours. The edges then feel like they are somehow bolted to the slab, and there you are... Trapped and trying not to feel claustrophobic & wanting to be a Good Sport and Model Patient for all these nice people who are just trying help me, for cryin' out loud :) </div>
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A Song! A Song! I desperately cast about in my head: I have to have a song to sing in my mind <b><i>or </i></b><i><b>I will rip this thing off my face and leap up off this table.</b></i> Of course, the only song I could think of was "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria" from the movie, <b><i>The Sound of Music</i></b>. Next, I trotted out the catchy: "Doe, A Deer, A Female Deer" from the same movie, picturing those mischievous Von Trappe children hanging from the roadside trees all dressed in their homemade drapery clothes. I sang these two songs over & over in my head for three hours while moving in & out of the scanner. Okay, it was probably more like 15-20 minutes. </div>
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<i>"IGNORE THE PHANTOM ITCH ON YOUR NOSE, Susan. No, you do NOT have to cough. HOLD STILL!" </i>These stern Susan admonishments were interspaced between the verses I sang in my head. </div>
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It wasn't bad. It's Mind Over Matter, fighting down the claustrophobic issues. Here's some cool pictures of The Mask. I get to keep it when I am done treatment, although one tech told me most people never want to see it again. I'm thinking some kind of artwork...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa0ikOGmJcwcoLr1c_HQvVX3qPdFkRhLNW02hYHW-XMLyrm5MggQrzN_m1W14ElEZtvDdQadyPJ36pfYPl3Zs09f1dW7kKqKErhvY-YiHex9m8e9gezPfpmf7cxDnkCWoI4SKnok45G0/s1600/IMG_2618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa0ikOGmJcwcoLr1c_HQvVX3qPdFkRhLNW02hYHW-XMLyrm5MggQrzN_m1W14ElEZtvDdQadyPJ36pfYPl3Zs09f1dW7kKqKErhvY-YiHex9m8e9gezPfpmf7cxDnkCWoI4SKnok45G0/s640/IMG_2618.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cool, huh? Damn, my eyebrows look great.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXeapjcQT9Pku0f9XTwAz9pYI4fxK7fxQzTyGLxBx1TmdtRuIa7NogPg1wuB3EdRlKtt1EqqpJA0DJ1K_R3DAqyo8ewMOIDI2T7L3OBSgLtxSHTx714J3Dj4j_Ol18aIBALjyVczsgI0/s1600/IMG_2620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXeapjcQT9Pku0f9XTwAz9pYI4fxK7fxQzTyGLxBx1TmdtRuIa7NogPg1wuB3EdRlKtt1EqqpJA0DJ1K_R3DAqyo8ewMOIDI2T7L3OBSgLtxSHTx714J3Dj4j_Ol18aIBALjyVczsgI0/s400/IMG_2620.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Here's the slab, er, CT Scanner</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrzoiet3obzviavsqQ0iIovqWDMcOJSDF5CTqOvWFxC_0mXYCNZQgKk-OvOnTzBIq5Z45g0CljEbMozub7X0LytKbGqvhzyUiUZaRxprQidDKIc_jZWZgLQt9hx7HaNC0LefdSyUrlYSg/s1600/IMG_2619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrzoiet3obzviavsqQ0iIovqWDMcOJSDF5CTqOvWFxC_0mXYCNZQgKk-OvOnTzBIq5Z45g0CljEbMozub7X0LytKbGqvhzyUiUZaRxprQidDKIc_jZWZgLQt9hx7HaNC0LefdSyUrlYSg/s400/IMG_2619.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My Hannibal Lechter impression. Can you understand the claustrophobic feeling?</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaQ_1WovSOwoZ9u2wORdMz1nElMT5Xrphbz280wuJvEIcvQhlxXogIMCInMyWIPYvpeealxtYv92B-4P5vFtJMenBQS0PSVXtYTkx3G5ITT6BmwY_gDC_TwKGLwfygTd3Gp7YZJnwBVs/s1600/IMG_2617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaQ_1WovSOwoZ9u2wORdMz1nElMT5Xrphbz280wuJvEIcvQhlxXogIMCInMyWIPYvpeealxtYv92B-4P5vFtJMenBQS0PSVXtYTkx3G5ITT6BmwY_gDC_TwKGLwfygTd3Gp7YZJnwBVs/s400/IMG_2617.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This is Dr. Peter Ahn, another "Top Doc" in my book.</i></td></tr>
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After all the scans were done, I went to see Gina, The Scheduler for the radiation appointments. I start on November the 9th with a "dry run", where they sit me down and arrange me for the actual radiation machine. Then the treatments will begin on the following Monday and continue for five days a week for six weeks. Thanksgiving & Black Friday OFF :)<br /><div>
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I asked several of the tech's how long they thought I would be able to drive myself and they said between three & four weeks, so <i><b>hopefully,</b></i> I will only need two weeks of rides. Which I hate to ask for. Just ask my friend, Jill, who has been hovering over me like a mother hen, bless her heart. I hate asking for help. </div>
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Hate, hate, hate. </div>
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If you want a thrill-filled ride on the Schuylkill Expressway with a cranky patient, please leave a comment below or email me & I will email you Jill's email: she is scheduling rides, damn it. I'm trying to get scheduled for 11:00-11:30am slots, but Gina told me the schedule can change. She says to allow an hour for the treatment, although the actual radiation only takes about five minutes. Craig & I have dubbed it "Penn Time", as Penn's time is different from ordinary time, just sayin'. I have clocked the rides at about an hour each way, knocking on wood for bad weather & over-turned semi trucks scattering who knows what on the road. </div>
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There! I've really talked it up, huh?</div>
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Next, a post-post op with Dr. O'Malley on the 30th. What food item should I bring in for them?</div>
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-69498316150982076352012-10-11T08:06:00.002-07:002012-10-11T08:06:22.977-07:00another bite of elephantYesterday was my appointment with the Penn Medicine dentist, "Dr. E". (Go ahead, <i>you</i> try saying Dr. Elizabeth Evtimovska.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bFsxXHiW6PYA40E4RYSVKtcFhHZlpLN1hs0rhgoixPwl6LmVPg8VFcLmPBUZBwgZj7LYichEK_rdXkwFLkK9CDv19Hj99yJuzQxHjx8fp1_RQkJ_4J-N7ty6Y1PzS5KeCmHpbJBk2P0/s1600/chopper-hopper.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bFsxXHiW6PYA40E4RYSVKtcFhHZlpLN1hs0rhgoixPwl6LmVPg8VFcLmPBUZBwgZj7LYichEK_rdXkwFLkK9CDv19Hj99yJuzQxHjx8fp1_RQkJ_4J-N7ty6Y1PzS5KeCmHpbJBk2P0/s400/chopper-hopper.gif" width="366" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Chopper Hopper. One piece of vintage I DON'T want.</i></td></tr>
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I inherited many wonderful things from my Mom ~ alas, her soft teeth gene came bundled with them. Those of you who know me well, know the dental delights I have gone through with my teeth over the years. Implants, bridges, bone grafts ~ from cadavers!, flippers, sinus lifts; many surgeries & procedures to make the smile that I have today. Kudos to my awesome dentist, Dr. Ann McHale, & her staff of Anns (and one Linda) who worry and fret over my teeth just as much & maybe more than I do. Thus, I was nervous to the point of tears about this appointment. Excellent Worrier that I am, I <i>just knew</i> I was going to be scheduled to have all my teeth pulled.<br />
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Dr. E took one of those cool panoramic x-rays that shows the whole mouth, poked around in my mouth, took one more x-ray of another war horse of a molar of mine and said... I was good to go. I melted in the chair ~ as if all my bones had suddenly disappeared ~ at this news. And, yes, I cried yet again while pitifully grasping the Doctor's hand and thanking her. I would have bowed & scraped to her if my bones had not just left my body.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">And yet another swallow of elephant...</span></i></span><br />
I drove myself to & fro my appointment. It wasn't horrible. Under an hour going in and a tad over an hour coming home. O may it continue!<br />
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Check out these hand-made cards Stacie Olsen made for me ~ how delightful! Hand-embossed, all kinds of embellishments; they are lovely. If you don't receive one, it's not because I have deemed you Unworthy, it's because I used 'em up already.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhh4fe5w0HyRapW86HO8DkCwOfWYyhUGe9NKy89n-EzMh72xPG1tOS4ZQsJc3x72tlGc4zagZBA61q5c12-a5O3P7HiRdwkupgvKFmG8t56Iq3GEdefDKhHttpD-aS_9Mdy1Q2dwS6oOU/s1600/IMG_2566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhh4fe5w0HyRapW86HO8DkCwOfWYyhUGe9NKy89n-EzMh72xPG1tOS4ZQsJc3x72tlGc4zagZBA61q5c12-a5O3P7HiRdwkupgvKFmG8t56Iq3GEdefDKhHttpD-aS_9Mdy1Q2dwS6oOU/s640/IMG_2566.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hand-made & lovely designs. Would it be redundant of me to say "Thank You", Stacie?</i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSM8rSLP1EYe4SP5BfgIamZR8qZMj6kvGzDfDyjyWwjTKeBrsWQs0WQRbv7LxvrkY9va3NI1wRdtS4IN3wXEmNAfEPMtd0FPbAkuYVlAfuxtyUCI1qBOb3xOTkZijC6OHWd8oyavxcWuE/s1600/IMG_2568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSM8rSLP1EYe4SP5BfgIamZR8qZMj6kvGzDfDyjyWwjTKeBrsWQs0WQRbv7LxvrkY9va3NI1wRdtS4IN3wXEmNAfEPMtd0FPbAkuYVlAfuxtyUCI1qBOb3xOTkZijC6OHWd8oyavxcWuE/s200/IMG_2568.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP54U2d40G5COP24cexl0dSyprHTx08o-gIB53t7JKm5eaJbrvU4HtBoeStQn5qhw80irS0HgmR9AvMjSiEuakVLjYRb9sA2nSJfAzgyssPwpZnhtJ7QPT3wtToLNHiH5Fq60oSsuRXlI/s1600/IMG_2569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP54U2d40G5COP24cexl0dSyprHTx08o-gIB53t7JKm5eaJbrvU4HtBoeStQn5qhw80irS0HgmR9AvMjSiEuakVLjYRb9sA2nSJfAzgyssPwpZnhtJ7QPT3wtToLNHiH5Fq60oSsuRXlI/s320/IMG_2569.jpg" width="320" /></a>These are definitely TNTTO (Too Nice To Throw Out) after receiving. I only hope I have worthy words of thanks to write in them!<br />
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And here's a completely unrelated picture of a guy on a TV show called "Abandoned" who looks exactly like my brother Bill:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUF9teY_Cfbgz5pF9s_kX2UBzLCkIxXAHS-ERmLPSYXCfp47Hx5a3evuUroQPVXWXGijhPCcb5BanHshatI3sYgGl55CnVhUDCSIye-kkfegK-XL5fY6kVMmQn8yDSA0HJq480en7tZ4/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUF9teY_Cfbgz5pF9s_kX2UBzLCkIxXAHS-ERmLPSYXCfp47Hx5a3evuUroQPVXWXGijhPCcb5BanHshatI3sYgGl55CnVhUDCSIye-kkfegK-XL5fY6kVMmQn8yDSA0HJq480en7tZ4/s320/IMG_2565.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This is what my brother looks like.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzrwLrc7jrY-6uDnaDu00eYM19V73dH6rke5zhwHQCvIlrFhS0u4I5BlIMFsFofhyphenhyphenK8LxGAGZRjJQdayu9ikPZMGBDkVZYDlowUBmp-KQ17lVfKSgOCuosX5456I3WpVTVawVL-wNZLo/s1600/IMG_2571.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzrwLrc7jrY-6uDnaDu00eYM19V73dH6rke5zhwHQCvIlrFhS0u4I5BlIMFsFofhyphenhyphenK8LxGAGZRjJQdayu9ikPZMGBDkVZYDlowUBmp-KQ17lVfKSgOCuosX5456I3WpVTVawVL-wNZLo/s200/IMG_2571.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dang, that's a big diamond.</i></td></tr>
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Here's how my neck is looking these days.<br />
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My voice still has that "strangulation" quality. I am unsuccessful at yelling at Phil, our 16 year old, to pick up socks, come for dinner, etc... Craig has started saying "What?" while at the same time walking away from me:) (Actually, he only did it once but I thought it was funny & blog-worthy.)<br />
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I am an avid listener of the hour long radio show called "<a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/476/what-doesnt-kill-you?act=1">This American Life</a>". I download it onto my iPhone and listen as I fall asleep at night. Last week, the show titled "What Doesn't Kill You" was featured & the first story resonated with me.</div>
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"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;">In July, Tig was diagnosed with cancer. A week later she went on stage on Los Angeles and did a now-legendary set about her string of misfortunes. This is an excerpt of the full performance, which is available for download at </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;"><a href="https://buy.louisck.net/purchase/tig-notaro-live" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #e24329; font-size: 11px; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Louis CK's web site</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;">. (13 minutes)"</span></div>
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To me, the first story was laugh-out-loud funny.</div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><i>Thank you for caring about me & for all your prayers ~ it's working </i>:~)</span></b>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-5937959998924281022012-10-05T12:52:00.002-07:002012-10-06T07:31:35.501-07:00Okay, a more in-depth post, if you're interested...<br />
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So I was pretty darn excited to hear Dr. O'Malley say no chemo & out with the feeding tube ~ Yay! Maybe it was the donuts ~ made fresh daily at the <a href="http://www.icehousedelivers.com/new/">Ice House</a>, yo.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Always ready with goodies I am.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Trish Dooley</i></td></tr>
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The first lady we meet at our appointment was Trish Dooley. I thought her job looked like fun. She put me through my paces on how much movement I could do with my mouth & different vowels. Then she got out an assortment of foods & drinks for me to try to swallow. This was the Best Test Ever & I passed with flying colors. Trish suggested that my nose tube could come out. Yippee! Thank you, Trish!<br />
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Next stop, Dr. O'Malley. He concurred with Trish and 1-2-3! out came the tube. Craig was amazed how long it was ~ gross, say I.<br />
He said everything was healing nicely and set me up for my next appointment with Dr. Ahn, a Radiation Oncologist for the next day. We said good by to our friends at Doc O'Malley's office ~ a wonderful team of people whom we had total confidence in. (Plus, they complimented my baking.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZ1jzZ84hQ9hGessD0-fyak4iaUkwY8rPA4cIiNi-ncUoqklQnKHVskqNSuqOrpvB2EfxHc8pSjRbvkKDUrMzhpr8hmlxBSicwHoD88JcMNCnudNH4Ly5feUrqIbfLPA99EbUPYWd9o8/s1600/IMG_2527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZ1jzZ84hQ9hGessD0-fyak4iaUkwY8rPA4cIiNi-ncUoqklQnKHVskqNSuqOrpvB2EfxHc8pSjRbvkKDUrMzhpr8hmlxBSicwHoD88JcMNCnudNH4Ly5feUrqIbfLPA99EbUPYWd9o8/s400/IMG_2527.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dorota (R) and her lil' sister!</i></td></tr>
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The next day, my wonderful husband drove once more down that awful road, misnamed the Schuylkill <i>Expressway </i>for our consultation with Dr. Peter Ahn. I thought radiation would be once a week for a few weeks. WRONG. It will be five days a week for six weeks. I will make this my new part time job, as one of Dr. Ahn's nurses said I would be able to drive myself. My heart also sank as I heard what radiation does to your teeth. My teeth have sucked down thousands of dollars already to keep 'em from misbehaving. I think I may have to have a few that my dentist & I have been watching, pulled. sob!<br />
<i> • I will have to apply flouride gel to my teeth daily for the rest of my life. </i><br />
<i> • My saliva glands will be fried so I will have dry mouth for the rest of my life.</i><br />
<i> • I may have to have a stomach feeding tube put in towards the end of the treatment because my </i><i>throat will be too sore to take food & drink.</i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">All those years of smoking were SO NOT WORTH THIS. <u>This is what I did to myself.</u></span></i><br />
The good side is, it will get rid of my facial hair on my chinny-chin-chin:) and most of all, hopefully will fry any cancer cells still running amok in my neck.<br />
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I was given a booklet describing what radiation treatment entailed. The cover looks more like planning for End of Life. What do you think? What exactly are they saying with the lighthouse illustration? Rough seas ahead?<br />
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There was a few things in it that made me giggle. This is one of them:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaG8cVoeT_Pjl9HALodFBQ6asncRObRhM30XjFTCMIoukLiFrjvTwsMdjxevUhyphenhyphen3VGdoRL2CKpX50ksQKjoW8qzW0V7_wruWSFwdndY6Y_ofvfNYpWIf9yGQhXpkQ_zxkmpUMTMSUo3U/s1600/IMG_2538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="104" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaG8cVoeT_Pjl9HALodFBQ6asncRObRhM30XjFTCMIoukLiFrjvTwsMdjxevUhyphenhyphen3VGdoRL2CKpX50ksQKjoW8qzW0V7_wruWSFwdndY6Y_ofvfNYpWIf9yGQhXpkQ_zxkmpUMTMSUo3U/s640/IMG_2538.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Whew~ I'm so relieved! But I so was hoping to be able to heat up a can of Progresso in my arm pit.<br />
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After hearing all this dismal news, I was feeling a little weepy because I'm a Dental Wimp. All's I can say is Thank God for Fairy God Mothers and Fairy God Friends. One friend decorated our entranceway for the season, plus left a fun goody bag, full of delightful & thoughtful things. I know I'll be using that Teddy, Mo!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLDx5UmtdJixnaG_OV9z1-Y3Omf2BQFjSor8M0zKlGtJSRvOK8CQO5FBAm9tD5KRLx54ZIrfIuLV5dUILzJvG2eO28LXXFJ_CJsLEyJSpN_UZq7JU__dfk4mGoJK1BW4tTjNS49p9dqU/s1600/IMG_2534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLDx5UmtdJixnaG_OV9z1-Y3Omf2BQFjSor8M0zKlGtJSRvOK8CQO5FBAm9tD5KRLx54ZIrfIuLV5dUILzJvG2eO28LXXFJ_CJsLEyJSpN_UZq7JU__dfk4mGoJK1BW4tTjNS49p9dqU/s640/IMG_2534.jpg" width="361" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Shadow approves of Mums</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjip9XO9SaWFV_cLMlbzjthyphenhyphenzcjo33DSfniYCc7t5ZO1Qk2bkLKkSV7lCZhD_tgCqN02iOmnU7IZvutjVGqz2LsC2jI3uU2od64x4sEGzZpdTzyyqJ3LZSbMvFnu_hWdyAqNm1Er9k1Ar8/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjip9XO9SaWFV_cLMlbzjthyphenhyphenzcjo33DSfniYCc7t5ZO1Qk2bkLKkSV7lCZhD_tgCqN02iOmnU7IZvutjVGqz2LsC2jI3uU2od64x4sEGzZpdTzyyqJ3LZSbMvFnu_hWdyAqNm1Er9k1Ar8/s640/IMG_2535.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Corn Shock & adorable scarecrow decor added.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzsUYf7vF5yOVWQk-53FquyOz8pNifi-AiyyE92QKsvQoTrZGiloBXpZmGWfqNnMJ_UytgFIOIgqoIBx44ChQ3Ew1P1rfX5jyID9C_T4Iz7bjhqHfWC67IpwZIwPZL4e5BSM6l5N7zpw/s1600/IMG_2536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzsUYf7vF5yOVWQk-53FquyOz8pNifi-AiyyE92QKsvQoTrZGiloBXpZmGWfqNnMJ_UytgFIOIgqoIBx44ChQ3Ew1P1rfX5jyID9C_T4Iz7bjhqHfWC67IpwZIwPZL4e5BSM6l5N7zpw/s320/IMG_2536.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ain't he cute?</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3LUFO86zd4QLiDtEEHKOMNg_cE-8pMe2n77hBXObQdQA2MAu7ntC47G1u8GBFH34j1eK7_VLERvMzJ5zNqmwIm2Inp4y8GmNe-I2-988KxHLu-NGJoPiXr1rPfodk-1YTOzzlc39KNU/s1600/IMG_2541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3LUFO86zd4QLiDtEEHKOMNg_cE-8pMe2n77hBXObQdQA2MAu7ntC47G1u8GBFH34j1eK7_VLERvMzJ5zNqmwIm2Inp4y8GmNe-I2-988KxHLu-NGJoPiXr1rPfodk-1YTOzzlc39KNU/s640/IMG_2541.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Bounty of Booty Bag delights! The shaw around Teddy is a Prayer Shaw, knitted by the<br /> Ladies of First Methodist Church in Phoenixville. Thank you ladies!</i></td></tr>
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So, my 80 year old mother in law not only braved our big exuberant dog, but made her way up our railless steps with that Prayer Shaw that the ladies of her church made just <i><b>for me</b></i>! I love you Mom! My friend Mo also left these words of advise for when things seem overwhelming:<br />
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time!" </span></i></b><br />
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I think I'll start on the tail:)</div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8040272143122075081.post-4632560368975715482012-10-05T08:10:00.000-07:002012-10-05T08:10:23.448-07:00My Hero<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Here's my Hero, Craig. </i></b></span></h3>
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He has been by my side throughout this whole ordeal, carting me about, waiting in small rooms, waiting by bedsides & being my extra set of ears. Plus, he has taken care of things on the home front ~ weird stuff for him, like shopping, laundry & pet medicating. Oh, and did I mention he also has a business to run?<br />
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Thank you so much, honey, I appreciate all you are doing for me!</span></b></i></div>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898544997711850953noreply@blogger.com2