POTHOLE!

Daggonit, a POTHOLE! Or two. Blew the air out of two tires, but the axle remained OK. 
As I was impatiently waiting for my first immuno-therapy, can you imagine my surprise when I was diagnosed with pneumonia! I reported to my doctor on Saturday extreme shortness of breath, and fatigue. Expecting "take an aspirin and . . . " he said, "Call an ambulance and go to the hospital--no husband driving me there. An ambulance." Well, to be sure, I did. 

After  5 days in the hospital, I am again at home, resting much more comfortably. I am rescheduled for my first immunotherapy on the 26th, so I could use a few prayers, a couple of attaboys, and whatever else might help that they can actually start treatment then. My white blood count was still high, "but descending," and it needs to descend quickly.

Hospital stays are nothing to write home about and I really didn't do much but sleep and eat the first few days. The staff, however, were wonderful and made it as comfortable as they could. The highlights, between naps, were the encouraging visits from my family -- I'm for sure not alone in this. And it has been a real treasure for Ralph and I to lean upon Chuck and Jim for their medical interpretations as well as June and Carolyn. 
Even bad food tastes better at home in your own 'jammies than bad food at the hospital in their nightwear designed by Dracula. I'm using a walker as a precaution--I finally got my legs working real well--but my balance has not yet returned!!! Had a warm welcome back to Bell Trace, Ralph and I fell back into our comfortable routine--and Life is Good.

ROADBLOCKS and those darn cones!!

Roadblocks ahead!! Watch out for those tippy orange and white cones laid out in such a manner that it looks like a darn maze. And s l o o w traffic. Of course, roadbocks and cones mean that something is going on, something is being built, and looking down the road a bit, it really wasn't that bad after all! And perhaps the end result was worth all of the "dammits" and slow burns you experienced while the road was being built.Well, we'll see!

Ralph, my brother Jim, and I consulted with Dr. Mark Dayton, Indiana University Health, Bloomington. He is collaborating with Dr. Greg Durm at the Simon Cancer Center in Indy. I will start keytruda, one of the new immuno-therapies, Wednesday. Treatment consists of an infusion once every three weeks and will be done in Bloomington. This is not chemotherapy and tends to be easier for patients to tolerate, but, of course, it does have side effects. It also has proven to have amazing results in many cases. There is another immuno-therapy drug tied to the DNA/gene EGFR that might be a second line of defense. My testing is still out on that one.

Not all of the news was positive, however. The tumors have grown since my first scan and lesions can be found in the liver, left femur and left hip, in the small of the back of the spinal column, and there is a mass in both lungs and the  numerous lymph nodes in my chest. Without therapy, the outlook is grim.

I am not deluding myself that it isn’t going to be a rocky road ahead, but we can work with it.  I needed time last night to let the news sink in and shed a few tears. 

I feel safe and in good hands and I feel the support of each of you—you don’t have to physically stand by my side for me to know that you are sending me prayers and good thoughts. My "stiff upper lip" goes spastic every once in a while, but I take my dammit doll . . .

On my part, I am feeling calm and resolved to seeing this through. It is interesting to realize what kind of thoughts take priority in your mind-stream (and Dr. Dayton has the MRI to prove to Jim that, yes, indeed, I do have a brain) when you are slam-bang up to the wall of your own mortality.

 So far, the inventory review of days past are bringing me pleasure; I'm not skipping the days that I would have gladly traded in for almost anything else, but I finally realize that I can't change even one of them! So I don't keep them under the microscope for very long... no more lessons there, I think. 

I've been lucky enough to have quite few "WOWIE!!!" days, too, so it all balances out. And all of you have participated in some of my "WOWIE!!" times - - like, one of you was born, . . or graduated. . or married . . the good stuff of life.

Love you all.

Beth

SIDESTEP: Second Opinion, Simon Cancer Center, IU Hospitals, Indianapolis

Guarded good news: [and slightly incorrect] My PDL-1 protein level is high enough to to begin KERATRUDA therapy right away. It is one of the new immuno-therapies showing excellent results.[It is in pill form;]Keytrnda (sp?) very expensive-covered by insurance (checking that out). I may also be a candidate for the new therapies that work with DNA/gene indicators. The results are not in on already-tested EGFR and there will be further testing on two other gene indicators if EGFR is not positive. No chemotherapy and, since the pills work through the blood stream, it will treat the adreno-carcinoma wherever it exists in my body. That drug would be, for the medicos in the family, Tagrifsu. 

I probably won't regain my voice; BUT before you think that might not be all bad, I have installed "megaphone" on my Iphone and am waiting for the speaker attachment to arrive from Amazon. 

Not so good news: The cancer has spread from the left lung to the right, involving the bunch of lymph nodes and blood vessels that come together in the center chest, under the sternum. It also has migrated to some bone locations and, as mentioned before, the liver. Dr. Durm, of the Simon Cancer Center was optimistic that I could get some shrinkage of the tumors through this process. I intend to take each good day and make it better, every bad day (and there will be some--these therapies are not without side effects) I will jump in bed, cover up my head, and feel sorry for myself. No help needed there!! I have plenty of self-empathy to last a while!

As with every such crisis, there are also blessings that come with them, and I am certainly going to count them every day as well. I am keeping a diary and may share some of that with you along the way. Ralph and I can laugh about it occasionally, and he is my strong right arm.The staff and residents who know my situation are very helpful and understanding. There is an extraordinary woman here, Jenny Kander, who made me a "dammit doll!" She is a published and recognized poet and maker of storytelling rustic dolls. Each doll has a background story--a bio, so to speak--and they are very popular. 

Here is the poem that accompanies the doll:

DAMMIT DOLL

Whenever things don't go so well

and you want to hit the wall and yell,

   here's a little dammit doll

   that you can't do without.

 Just grasp it firmly by the legs

And find a place to slam it,

and as you whack the stuffing out

yell: dammit!dammit! dammit!

And here is how you (mis)use this dammit doll:

Poor defenseless doll has no arms! I may get upset enough to give it a lick or two, but it nice to know that it's there if I really need to do so!!

Beth

. . . DETOUR!! On the Way to Where I Thought I Was Going

It is October 3rd and, as many of you know, I had a PET scan and an MRI this morning to get more information ab out a very surprising and upsetting diagnosis of lung cancer. I have set up this page for those in my most immediate circle of relatives--Van Vorsts, Greenes, Grays, and Carl and Connie Brorson--we've weathered a lot together. I am so very fortunate to have many of you who have expressed their good wishes and interest in what’s happening. I will use this page to do that. I won’t dwell on details and I know this sort of page isn’t for everyone. If you don’t want to know, don’t tune in and I will still honor and love the bond between us. Everyone, no matter the age, actually has only one day at a time. When the sun rises and you see it, it is a great gift. As one enters their 80s, the body sends signals that remind you, once in a while, that there are less “tomorrows” than you have had of “yesterdays!” When one receives a diagnosis as I have, it is still one day at a time and I want to make each one of those days a blessing for Ralph and me and to share those blessings with you, dear invitee. What I ask of you is to occasionally drop me a line through this group, or through Messenger or email.

 I AM NOT DISCUSSING THIS ON MY FACEBOOK PAGE. If you think of a funny family story or a quickie “hello,” let me know it. I am still feeling well—fatigued, no voice (which is, by the way, a result of the cancer), and I do the Cleese “silly walk” occasionally (I’m not that good, actually. He was in town recently and that is what made me think of it).  I am still walking on air because four of my grandchildren and two of their spouses brought two of the GREATS, Hanson and Carter, to visit and we were able, en mass, to meet Luna, Jeromi, Betsy, Ry, and Katie’s 10-week old white Labrador—who is, I am positive, going to be as loveable as Jennifer’s sweet Lab, Cricket. Sarah, Ralph’s daughter, and my brother, Jim, were both here as well. I could hardly concentrate on the testing this morning or think about the diagnosis because my heart was full of the weekend!!. I also got an up-to-date photo of Daniel Wayne Terhune III-DW3 or “Three Sticks” as he is known at our house. So—keep it light and I will, too—I’ll give you the lowdown and you keep me in your thoughts and send me a “hello” once in a while!