Havin' a Bad Hair Day

Three weeks ago, at her chemo session, Shea announced to her doctors that she wanted to change things up a bit. She has been going for chemo every other week, but truthfully, only has a couple of days every other week that she feels good. We have often talked about the fact that lying in bed all day is really not a real life, and she finally got fed up enough about it to try to make a change. I was down at the U of U, talking to my own doctor at the time, or I probably would have hyper-ventilated, but once everything was explained to me, I became okay with her decision. Basically it goes like this......no more 5 FU, since she would have to have it every couple of weeks. This was also the chemical that she brought home in the chemo ball. Since she is off 5 FU, she is able to extend her chemo sessions to every three weeks instead of every two. She will also increase the dose of Irinatican (do NOT look it up, since I know I totally butchered the spelling of it....but it sounds like Irene A. Teacan....awesome name, huh?) Anyway, we have now gone through the first round of the new system and we have learned a few things. #1. Shea gets way, way more sick the first few days of this plan. Apparently, Irene can really kick your butt. #2. It does seem that once we get Irene under control, Shea does have a few more days that she can run around, see friends, and just be "normal". #3. Shea does have better color in her face and seems to look much healthier by changing this up. #4 Irene wants all of Shea's hair.....and this can only be termed "A Real Pisser" (I am sorry Bishop, but that is an exact description that begins to encapsulate the feelings behind the thought......and I am a Marine, so I didn't have a more appropriate word for it). Anyway, Shea is losing a lot of hair, and this seems to me to be a huge indignity in a long, long line of inhumane indignities that need to be endured. Sooooo......we are going wig hunting, and when it is time to rock the Sinead O'Connor look....we are both going to rock it.....because no woman should ever have to go this one alone. And I can tell you....this one is hard!! Those of you who know me know I have never cared two hoots for my hair, but Shea has always made sure that her hair has been styled, cut and colored to perfection.....and the thought of taking mine off is leaving a huge pit in the bottom of my stomach....so I can't even begin to imagine what my Shea-Shea is going through....can I just say that cancer really sucks? If there is hair loss involved, why can't cancer take the underarm and leg hair....not to mention a bikini line, or in my case, the beard and mustache.....but no......it just likes the hair on your head. Go figure....so, in the next few weeks, we will have new head gear....I'm thinking of something pink like cotton candy....but Shea will probably want me to be a little more "normal".....whatever that means. So if you are out and about.....look for cute hats and headgear.....but no scarves!! I absolutely refuse to look like the overweight, trailer park babushka that I know a scarf will create (hey....I do own a mirror...and yes I've put one on....and yes.....I DID look like and overweight trailer park babushka....not that there is anything wrong with being overweight....or living in a trailer park....or being a babushka, but it is just a bit overwhelming for me to confront the world as all three.....just sayin') Thanks for all your prayers, love and concern....we really do appreciate it....and for the most part....we are all doing fine and we have many more moments of happiness than sad...and that makes any bad hair day a good one :)

Playing Catch-Up

Okay....so can I say that I was totally blown away when I realized that I have not posted a blog for a very, very, very long time? Seriously, I thought it had only been a month, at the very least, and it is almost triple that amount!! Wow...can't imagine how that happened since most of my days have a long, lazy, last forever kind of feel to them. So much has happened....and yet so much remains the same. And please excuse the ramblings...I truly am not very coherent....you'd think I hadn't got any rest or something....LOL. In the past several weeks, Shea has continued to have chemotherapy. We have switched main oncology teams because the communication between us was crazy, crazy ( we will take a lion share of the blame, since trying to communicate an idea to the Liston's without us talking over, under and around you is quite the feat). Anyway, long story short.....out with the one and in with the new. So far so good, but I have learned to not count my chickens before they hatch because with cancer....your chicken eggs just might really be lizard or snake eggs, so it is best to take it a day at a time. I have had several people tell me that they wished I wrote more, but honestly, you can only whine so much before you get sick of hearing it, so I felt that you and I were better off taking a break (a separation of a sorts) and can I say a big Thank You to everyone who was not deterred and kept right on keeping on in my face....you are appreciated more than you will ever know. I was reading an article talking about the latest research that shows that women who have strong support systems live the longest...if that is the case, I will probably live to be over a 100 years old....so thanks! Back to Shea.....In the midst of all the chaos and yahoo, she had another stent placed in her colon. Her CT/PET scan had shown some areas of the colon appeared to be inflamed and swollen. They couldn't figure out if it was an infection or not, so the plan was to do a colonoscopy (which when you spell check offers up kalidescope, which is way better than a colonoscopy any day of the week, but cracks me up because if I were texting, you would wonder why I am talking about children's toys all of a sudden because that dang predictive text screws me over every single time), possibly take some samples and move on. It was mentioned in passing, that is necessary, a stent would be placed. Well.....apparently they felt it was necessary, because Shea exited with new hardware. All of that was fine until last weekend. Shea woke up Saturday morning at 4 in severe pain. She knew it was my day off, so she didn't want to wake me up, but at 9 a.m., Kelt came to tell me that when he was getting ready for work, Shea had told him that she knew her stent had migrated and was causing her pain. I immediately went downstairs and she told me she was calling Huntsman. When she got through, she was able to speak with the on-duty Oncologist (who had better pray very, very hard that they remain nameless to me....sorry Bishop....a new one by the way.....but I am in the mood to provide a verbal smack-down) anyway....this professional told Shea that she would just need to go to her closest emergency room and get help or wait until Monday and then go to the clinic. She kept telling Shea that the clinics were all closed over and over again, while Shea was trying to clarify a few things. You know it was pretty bad when Shea finally snapped and essentially said "I'm not stupid...you can stop telling me that the clinics are closed. I just need to have you listen to me for a little bit"....but that really didn't happen, so in short order Shea was bundled up in the car for a ride to the emergency room. now I know that there are fabulous people who work at the Brigham Hospital, but the last time we were there for labs they acted like they didn't have a clue about accessing a port or anything else regarding a patient with cancer paraphernalia, so that left Ogden or Logan. A friend just had a family member get a horrible staph infection in Ogden....so off to Logan we go. When we got there, the staff were exceptional. They had given Shea some pain killers and were discussing how to move forward, when we mentioned that Shea had recent blood work done the Wednesday before, so if they wanted to contact Huntsman, they could probably have that info faxed to them. The Doctor came back and said that he actually had found out that the doctor who had placed Shea's stent was the Gastroenterologist on call at the U of U Hospital ( close affiliate to Huntsman), and he had expressed a desire to take care of the issue for Shea. He wanted her to get to Salt Lake, have a CT scan and then go into a procedure to remove the stent. We were given the option of transporting her by ambulance down, or we could wait until her oxygen levels were normal enough to travel (they had dropped due to the medication they had given her) We decided to wait, so it wasn't until noon that we were on the road for Salt Lake and I was given the admonition to monitor her breathing while I drove (now there is an experience.....you have to keep the person awake...no sleeping for them, but they can't talk or else it drops, as well....so basically it is me in the car with diarrhea of the mouth and Shea patiently listening to my blabber....yuck!) We arrived at the U at 3:00 and at 3:14 we were escorted to room 17. At 5:30 she was finally given the dye to drink (after we had reminded the staff that we were scheduled for a CT) and we were told that the turn-around from dye to done was 3 hours. Shea was in increasing pain but she kept telling herself to hang on until 8 or 9 and it would all be okay. We kept talking to the ER staff, whose hands were tied because we were waiting on Doctor On-call. One of the doctors made the comment to Shea about if she was sure the stent had moved and Shea said " Yes...I haven't been eating alot of chicken wire lately....maybe spoons, but not any forks, so I'm pretty sure it is the stent". The look on his face was priceless, and we had to chuckle about that. Imagine or surprise and dismay when we were called and told at 9:30 that the procedure would take place at some unspecified time the following day. Actually, it wasn't surprise and dismay.....it was more like I had a nuclear explosion and Shea cried....a lot!! I was pacing in her room while I argued with a doctor on the phone for 45 minutes using words like reprehensible....irresponsible health care....bordering immoral....we are the ones bent over the barrel...etc. etc.....when all I really wanted to say was *&%$#*&#$@#%$^!!!!! but I didn't, because emergency room security was eye-balling me from the corridor and it wasn't necessarily his butt I wanted to kick!! When I was done arguing/negotiating/threatening/planning someone's pre-mature demise, Shea asked to talk to her on the phone. She was crying quite hard at this point, since it was too painful for her to even lie down in bed and she just told the doctor.."Please help me....I don't care who helps me....just find me someone....I trust you to care about me and take care of me". I was so proud of her....that was the best guilt trip ever....almost like she had learned from a master LOL. We had a call back and were told that the doctor and a surgical team were on their way...she would go into surgery at 11:30 at night. Pretty soon, the technician arrived with a whole bunch of equipment and room number 17 was transformed. Two doctors later, and we were ready to rock and roll. They allowed me to stay up by Shea's head and hold her hand since I was penned in by the equipment. As they began to administer the anesthesia, Shea's blood pressure kept dropping. We had to keep her right on the fringe of being awake, but relaxed enough to get the job done. It was scary for me because at one point, she was at 47/38....not exactly the kind of blood pressure you want to see. They were monitoring it every 2 minutes, so if she could tolerate more, they could give her more. Because she was only slightly under, she was feeling a lot of pain and she kept mumbling to me "Mom....tell them I take extended release...tell them I take extended release" which refrences the pain killer that she takes at home. When they were able to view the stent, they realized that it had failed to deploy on one side and so instead of being able to do it's job, these metal barbs were like claws tearing her up on the inside. Everytime, the doctor tried to remove it...no matter which way he turned it, it just would dig in deeper or grab another place....(imagine one of those Chinese hand-cuff toys...the ones you put on your fingers and they pull tight....only made out of metal....really horrific to watch). Finally, the technician was directed to get another surgeon on the phone so he could consult/google for ideas (In case I am in the end-of -the-world scenario, I hope google is available, because apparently you really CAN google everything and anything). He was busy typing (you could hear the keys click-clacking) when he said that he had worked with a few other stents that had been stuck and he had removed them by inverting them and turning them inside out. Viola! That is all it took, and it was out! Shea's body immediately collapsed and the nurse and I thought for a split second that she had died....but the blood pressure monitor proved us wrong. She was just so exhausted from all that pain, that once her body was free, she could finally rest. By 2:00 a.m. we were shown to our room in the observation area ( which happened to be the psych room...sink covered up, two cameras to make sure we were okay, door lock on the outside, etc.), I made a run to the all night Starbucks for orange juice and croissants (yes, there is one in the lobby of the hospital....amazing, huh!) and by 3:00 we were asleep. At 4 we were awakened by the glaring lights (remember the psych room?) because someone had accidentally hit the light switch out in the hall, but after I waddled out and turned it off, we were able to sleep until 6, which is the time that all nurses, doctors, technicians, custodial workers, phlebotomists etc. know is the time that no patient must be allowed to sleep later than...and if you have spent more than a day in a hospital, you know this is true ( I believe that if we allowed the sick to actually sleep....they might get better quicker....but no one asked me and no one cares.....and my Dad would just say I was lazy to want to sleep past 6, so there you are....) We cat-napped until 11:00, at which point we decided we had better get home, so we could actually sleep. Shea is doing well, but is tired after her ordeal, and we have vowed NO MORE STENTS!!!! (unless it is a matter of life or death....but even then, we will talk) I know all of this probably will embarrass Shea for you to know, but there it is. Like Shea says...colon cancer isn't glamorous like breast cancer...no cute T-shirts, no cute ribbons etc.....no one wears things that say "I like butts" or " check your "A"....although when we were talking about it at work and I was telling my co-workers this I had said "No one says 'get rid of your a@@'", and a coworker said "Ummm, I think that's called divorce." I laughed so hard....and it is probably one of those things that you just had to be there...but thank goodness for humor, otherwise I would be a permanent resident in psych/observation...which really is okay, since it is 50 feet from a Starbucks....so there you are.....life at the Liston's.....and now you are all caught up...love to all :)

Ambiguity

Ambiguity....What Happens in Vagueness, stays in Vagueness (thanks, Mental Floss) perfectly describes what I have been feeling about the Huntsman for the last several weeks. I have struggled with the feeling that I wasn't getting any answers or information. But, as my Grandma Mary used to tell me..."Be careful what you wish for....you just might get it" (and for all the grammar gestapo's out there....I know you shouldn't start a sentence with but or an and ....but I did, and I don't care ...so there). Kelt went with Shea on Wednesday to start her new round of chemo. When they met with the team, they told Kelt that everything looked good and was positive (or so he says they said...which I'm sure they did, but it is kind of just a song and dance to distract us....think the snake song 'Trust in Me' in the movie Jungle Book). They then started the chemo. This go-around is going to be brutal. Kelt said that the new drug wasn't in her system very long before she began to throw up. It has been several days since, and I would still say that she is showing the effects (she might tell you otherwise, but she doesn't want you to think that she can't handle this). While they were there, Kelt had them print out the report from her latest PT/CT scan. It shows that the liver embolization did make a minor change in the size of the tumor, but that it did not stop it from staying metabolically active. From what I could gather, it doesn't seem as if this procedure would be worth doing again at this point. We will have to see what the doctors have to say the next time she goes for treatment. The cancer in her lungs has expanded in size and number, which is a big concern. I am planning on going to Huntsman for the next session.....Kelt and Shea are way too nice to hold someone's feet to the fire, but I am not that nice of a human being. I don't have any problem roasting them over a fire, as I am done with all of the vague, nothingness that I think we have been given lately. Truth be told....I would love to be an ostrich and bury my head in the sand and pretend like nothing dramatic is taking place in our lives, but I can't.....it's Shea Shea's life I'm talking about....and I can't do anything to fix whats going on...but I CAN try to understand it. That being said.....Shea loves hearing about your words of love and encouragement....I know she appreciates each and everything, big and small, that is done/given in her behalf. I find myself so full of gratitude for all my blessings, that I get teary-eyed, and then I start to cry and the cycle goes round and round. It really drives me crazy in a way because I have been a scrapper all my life. When I was in first grade, I wasn't intimidated by the 6th grade bully....I took him on and won. I have pushed and shoved and fought a good portion of my life and felt like I was at least holding my own.....but I am afraid that I might not be able to win this one. And truthfully.....that just plain pisses me off (sorry Bishop....you can take the girl out of the Marines, but you can't take the Marine out of the girl). It is hard to describe the thoughts and feelings that I have on a daily basis. Sometimes I feel like my head is about 30 pounds too heavy and the knot in my stomach never goes away (don't worry....I can easily eat around that knot...in fact, I am a stress eater, so I am not hurting in the "add the fat" area). I know people don't believe me when I say that I am fine, but for the most part, I am. But......if I think about the negative, I'll just stay in bed all day and that won't do anyone any good. So....I keep focusing on the positive....and here it is. Shea does not have cancer in her brain, her sinuses, her eyes, her spleen, her bones or in her urinary system (I'm sure there are other places in the clear, but I can't remember them off the top of my head). Shea is receiving care at one of the top hospitals in the world (even though I have been taking their name in vain for the last few weeks). Shea has friends and family who love and support her (and the family also has friends and family who support them ). We are together...we have a house.....more food than I need....jobs, school and opportunities....blessings galore.....and none of that is vague or imaginary. All tangible.....and/but I like that!

Hello....is anyone still out there?

It has been quite a long time since I decided to make a post. I was looking at the blog date, and it tells me that for approximately two months, I have tried to live in total oblivion and pretend that my life was simply filled with the good old chaos that existed prior to cancer entering our lives. It is very difficult to maneuver through all the yadda-yadda that seems to come with the territory. Shea had her procedure and we were waiting patiently to hear all about the results... Well, here's a news flash.....we STILL don't know. I kid you not.....not a word. Other than "it wasn't quite as successful as we had hoped.". Really? That's all you've got? As my father-in-law used to say...."I can kick a pig in the butt and get more out of it than that!" I am translating this to mean that the news sucks, and so no one wants to deliver it ( killing of the messenger and all that jazz). Kelt thinks that this means that the news is good, and so they don't feel like they need to tell us. It will probably take another year before they say anything, so I would tell you that I will let you know when I know....but I probably won't know. Just number 676 of the things that are beginning to annoy me about this cancer cruise. We were told that the chemo treatments that Shea has been having stopped being effective about a month ago, so they gave her a break for a couple of weeks and we will start with a new concoction of chemo drugs this Wednesday the 30th. I am not looking forward to the change, since this drug causes extreme nausea and vomiting.....not exactly on my list, or Shea's list, of things to do for a good time. Another side effect is the loss of hair, so we are holding our breath and praying that , in Shea's case, that won't happen. I had promised Shea way back when this started, that if she lost her hair, I would lose mine too....so I am planning a kick-butt wig wardrobe.....just in case. I'm thinking something along the lines of a Nicki Minage, a Lady Godiva and a black, punk rock do.....kind of like something Pink would wear to a bar fight. What I (and especially Kelt, who knows I can be quite frightening) am praying for is that I never have to worry about it because Shea won't lose her hair...done deal. Speaking of hair...... Shea is looking really sassy and sexy and is rocking a new look. Her boyfriends Mom treated her to a salon session in Park City over Thanksgiving break, and she looks good! I think when she feels good, she should spend her time walking a few runways! It has been nice to have her able to spend so much time with friends and family. It is fun for me to see her all dressed up instead of in bed in pajamas (although she has always looked really good while she does that.....many people can't believe that she is so sick when they see her. In fact, she was telling me that she is tired of the dirty looks she gets when she is riding in a wheelchair.....especially when she stands up to stretch her legs. It makes me catch how many times in a day I would make snap judgements and decisions about people without ever really having the facts. If anything good can be said about cancer, it is the fact that it teaches you many things about yourself that you otherwise would never know or understand. I think I am becoming kinder and more mellow (my family will tell you otherwise, but don't say anything to me.....I want to be as delusional as possible, thank you very much.). So the upshot of the long silence is this......no new knowledge as pertains to the liver procedure. It wasn't as successful as they had hoped, so jury is still out on the re-do option; we will be starting a new chemotherapy beginning on the 30th; the family is hanging in there, but feeling somewhat like cancer hostages; we really do feel grateful for all of the tender mercies and beautiful moments that our Heavenly Father generously gives us, and I am officially addicted to Coke, which makes me a liquid coke addict. We need intervention......most certainly, divine.

Just a Little "Whine"

Shea had her scheduled procedure on her liver. As she was getting ready to go see Dr. Eugene (or Dr. Whoa, as one of his receptionists call him...and no, I still don't know what his name really is), a nurse came into the room we were in and asked Shea to disrobe, and put on only the hospital gown. Normally, this would be expected, but the room we were in had about 12 feet of open windows on one side and 6 feet of windows on the other. No curtains, etc......just windows. Shea and I laughed and she said, "Oh well, I've never undressed for all of Salt Lake before.....I hope they are ready for this". We figured that the windows were tinted in such a way that no one could see in, but it had to have been weird to get all naked when you can see people in the restaurant across the way.....cancer really 'treats' you to all kinds of things and situations you never thought you would be in. Oh well, after a few pokes, and a bunch of preliminary drugs, she was off to the big dance. Kelt and I waited for several hours in the waiting room since it ended up taking over 4 hours to complete the procedure. As Shea was brought to us, we noticed that she was very groggy and just not feeling real well. As time progressed, her pain level began to spike. The nurses were doing everything they could to try to help her, but nothing was working. Several times a nurse would stand on one side of her bed and I would be on the other side, trying to massage her back muscles so that they wouldn't keep cramping up. It didn't help that she had to lie flat for five hours, so she couldn't even adjust her legs or anything to try to alleviate the pain. When Dr. Eugene came in to check on her, he was shocked to see the level of pain that she was experiencing. He felt like it had something to do with the fact that she was on the operating table so long, combined with the forced lying flat. Her back muscles and stomach muscles just kept rippling and cramping. He began to throw whatever pain medication and muscle relaxers he could at her, but her body would just absorb it. He was amazed that 8 mg of morphine only showed any effect for less than 30 minutes. Her muscles sometimes made it look as if she were bouncing on the bed, while lying flat. Overall, it really was one of the most brutal things I have ever seen. It was horrible to stand there and just look and feel helpless. I have not been able to post this blog for so long, because the memory of that pain and helplessness has just been more than I could bring myself to revisit. And the lovely thing about all of it, is the fact that we may have to do it all over again. I so appreciated her boyfriend for being there for so much of it with us. He is so tender and loving and giving....it was more than amazing, and I am so very grateful that he is in her life. At one point, the pain was so great and her stomach was cramping so much, that Shea had to throw-up. I happened to be watching his face, and he didn't even look fazed by any of it (I, on the other hand, probably had a look of total horror on mine). Right after the nurse wiped her mouth, he went in for a kiss. Shea gasped out an "I just threw-up!", and he just brushed some hair behind her ear and said, "I don't care". For that, he can rob a bank....kick a cat...I don't care......he is definitely one of my heroes. Kelt was the other one. I would have fallen apart through all of the nightmare, but he stayed calm and steady....just what I needed to avoid a total freak-out. The pain lasted until the next morning, which meant that she really didn't get any rest or relief until the next day. Dr. Eugene said that they have a leader board at Huntsman of who has required the most medication during a surgery or a procedure, and Shea just toppled the leader right off the list. What a lousy thing to 'win'. It took her a couple of days before she was ready to come home, which was a very good thing, since her bedroom wasn't quite ready. Finally, when she could come home, I knew her bed had arrived and all was going to be fine. I had seen the room before I headed to Huntsman to pick her and Kelt up, but I couldn't help but gasp when I saw it with her when we arrived home. It was absolutely gorgeous and amazing!! And....it just keeps getting better and better as last minute things like curtains and blinds start coming in. I can't believe what was accomplished in so little time. So many people donated several days and hours to make a dream room for Shea. Once again....words really don't suffice....so all I can say is a heartfelt "Thank You".....and I can let you know that I still kind of 'tear up' every time I go in to her room. It truly is beautiful. Shea had chemo this past Wednesday on the 5th. Since her birthday was on the 4th, I was glad that it came after, so that she could get out with friends and enjoy herself. No one should have to be worrying about cancer when they are turning 24....but Shea had to....which can I just say as politely as possible.....totally freakin' sucks!!! (sorry once again Bishop, but believe me.....I did 'edit' and use the 'filter' button) So I was happy when she assured me that she had a great day. She was tired, but happy. When she went for chemo, she was told that we will meet again with Dr. Eugene...time and date TBA...we only know the where and that is at the Huntsman. At that time, we will know if this procedure was 'successful' or not and whether or not we are going to give it a go again. So.....I will post and let everyone know when I know....but I am not holding my breath, since it seems like it may be a couple of weeks out...or not....who knows. I just know that if I am only now able to type about it, I am not too sure I can go through it again. Which is really stupid, since I did nothing the first go around. I just know that I am sure that before I came to this world, I knew I was going to have this experience....but that was before I realized that I am not super-woman and that sometimes life just is crappier than I had formerly realized. I don't feel like I was lied to in the pre-existence.....I was just too stupid to read the fine print....and I am not as strong and evil as I would like to think that I am. I really think I would rather face down a mugger than see Dr. Eugene again....but no one is asking me. And I feel really lousy when I think of what Shea must be thinking and feeling....so I will stop my whining and complaining (well, some of it anyway)...and I will continue to remind Heavenly Father that my name really isn't Job.....and I think I do have a breaking point....and then I will get a coke and some McDonalds fries and remind him to just keep hanging on to us....and not to let go....and I will try to settle down and not kick and fuss so much. I will strive to feel what I felt over conference (Thank You Father! ) and realize that this too shall pass( and just because it feels like an over-sized peach pit, it will pass all the same)....and we will once again pull though...because the Liston's are tough and ornery and stubborn.....and sometimes that is all you need.

The Secret

Okay....I know it has a been a long, dry spell of no information shared through the blog, but I am not going to provide any excuses...I have enjoyed every moment away. Just kidding. In fact, the reason that I have not blogged until now is because I am a mean and ornery person who couldn't think of a single positive thing to share. Not one. And even though I had several people beg, plead and threaten me to write some more, I absolutely refused. Because, I really wasn't in that great of a frame of mind. Talk about a yo-yo of emotions! If I wasn't already menopausal, I'd think I was going through menopause (sorry to all the men reading this....I'm sure your eyes are burning and the words 'too much information' are war-chanting through your brains). Anyway, I think I'm coming out from the dark side...it has taken a lot of coke, candy and tears, but I'm starting to feel a bit of a groove again. Shea had met with a team of doctors to discuss 'options'. When Huntsman called, they said she would be meeting with a Dr. Lowe. I said, "Dr. Lowe as in L-O-W-E?" and the nurse confirmed that I was correct. When Shea and Kelt got to the Huntsman, imagine their surprise when they were told that a Dr. Lowe did not exist. Turns out, the physician is from somewhere in the orient, no one knows how to spell or pronounce his name (I still don't know who the sam-hill he is, or what his name really is) and he answers to the name of Eugene. Does that crack anyone else up? Eugene? Really? Wouldn't Bob be better? or Blade? But Shea's new team doctor is Eugene. It was decided that the best thing to do next is surgery on her liver. Rather than go in and start cutting, we have opted for a less invasive form of surgery. Essentially they will go through the groin and place little balls coated in chemo into the liver. The balls will then migrate/or be placed in such a way as to cut off the blood supply to the largest tumor in the liver. If all goes well, we will repeat the procedure a couple of weeks later. It is a fairly easy operation, so to speak, but the problems involved for Shea are two-fold. The first problem is the fact that she has to be awake the entire time. She can't even be semi-asleep. This operation takes 3-6 hours, so that is a long time to try to not psych yourself out. Eugene was kind enough to also tell us that the liver spasms to try to get rid of the little balls, so it is excruciatingly painful afterward. She will have to stay at the Huntsman until the pain is under control. I hope that part does not take too long. We have known for a couple of weeks that surgery was pending, and Huntsman told us they would let us know exactly when. Well, they just told us at around noon today, and surgery is tomorrow. In the morning...at 9. Thank goodness Kelt and I have such fabulous bosses or we would be in trouble. Shea put it very well..."Sometimes they act like...'Well, you have cancer. It isn't as if you are doing anything else other than lying around. We'll get to you when we get to you'" So now we are in super-pack and plan mode. On the upside to all of this....Thanks to a wonderful, insightful friend and at team of other super-wonderful friends, Shea has been given a fun activity to look forward to. A friend has organized a complete bedroom make-over, including a new comfy, adjustable bed. So while Shea is in the hospital, this team will be moving in and redoing the hovel that she has been consigned to. And when I say hovel, I mean hovel. The wallpaper in this room dates from the 30's ....it is oh so attractive. The lighting is a stupid bulb. We have been meaning to address the issue, but just didn't have the time or energy, so I am so grateful to everyone involved. Malt-O-Meal donated $850.00 which went toward the bed, and several other individuals have participated, as well. So once again, I am struggling for words adequate enough to say Thank You. Because sometimes, Thank You just doesn't cut it. For me, it isn't about the bed, or the paint or the ceiling fan/light...it is about Shea smiling and being excited and not focusing on this stupid operation that we have to do. That has meant the world. Someone asked me today what helps the most, and I would have to say...anything that puts some "happy" into her life. That's the secret. Speaking of the secret....that is a book another friend has given me to read. She was telling me today that everything that I put out into the world will come back to me.....kind of like wicked karma/universe garbage/mother's curse....you get the idea. So to all those people that I have wanted to punch lately (you don't know who you are, but I am positive it isn't anyone reading this) or to the one I want to run over (you know who you are...you might be reading this)...I am saying I forgive you....I am moving forward and hopefully upward....I am determined to be happy....and we are going to get through the next week smoothly and without any extra stress or pain. Coke and candy and tears will help....and that's my secret.

Procrastination Takes Coordination

Okay....so here I am, adding another post. Mainly to quell the rumours that I have fallen off the face of the earth (sorry to disappoint some of you..heehee). And can I just say that part of the reason why I have waited so long to post is the fact that this stupid I-Pad truly drives me crazy. already it has wanted to change rumours to dimples , heehee to hedged and quell to quack. It gets rather irritating to change those things back a few times just because the computer is much, much smarter than me....so that drives me crazy. That being said, that is only partially the reason why I have waited so long to blog again. The real reason is because I have enjoyed pretending to be "normal"for the last several weeks. See, in my other "normal" life, I hate to write. I mean really, really, really hate it. I procrastinated every writing assignment from junior high on through grad school....waiting until the last bitter moment for my 'muse' to kick in ( I learned that my 'muse' is basically Nacho Cheese Doritos chased by some Coke or Dr. Pepper depending on which decade we are talking about). So basically, I would rather have a homemade bikini wax (now there's a story......) than write. It was very surreal for Shea and I to go through a few days of notoriety leading up to the benefit. We were on an amazing radio show...the Freak Show, no less....and yes, the irony was not lost on me. Basically, because when you ares a member of the CCC, you spend a fair amount of your life feeling somewhat like a freak. So we really appreciated the fact that these guys made "freak" look good....and I mean really good. And nice....as in really, really nice. Shea and I were both ready to vomit with nerves when we pulled into the parking lot, but after being assured not to worry since "no one ever listens to this radio station anyway", we settled down....Shea in front of a mic and me on a back bench far, far away from a mic which is a good thing, since I like to talk as much as I hate to write. If I could figure out how to talk all day and get paid for it, I would......oh, wait.....I already did hahaha. So after a wonderful time on the air, we traveled home and prepared for the big benefit night. That is when we realized that it wasn't nerves that Shea was suffering from, but some good old-fashioned tummy upset. She felt so badly about not being able to attend the benefit for the entire time, but she was glad to be able to see some things and participate in the program. I know that it meant so much to her to be able to look out over the crowd and see so many people who care about her and support her. It was a wonderful lift to her spirits. I had to keep wiggling my toes and looking up at the ceiling to avoid bawling like a stupid baby all night. It was beyond words incredible. I will never be able to pay back or pay it forward.....the hours and dedication in our behalf was so huge. It was so fantastic, we had so many people tell us that they had never witnessed something so amazing in Brigham City.......so from my heart to all of yours....many thanks! Unfortunately, Shea had a very bad few days following the benefit. It is much harder for her to bounce back from any activity that she is able to participate in. She goes for another infusion on the 15th and then will run through the series of in-depth scans on the 22nd. We will meet with her doctor and oncology team on the 29th to hear about the promised "options", so we are getting anxious to hear what they are going to say/suggest. The other day I was in Pleasant Grove visiting some friends. I had a few minute before I needed to leave for Salt Lake, so I attended their city 'Promenade'...a kind of a craft show/farmer's market/get together. When I was there, I saw a lady advertising that she could "read faces". Needless to say, I was intrigued. I have always been curious about all of that hocus-locus kind of stuff, and I thought for five bucks...what the heck. I was walking up to lay down the money and fully expecting to hear "Oh.....your face is saying 'dang, I sure am old!' and 'do you think you could maybe moisturize once in a while?'" when a lady in a track suit shoved on by me. Soooo, no reading of the face......and here is the dumb thing. It keeps bugging me. You would think that I would dwell on the credit crisis (no, not mine....the governments. Although Kelt wishes I would dwell on mine a little bit more LOL) , or the fact that school is about to begin or on Shea's cancer....but, no! I have to continually think about that stupid face reading (and yes Bishop....I know what you are going to tell me and you are absolutely right of course), but there it is. It is almost as if I think she can look at my face and say to me, "Hold on for just two/ten/twenty-four more oaths and all of this Huntsman crap will be over". I just do better when I have a deadline looming. I like them, they make me comfortable. If I had a deadline, I could eat Doritos and guzzle Coke right up to the end and right before it was through.....BAM....I could stand up, do the cancer thing, turn it back over to God and then wait for the final grade......just like the papers back in school. Because I am brilliant when it comes to procrastination....that I can do. And I oh so want to procrastinated everything that cancer and the Huntsman stand for, because the hardest thing right now is to just keep keeping on. My feet hurt, and I'm tired of playing the game. And the thing that hurts the worst is watching the toll that this takes on Shea. It is really driving me crazy....just like the Face Reader. Anyone want to go for a drive to Pleasant Grove anytime soon? Doritos and Coke required.