Quiet contemplation

There is something to be said for some peace and quiet.  I love my busy noisy life, but I seriously need down time on a regular basis to re-charge.  I love my solitude, perhaps from my quiet childhood I learned to enjoy my own company.  I rarely feel lonely or bored, and I do like that about myself.  

I have had the last day to quietly go about my tasks in privacy, though I am hugely grateful for the offers from my loved ones to accompany me, drive me, visit etc, I am also grateful that I can still do this stuff on my own.  I spend a decent amount of my fear on the prospective loss of independence in my future.

I enjoyed the sunny drive to the city in my spiffy little car yesterday, and I felt comfortable checking myself in to the chemotherapy unit at Sunnybrook and reading a book in the lounge chair I scooped.  I quietly sipped away on my couple litres of water (have to be very hydrated to receive and recover from any type of chemo or immunotherapy) and observed the familiar scene.

I recognized some fellow patients from previous visits to Odette, the elderly gentleman with stage 4 melanoma (who didn't recognize me though we have spoken a couple of times), and the Greek lady who recovered from breast cancer only to get a painful form of bone cancer.  My Mom chatted her up on one of our visits so she would totally have snagged her for a chat (and her spanakopita recipe) had she been with me yesterday. 

The nurses are very helpful and with a few of them I am on a first-name basis, they commented on how it has been a while since I was here?  I filled them in on how busy I have been since October with my thyroid surgery etc, and they just shook their heads.  They must see all kinds of medical cases there, they are special people to work in that field. 

All settled into my IV chair, it was monumental to me that I was able to make it to the chemo recliner for the fifth of my eight allotted treatments, after so narrowly missing being forced to opt out of the trial.  

I was warmly greeted by the other patients in my room, and we had some chance for small talk between nurse Amy darting around hooking us all up.  I amused myself by noticing that I could see my car in the parking lot from my window, and it occurred to me that I could take some photos to share with you a bit of how it is inside the chemo unit.  It is peaceful inside, and the windows are mirrored on the outside of Odette Cancer Centre so no one can see in, but I can see my Honda! 

Can you see my car there..?  -------------->

Its the little black thingy right under the pink star on the window LOL  It's not a great photo but I couldn't get up from under my nice warm blanket with my apple juice. ;-)

Here are my feet under the warm blankie, showing what each chemo chair looks like, I was in #2 yesterday, but this gives you an idea.  Normal hospital stuff. 

 

Oh yes, and this is my $30 000  per dose chemical shot.  

That tiny brown bag up there?  That's my melanoma's worst enemy.

The infusion went well as expected, vital signs during treatment and for an hour afterward were all good, I can't believe how comfortable I feel with the whole process, it's a strange feeling but hey, gotta go with it I guess, it is part of my experience.  One foot in front of the other.

I remember the characteristics of each treatment visit (and no, no celebrities this time, as the girls asked me on the phone last night LOL), and I remember being the new one still figuring out the rhythm of the chemo unit.  

Yesterday an elderly lady was in for her second treatment of chemotherapy, and I recognised her vaguely-mystified look about some of the goings on.  I felt badly for her, as she seemed to have a bit of a language barrier as well, and she looked like she was ready to receive her treatment but really maybe didn't want to be there at all.  Thankfully she had her son with her, he was attentive and obviously experienced in the medical field.  We had some opportunity to chat and it was a nice way to pass the time, sharing stories and exchanging tidbits of helpful information.  

Yesterday I met people from north of Peterborough, who stayed with their son in the city when here for Dad's treatments, and the lady across from me, accompanied by her sister and brother, were all from Toronto.  Plus my neighbour with the son, who travels all around Ontario for work, but is based here in the city.  Neat to hear everyone's stories, cancer-related and otherwise.  And there is always a warm farewell to each other as we are discharged one by one from our recliners... everyone seems to say "Take Care" in the most sincere way.  We're all in it together. 

I was super zonked and crashed early with my habitually sore post-IV infusion arm, large bruise on my hand this time also - oops Amy!  Up this morning and yummy coffee and breakfast, now getting ready to head over for my three-month CT scan.  I hope they are on time today, it can be a gamble.  

I have embraced my quiet time and I am not really ready to let it go just yet, but I must.  I have to will myself to pack my bag and move along to my next appointment.  I feel relaxed, and I have just been willing my cells to behave themselves and not show anything bad on the CT scan today.  This is my fourth CT scan, and I will have results later this week.

OK off I go. Quietly and anonymously, I will be able to finish my book today as I drink the vile CT scan stuff and pretend it's a big-ass mojito.

Took My Kids to Work Day

Living with advanced cancer is a full time job.  

These days I am thankful for my project management training, and for my general ability to multitask, because this job is the most demanding I have ever had.  I do not know how people without all of the benefits that I have are able to do this - the running/driving, the reading and detective work, the juggling appointments, the parenting/family/house stuff, trying to remain sane (at least outwardly), the costs associated with the whole thing, oh right and supposed to be resting and sleeping well in between?! wowee I am grateful to be an employed Canadian with a decent head on my shoulders and an amazing support system of family and friends.

Claire and Cass and I ripped down to Toronto yesterday, to finally meet the Endocrinologist.  What an exhausting day - worth it, but exhausting.  We just hhhaaad to stop at the Works burger restaurant in Barrie on the way home to try out those bacon and peanut butter burgers Crystal and I discovered in the fall. :-)  It was a hit, the girls loved it and we all came home stuffed. We had earned the celebratory feast, lots of power-walking around Sunnybrook yesterday, and good news to boot. 

I was able to ascertain that there are no (known) contraindications with the Ipilimumab treatment for Melanoma and the radioactive iodine therapy I will receive for Thyroid Cancer.  Which means.... I am going back to Sunnybrook on Monday Jan. 26 for my regularly scheduled Pacman treatment (YAY!), and I will be given my iodine radiation in March (I will post a separate blog about that therapy as it is a lot to absorb).

(Funny how I just said "YAY" to receiving a dose of a crazy drug in addition to another crazy chemical treatment and all the crazy invasive procedures on my body... everything is relative I guess, but if a year ago you had told me that I would one day be happy to receive stuff like that? I would have called you crazy. Maybe I'm losing it after all!?!?!)

The Endocrinologists (we met two of them, interesting dudes to say the least) answered the majority of my questions, and though I did not get quite all of the details I was hoping for (Mom did tell me to park my chair in front of the door so they couldn't leave until I was happy), I do now have the basics covered and a raft of new paperwork and appointments in my cancer portfolio.  

Most time-consuming part of the Endocrinology visit was finding the Dr.'s office. LOL That was my first time in the H wing of Sunnybrook, holy crap that place is huge.  I've been to M, A, B, D, T, and now H, though T wing (Odette Cancer Centre) still feels the most comfortable.  The girls sure got to see the whole thing, as we came in through the Main entrance and traveled the tunnels as well as the glass elevators. 

After Endocrinology we went to meet with my medical oncologist regarding the clinical trial dilemma and schedule.  She reviewed everything I got from the Endo dude and was happy that he had approved my continued participation in the trial for my saving-hope Pacmen. 

The girls were happy to meet my oncologist and couldn't help but compliment her on her fancy boots - from a fashion perspective alone the meeting was deemed a success by my biggest fans. I had my bloodwork and physical exam for the week 24 portion of my trial duties, and then we planned for the coming months.  On Monday I will have my treatment, and then Tuesday I will have my routine CT scan.  

Luckily the CT scan is a shade more than six weeks prior to the radioactive iodine treatment or else that would have changed the schedule yet again. Phew are you confused yet?  I am glad I am documenting all of this so that if I forget anything I can turn my chemo brain to my blog and remind myself!  I have updated the "Upcoming Appts." thingy to the right side of the screen too, you can see the majority of my plans through until the end of April.  Sorry Bill, I won't be back to work any time soon. :-(   

So that is my briefing on yesterday's events,  I am resting for the majority of today, feel very tired, the red nap-time sign is on the door.  Nerves are a bit high here at home in anxiety for tomorrow as well: Claire and Cass have their moles removed at Ambulatory Care in Collingwood Hospital.  Hopefully the pathology from their mole excisions will give us helpful information as to their genetic disposition for Melanoma.  

I will keep you posted... in the meantime please send good vibes to the girls around 10-11 tomorrow a.m.  I'll let you know if they end up going to school afterwards to show off their stitches?  Either way I imagine the whole thing will cost me an ice cream lunch or something equally soothing to the shattered nerves.  

I couldn't have gotten through yesterday without my daughters being with me, they are so very much my inspiration, my life raft, my teddy bear, my kick in the ass, my comic relief; the three of us just hold on tight and keep going forward.  It's all we can do.  I will refer to yesterday as "Take your kids to work day" LOL as it definitely was that! They were fully immersed in the experience, and we all sweated it out and got the job done.

Gilda's Club

The girls and I had a little adventure today, a much-needed step outside of our comfort zone and into an environment that promises warmth, friendship, and support, as we travel our "cancer journey" together.  I have been wanting to check out Gilda's Club since I heard of it during my first visit to RVH in Barrie in the spring, and finally today we made it.

Gilda’s Club grew from the dream of Gilda Radner, the comedian best known for her work on television’s Saturday Night Live. As she navigated her own journey with cancer, Gilda reclaimed her gift of laughter, learned new strategies for living with cancer and gained a feeling of control when she joined with others who also had cancer. Her vision was to create a community of hope and inspiration for people with cancer and their families and friends that would be free-of-charge.

Apparently there are only two Gilda's Clubs in Canada as of yet, one in Toronto, and wowee... one in Barrie.  :-)

Today they had a new member meeting, so we had a full tour and met staff, a volunteer, and some members.  During the orientation we were welcomed to use all of the facilities, which include a yoga room, a teen room complete with books, electronics/TV, and a piano keyboard! There is a fully equipped huge art room with tables covered in paper just ready to be created upon.  

Several washrooms including one with a gorgeous shower designed for wheelchair use, and quiet lounges with comfy couches and tranquil decor, a huge community room which is like a grand beautiful bright living room, with an open concept commercial-style kitchen and dining area, fully stocked with coffee, teas, treats, and supplies/tools for cooking any friendly feast.  It's really gorgeous.

While I attended the meeting Claire and Cass had a ball in the art room exploring and relaxing. I was so happy they loved the place too, we were all a bit nervous walking in, but as soon as we were greeted by the staff we felt right at home. I got all emotional of course, I felt there was some significance to our being there.  

I am incredibly grateful for the loving support we have from family, friends, and our community, everyone is amazing, we really lack nothing.  But this place offers a little something we can't get at home, and that's an environment in which cancer isn't such a marvel or a mystery.  At Gilda's Club you can talk about it, or you don't have to.  Everyone who is there is there because they are touched by cancer, whether they are diagnosed themselves or are family members of a cancer patient, they are there to connect. It goes unsaid. 

My main priority throughout this journey is my health of course, but also that of my daughters.  They are my life, my inspiration. I want them to be okay.  They follow my lead on pretty much everything in their lives, they always have, as we have been through many ups and downs.  I feel that with Gilda's Club I can offer them a source of support that they may rely on now and in the future.  We can go there together and it be our place to learn, grow, connect, experience our cancer-related situation, and/or just plain meet people who are in the same boat as us.  

There are many programs and activities, a full calendar of events we can sign up for and enjoy; there are "Teen Scene" events and "date night" and cooking and yoga and art classes as well as support groups for various cancer stuffs. I am looking forward to meeting people or finding out more about my disease, as every case is so unique.  

It is not a medical facility or a residential Lodge-type building, but it is coordinated by the social-work side of cancer support.  I felt a weight lift off my shoulders just walking through the door of the place. 

I took a few photos, though the girls wouldn't let me post ones of them in the pic. LOL 

 Art Room:

 

 Teen Room:

 From their website:  

"The cancer support community at Gilda’s Club is here for you and for everyone in your life, from the moment the doctor confirms the diagnosis of cancer, through the entire journey, whatever the outcome.

Our mission is to ensure that all people impacted by any cancer are empowered by knowledge, strengthened by action, and sustained by community. Because no cancer care plan is complete without emotional and social support, our innovative programs of  networking and support groups, education workshops and social activities are provided free of charge."

One of Claire's Paintings:

 

Thought I would take a moment to explain my involvement with the Royal Victoria Regional Health Centre in Barrie, to which I usually refer in my blog as "RVH, Barrie."  Why do I go there as well as Sunnybrook?  Well.. it is because, thankfully, I was referred to both when I was first diagnosed with invasive melanoma.  

Because my family doctor is in Clarksburg, and she gave me the option of Owen Sound or Collingwood for my first mole surgery, and I chose Collingwood, all of my care has been routed in that direction.  Owen Sound patients usually go toward London's Cancer Centre, Collingwood goes toward the Big Smoke.  

I was referred to both RVH and Sunnybrook.  I have a file with a Radiation Oncologist and a Medical Oncologist at the Cancer Centre at RVH, which qualifies me for social work support and additional therapy offered at that centre.  Because my melanoma is so advanced I was also referred to Sunnybrook last April, as there are some things that RVH just can't offer.  I had a built-in "second opinion team" right from the get-go, and they have definitely served as such, to my benefit.  

Sunnybrook and RVH do work together in some cases, and provide local care when possible.  I could have had my immunotherapy at RVH had I not opted for the clinical trial offered only at Sunnybrook, and had I had radiation therapy for my melanoma post-op, I would have had the option to have it at Sunnybrook or closer to home in Barrie.  

I love the city of Barrie, have spent a decent amount of time there in the past ten years, it is my go-to "city" when the girls or I need a mall fix or a rock concert.  When we moved back to Meaford almost ten years ago, it almost didn't happen as we were apartment-hunting in Barrie.  Funny how things work out, I wouldn't change my move to Meaford, but I am also very comfortable travelling around Barrie and I think it will be a happy medium country-city for the girls as they grow.  We hope to build on our many fond memories there, and I feel that Gilda's Club will be an integral part of that. 

There is no pressure to go there nor any type of special commitment required, we can just go there when we feel like it.  If I am feeling up to a trip or feel up to fitting it in between medical appointments, I can go there for additional support. Or the girls can go there while I am at an appointment at RVH (it's right beside).   

It is tough finding emotional/psychological support in the cancer field around here; CCAC provides some support but it is limited, so I feel it is important to reach out to all avenues possible.  Thank you RVH for your social work, and for the referral to Gilda's Club!

Article & Photos © Natalie Richardson 2015

Re-Calculating...

Navigating the journey of a cancer diagnosis is a bumpy ride. Hills and valleys, sharp turns and steep embankments, long flat plateaus and an exhausting climb. Damned long drive, in my experience!

Things have been pretty quiet here the last few weeks as you may have noticed.  I have been resting up from the busy holiday season, and preparing for more Toronto trips and various treatments and procedures in the next couple of months. Monday I am to have the Week 24 bloodwork, consultation with my Medical Oncologist, and IV infusion of my first in the next four ipilimumab (Pacman) doses scheduled in my participation in the clinical trial for melanoma. 

Tuesday I see my new Endocrinologist, also at Sunnybrook, to learn more about what has happened in my body since thyroidectomy.  I went yesterday to Meaford hospital for bloodwork to check my calcium serum levels and TSH/PTH etc, related to thyroid and the new thyroid hormone replacement (which I HAVE been taking religiously, as instructed, one hour PRIOR to my coffee every morning).  My family physician will send results to the Endocrinologist, and he will determine further hormone dosage, calcium supplement dosage, and radioactive iodine therapy timeline and process. 

All arrangements made, Grandma and Grandpa have the girls tonight as they are taking them to the theatre in St. Jacobs tomorrow afternoon, so then girls go to Dad's, he'll take them to school Monday etc, while I was planning to spend Sunday night with my big-city buddy from high school, as I have to be at Sunnybrook for 8am on treatment days. 

For Monday night I had booked a room at the Lodge at Princess Margaret, to check out the facility I have heard such great things about, in case of future trips ie. during radioactive iodine treatment(s)?  Staying at the hotel we have found near Sunnybrook is awesome, but this time around I feel ready to check out the Lodge option of this experience and see how that goes.  Twin rooms with roommate, shared bathrooms, free shuttle to and from Sunnybrook, and three meals included with daily room rate, sounds very cool.  I feel ready to meet some more people experiencing things as I am, and thought it might be a good opportunity to broaden my cancer horizons, so to speak.  

Everything all set, meals planned, emergency backups for the girls in place, bags packed, and POOF.  Got a call from Oncologist yesterday afternoon: she has decided to hold off on my treatment for Monday. 

She wants to wait to see what Endocrinologist says about timeline of iodine radiation therapy.  I am now six weeks post-surgery, and we had been originally told goal for this treatment was 4-6 weeks post-op.  If I have my Pacman treatment Monday and Endocrinologist deems it too risky to do iodine right after, then my Oncologist would prefer we hold off in order to give opportunity for radioactive iodine treatment first. 

Cancel visit with city friend, cancel girls' sleepover at Dads, cancel Lodge reservation, cancel cancel cancel... *sigh*

I get it..  I understand why she is holding off on the treatment, and I trust her judgement. I just don't handle the shuffle very well. I have had a relatively peaceful month resting and preparing for all of this.  I'm ready - let's do it!

All that fuss in December fearing that I would be booted from the trial over the thyroid cancer treatment, and I am right back at that spot.

The clinical trial in which I am participating has a defined timeline to which every patient must adhere, I can only assume they all do?  Must need to have some controls in place in order to properly monitor drug effects on us precious guinea pigs?  My first four treatments had to be three weeks apart, +/- three days. 

I checked my paperwork yesterday, the next four doses are to be given three months apart, +/- two WEEKS.  Sigh of relief:  two weeks, I have two weeks to play with to get my pacman treatment in if Endocrinologist approves.  Sweet.. I can work with that!  I go back to Sunnybrook on Tuesday the 27th for my three-month CT scan anyway, so I could re-book my plans and have my treatment then perhaps?  Everything depends on the thyroid stuff, have to plan for the couple weeks of quarantine etc. as well.  No problem... I have plenty of time on my hands!?!

If the timing does not work with the Endocrinologist's plan, then that's it for my melanoma treatment, I'm out. :-(

It has crossed my mind that it's too bad I hadn't been able to my pacman treatment last week or the week before, while waiting for the Endocrinologist appointment?  Or perhaps the Endocrinologist consult could have been earlier, bump that puppy up a bit being as this issue is time-sensitive??  But I digress.... 

I am seriously trying to quietly come to grips with the fact that I may have to opt out of this clinical trial.  That's bad.  But it is a possibility that I can do nothing about.  My Oncologist tried to assure me that I have had the most important of the treatments, the first four in rapid succession were the big deal, and the four maintenance doses are really just a bonus, an extra to continue to try to slow the metastases of my melanoma.  

Again, I get that, but I would be more comfortable with that suggestion if they could tell me they know they got it.  The trouble with this melanoma is that it is the sneaky-sneakerson of the cancer family... one of those silent killers that is intangible; it cannot be measured nor detected or tracked, nor placed into what is commonly known as remission. 

SO.  There.. short story made into a long one, thanks for listening.  All I know right now is that I am going to see my family Dr. on Monday to discuss my list of questions for the Endocrinologist and get my bloodwork results to take to Toronto with me.  And Tuesday I will head out to meet the Endocrinologist himself, in the main wing of Sunnybrook, then head over to the Odette Cancer Centre to discuss the whole thing with my Medical Oncologist.  I will be home Tuesday evening. And I will have a lot more information at that time.

If you're still with me on this long-winded monologue, I'd like to share a few things I have learned about the trial drug I have been taking.  Until now I have kept a pretty tight lid on Google and I have not been permitted - or willing - to independently read up on my situation (in fact, I have a friend specially dedicated to being my personal researcher if something I'm told sounds just too wonky to comprehend - I text my friend and she is expert at looking it up and sugar-coating whatever reply she deems plausible to satisfy my inquiry).  Well, since my treatment cancellation call yesterday I have found a bunch of stuff about ipilimumab, highlights include:

• Ipilimumab is a type of immunotherapy known as a monoclonal antibody. A monoclonal antibody is a man-made version of an immune system protein that fits like a lock and key with a certain protein in the body.  Ipilimumab is designed to seek out and lock onto CTLA-4, a protein that normally helps keep immune system cells called T cells in check. By blocking the action of CTLA-4, ipilimumab is thought to boost the immune response against melanoma cells in the body.  (source)
• Ipilimumab works by stimulating T-cells in the body’s immune system. T-cells help to fight cancer and disease. CTLA-4 is a molecule found on the surface of T-cells and it switches them off. Ipilimumab blocks CTLA-4 so that the T-cells stay switched on and active and can attack the cancer cells. (source)
• Yervoy - Ipilimumab website
• Yervoy - Ipilimumab - Canada:  The medicinal ingredient in YERVOY is ipilimumab. What the important nonmedicinal ingredients are: Tris-hydrochloride, sodium chloride, mannitol, diethylene triamine pentaacetic acid (DTPA) and polysorbate 80.
• The cost of the drug itself, the four treatments I have had, are approximately $120,000.00 to date.   Holy moly- grateful to be Canadian.  Imagine if I lived in the States?  The cost of the drug plus the surgeries I have had, CT Scans etc... yikes.  Unfathomable. 

Just a small update, Mon. Jan. 19, 2015: 
In response to my comments in this post about why couldn't I have had my Pacman treatment sometime in the last two weeks? I was gently reminded today that they wouldn't have allowed me to have my treatment any sooner than today's scheduled infusion, due to my recent thyroid surgery. DUH I guess it slipped my mind that I am still recovering from thyroid surgery, only six weeks out.

Right.. yes, how quickly we forget. Though I don't know how I could forget, it still feels like I am wearing a very tight scarf at all times! Though I am happy to report that my mobility is better and the scar is healing well, with just a bit of lymphedema in the left side of my neck and under my chin. Anyway, just thought I would add that. I was not criticizing or questioning my Oncologist as much as I was berating myself for not having thought of asking her to have my treatment sooner.

This cancer journey is such a balancing act of self-directed participation constantly questioning your care, AND, being patient/listening/doing as you're told/just hoping you don't slip through the cracks. 

 

Article & Photos © Natalie Richardson 2015

Happy New Year

Wow 2015!  Cliche to say this but I don't know how it is 2015 already... doesn't seem that long ago I was living in Cambridge and elaborately decorating our glittering dining table for the turn of the century dinner party we were hosting with neighbours- woohoo 2000!!  Married, no kids, two-storey house in the burbs, sunroof in my car, socking away lots of cash making scads of money in the tech sector in Waterloo... my how times change!  LOL

Cliche again but I find myself reflective this couple of days into the new year.  Quietly reflective, not exactly my usual yay-it's-a-new-start self.  

I love New Year's Eve, it is my favourite holiday of the year, right beside birthdays.  I love the celebration of life, of birth perhaps, new birth and fresh fallen snow... on goals and attitudes, fresh outlook and a new start. Everyone does I'm sure? 

Though many people I spoke with this year said nah it's just another night who cares I was sleeping by 9.  Blasphemy!  I just couldn't do that, no matter how tired I am I have to see the New Year in. That's just me though, and if you're near me at midnight on January 1 you will be sure to get an enthusiastic kiss and loud cheering and sparkling wine toasts and love for your presence in my vicinity - whether you like it or not! ;-)

Now we're done the toasting and the roasting, I am resting and recuperating. Lots of fun this holiday season, lots of kids, family, friends, lots of food and drink, and not much thinking about reality.  It was a lovely break, and I am pleased that I managed to make all the gatherings and events we had lined up. Scott's company party, saw our Milner family and our Lambe family, and were the benefactors of many gifts of food and laughter - thank you everyone! 

The girls got together and got me a very creative and thoughtful gift, a beautiful scarf bearing my favourite slogan "Peace & Love" with an additional thought-provoking message:

We all got a few treats for Christmas, and I have some pictures of our favourites, I even managed to get a photo of all five of us (the first one on record I think?) during our gift of a turkey feast from my dear family/friends in Toronto. Veselych Sviat! xoxoxo

Spa day gift from a friend, Moms with matching toes 

and daughters with fancy foil manis! :-)

My new discovery, cinnamon tequila, a lovely replacement for the 

famed anti-freeze-containing Fireball...yummmm:

The girls' gingerbread house, short life it had but oooh tasty! :-)

I would like to thank everyone who contributed to our fabulous holiday in deed or gift, from Bill's valu-mart to McGuinty's Cafe and Simply Unique Flowers & Gifts, from Scotiabank to the Post Office, and all the way to Solitudes Day Spa - from my family to all of yours a sincere and heartfelt thank you for everything!  We cannot thank our community enough for all of the support you have given us. 

Thanks also for all of the wonderful wishes in cards, texts, emails  - among all of the well-wishes I gave and received for a happy and healthy new year, one of my faves was a wish for a "surgery-free 2015!"  LOL I am still chuckling over that and yes thank you I too am hoping for a surgery-free 2015. For myself, and for all of my wonderful friends and family. 

Back to the grind on Monday for all of us in a way, kids back to school (can you hear the grrrooans in the background?), Scott back to work, me back to appointments and back to serious consideration of how to handle everything now that it is a new year.  How to cope with my current recovery from 2014 health events and how to prepare for further medical therapies in January and February.  How to get back to feeling tip-top and prepare for the idea of going back to work at some point?  How to not panic that I am approaching the one-year mark since my melanoma diagnosis? And how to be grateful that it is just the beginning of the rest of my life, and I will just have to continue taking it one day at a time, as I have always done.  

Happy New Year everyone, and Thank You, 

Love...

 

(Claire received cake decorating supplies for Christmas so... 

let us eat cake!) :-)