all things 3

I have a 3 year old.

She is a monster right now. 

A cute monster, but still, a monster.

3 is not my favorite age. 

It is not my favorite number. 

It is not my favorite time of the afternoon, (or morning if we are being real). 

It's just kind of not my number. 

And I like odd numbers. 

You know how you are supposed to arrange things in 3's. 

I do love my 3 hanging baskets that are on my front porch right now. 

and  usually 3 is about the number of miles I can make it when I run, but I prefer to look at it as a 5k, not 3.1 miles, because you know 5k just sounds like I went a lot farther, right? I digress. 

Anyway, 3 is also the number of months that I live. 

Not the number of months that I have to live.  Don't be concerned.
It is the number of months I live at a time. 

It is the number of months in-between each scan.  

I don't really like 3's.

We have talked about scans before.  They are pretty much old news now. 

Anxiety each time? yep. always, but sort of used to it.  

You know when you go to a big city or a fancy hotel (do you guys do that, go to big cities with fancy hotels?) how they have those revolving doors. The ones that automatically move and you just stand there, until it is your exit....like a roundabout door.  Maybe that is what they are called?! Anyway, and then it spits you out on the other side -- the side where you can move forward, walk into the building/hotel etc....just like you want to.

Well, I feel like I am constantly in one of those revolving door things -- and I am never sure quite where it is going to spit me out.  (speaking of spitting, my 3 year old mentioned above, ya, she is quite into spitting lately.  It's great).

Sometimes I get spit out where I want to be and sometimes I am back right at the entrance, or so it seems, and sometimes I am just going around and around and around and around wondering if and when I can get out.

As of the last scan (about a month ago), there had still been very little growth, if any.  A couple worrisome areas that they are going to watch -- and a bout with pneumonia and a partially collapsed lung, but the cancer is stable. 

Stable in cancer is like a silver medal, a second place finish.
I would like to aim for the gold, but that is probably like me trying to qualify to run the Boston marathon at this point in my life.  Not. going. to. happen.
(but if you haven't listened to this podcast I did for the AF Canyon Run against cancer, you should and then you should sign up to run with our team....more details coming in a different post).https://www.brooksee.com/afc/blog/1465366?host=afc


Anyway, because it is stable they have started me on a sort of different chemo cocktail. (when you call it a cocktail it makes it sound like you are on a warm exotic island drinking something delicious -- they try to trick you like that, when in reality this cocktail is nothing delicious or fun or exotic at all -- at least in my opinion).

This cocktail includes me taking chemo at home.
I have to wear disposable gloves (I mean what am I putting into my body if I can't even touch it, but that is a whole separate blogpost which I will probably never write, because I'm kind of getting behind on the blog).  
And I take 3 pills 2x a day for 2 weeks.
Then I get a week off and start again.
So, a 3 week cycle.  (see how everything is in 3's right now).
I am really hoping that this helps me to have a little more freedom and quality of life this summer to travel and spend time with family and friends.  I will still go in to meet with my doctor and do infusion every three weeks, but just won't have to take the pump home with me.  HALLELUJAH!!

No more jumping with the pump.....don't be too sad, okay!? I will still do crazy stuff. Now I am jumping for joy to not have a pump connected to me for 48 hours.    

This is my first week on the new drug (day 7 actually) and so far it isn't my favorite.
If I was to pick chemo side effects they would have nothing to do with puking and poop and mouth sores and such and everything to do with beauty and happiness and love.

 (and sexiness....I think Eric would like a little of that in our lives.  We are running sort of low on sexy here).  

So, bottom line is that we are still kicking it over here in Oregon.  
Doing our best and sometimes most of the time falling apart as we continue to circle around in our life that revolves all too much around cancer and chemo and doctor appointments.

But, I am alive and that my friends is something to be grateful for.

  (and if you aren't grateful I am alive I am not sure why you are reading this blogpost).