Monday: "Wow! Am I ever happy THIS day is over!"

Yep! Those are the very words our patient uttered as we headed south on the freeway toward the barn this evening. (My car knows the way from the Huntsman Cancer Center to my house by heart now. No need to use the steering wheel.)

Lo-o-o-o-ng day! In our twelve hours there li'l' ol' Gretchie-Poo:

1) Had surgery
2) Had a heart test
3) Had a CT scan from knees to chin.

Short recap:

1) Surgery to insert the port just under her left clavicle that will be left there until the first of April when her chemo ends. Beats the heck outta having an IV started every other week when she begins chemo a week from tomorrow.

2) The heart test (nuclear medicine) took about three hours and tested the contractability of her heart. Gretchen's oncologist told us that the heart is sometimes in danger of being damaged by chemo. This test gives her (Dr. Buys) a baseline to track possible damage. (Br-r-r --- my own heart suddenly went cold at the very thought.)

3) Two quarts of barium later . . . the CT scan tested for possible metastasis that may already have taken place. Notice the cavalier way I typed that? That's because I refuse to acknowledge anything so dastardly could already have happened. Nope. Uh-uh. Nada.

"Super Gretch" asked me to take her home this evening. She said she could take care of herself tonight because she's aware I'm wa-a-a-a-y behind in my Turkey Day weekend houseguests preparations, and she'd be just fine.

Too bad.

I stopped by her house, locked her in her seatbelt, picked up her mail, her drugs, and her toothbrush . . . and brought her home!

So there.

She's now lying in the guestroom bed listening to her iPod and licking the dregs from her plate of the delicious beef stroganoff that thoughtful Alan made for us. And sadly, we must keep the excitable Miss Polly off her bed -- that little black fur-person just gets too spastic for our patient.

Miz Fegel is pretty darned sore from yet two more chest incisions for the port. As I just now snipped the plastic hospital ID bracelet from her arm, I asked, "So, Gretchie-Poo, have you been keeping track of how many of these I've cut off your wrists in the past several years?" No guesses.

Again, we're grateful for your many thoughts, prayers, invitations, good deeds, cards (Dayle, yours just crack us up!), emails, treats, etc. YOU are what keeps that girl going.

On to Phase II.

Chemo.

Loss of hair, yes . . .

. . . but not of spirit.

Monday huggies to you all,
Lindy-Lou the Mom

PS -- Miz Mary Beesley -- I just can't thank you enough for the truly fun jewelry-making party you invited us to last eve. AND the photo session (FOUR photographers!) you organized last week to capture the final locks of You-Know-Who. It's thoughtful people like you who warm the cockles of so many hearts . . .