Chemo Round 2

Day 35 since diagnosis. Round 2 of the first chemo treatment. Kicking cancer in the can. Feeling like being more graphic and angry about what I want to do to cancer. Learning that there are many like-minded folks out there. But maybe I'm just mad that I had to write income tax checks. I'm sure there are many like-minded folks out there for that too. Liz update on the way, but first, some updates on our little men.

Cohen is amazing with Eli -- a natural babysitter and so caring for his little brother. I covertly snapped a photo this morning:

Rough day for both boys, though. So glad that Melissa (Liz's sister) came in last night. She's great with the boys and is handling their transitional drama like a pro. I love this picture she took while the boys waited for the bus.

Check out Jensen's mischievous grin. She was fortunate enough to snap another photo of Jensen immediately thereafter. He was in a bad mood today:

Jensen's birthday is in 10 short days. He wants a school bus party. Don't know what that is. But he wants school bus cookies and a mail truck cake ("for Maria!" -- she delivers the mail, and Jensen basically thinks she's a superhero). And we want to get him a big boy bed. He's not a fan of the idea. Colossal 3-year old meltdown assured. Don't worry, I'll record the whole thing.

We bought a juicer. Because some say it can really help, and because we don't want to ever say "we wish we would have..." And I made this today out of organic apples, carrots, spinach, and kale. Yes, it looks terrible, but it actually wasn't bad. I'm not sure we'll ever get to the veggie-only juicing stages, but at least it's a start. I did try to make orange juice last week with Cohen. That was a disaster. Cohen took the first big drink, looked at me and said, "Dad, I think something's wrong." Indeed it was.

We're home now. Liz is trying to rest, I'm typing this here blog, Melissa is saving everyone's sanity by playing with the boys at the park, and I'm nominating myself for father of the year by helping baby Eli see how well he can completely fill up the far-too-small-even-for-his-short-legs baby swing.

Now back to Liz. We've had a good day, actually. In fact, I can assert that it has been a 'cancer great' day. She felt reasonably well and strong. Probably her magic Braves hat I picked up for her last year at a conference in Atlanta. Fitting, though -- she is brave.

The nurses drew blood from Liz's new port. Amazing technology... She hardly felt a prick, they drew blood and attached the IV lines to the port, and we can save her arms and hands from needle torture. Great news: her blood levels are all normal! Tomorrow they'll let us know her liver enzyme levels and breast cancer blood marker levels. The Doc is confident that the liver enzymes will be normal (like they were at the end of Liz's hospital stay), and he's certain that the breast cancer blood markers will be lower than when they tested them prior to the first round of chemo. He is convinced that the medicine is working, and Liz really feels like it is as well. So he didn't need to reduce the potency of her chemotherapy (Herceptin, Perjeta, Taxotere), and he just added 2 new medications: Xgeva shot once every 4 weeks to make sure her bones stay strong to prevent any cancer growth, and Neulasta the day after each chemo treatment to boost her white blood cell count. We felt really good about today.

The exhaustion and chemo fog will likely intensify starting tonight and into tomorrow, and they'll be around for the bulk of this week. So don't be offended if she doesn't personally respond to your texts or emails or calls, and don't be shocked if you hear from me instead. Keep the prayers and happy thoughts coming -- we can sense your support and I'm convinced that it helps.

Go Team Liz!