Halfway done

Round 3 of chemo administered this past Monday. The doc will likely do 6 rounds (maybe more, but we're choosing selective hearing at the moment), so if my advanced math skills are correct, then we just passed the halfway point. Sweet.


Taxotere dosage was reduced by 25%. Liz's hands and feet can't take both barrels any more. But she opts for temporary miserabality (yeah, I made that up) for the hope of a long, symptom-free remission. She's already on maintenance doses of Perjeta and Herceptin. Things is lookin' good. Yes, I mean 'cancer good', but that's better than 'cancer bad', which somehow sounds like a worse bad than regular bad, while 'cancer good' is a not-as-good version of good. Let me be clear: Liz doesn't feel well. Hands... feet... knees... insomnia... But it seems like things is lookin' purty darn good.

Monday's blood work showed that her liver enzymes are all 'completely normal' (woo-hoo!) and the breast cancer markers continue to go down (awwwww yeah). In fact, based again on the calculator built into my phone on my advanced math skills and way too much time spent formatting this tiny table because it's too hard to focus at 2am especially when my mind is blown as I must pick between Duck Dynasty, NOVA, Lockdown, America Unearthed, He-Man (yeah, I said it), and Judge Judy a quick data dump into Excel, CEA is in normal range, and CA27-29 is just barely outside of normal range. I would have written the previous sentence in gigantic font, all caps, multi-color, with lots of exclamation points, if my Managerial Writing professor hadn't told me that's a bad idea.

The most important thing about these markers is that they just need to keep going down. The chemo treatments are working.

We asked the doc about Liz's chemo fog during the first 10 days of round 1. Best answer ever: "That was most likely caused by her body processing all of the material ejected from exploding cancer cell walls. The treatment is working." Awesome. 

Refreshing to hear, especially from the doctor who wouldn't tell us at diagnosis if he thought Liz had weeks or months left. And, for the first time, he referenced the long-term: "We'll go through this treatment cycle, then if the cancer comes back after a few years, we'll know what to do next. In the meantime, new medicines and treatments are being approved regularly. Although I can't predict the future, I'm hopeful." Finally.

All of this talk about exploding cell walls reminds me of a particularly disgusting—yet strangely appropriate—Team Liz logo:

My only favorite sister Becky (or 'Rebecca' to those more sophisticated than I) swooped in to save us this week. We are so glad that she's here. The boys all took to her immediately when they woke up Monday morning. Whew. I just hope that Cohen and Jensen don't tell her what we we've been saying about her. Loose lips sink ships.

Liz got a haircut from her barber stylist hairdresser Kristina Khristeenuh Criss-tina Christina the day after chemo. "No, really, I'm not kidding, really, she did, I'm not kidding, I'm telling the truth, I promise, really." (Cohen is in my head.) Not all of the hair is gone on her perfectly shaped head, and it was starting to get longish, at least for a gorgeous bald lady (1/8"). I sat in the car since I'm a dude and I'm hard-wired to be uncomfortable going to the salon and arranged a second opinion at the University of Chicago School of Medicine and Doctors Who Know Stuff Etc. Hung up just as me lady exited with an even prettier dome. Super high fives to the greatest Christina, greatest hairdresser person of all time, and I believe she's currently accepting appointments to cut all of the hairs on your head to your preferred length. (Did you read that, Christina? Was that good enough? Probably not if I misspelled your name... But, you are awesome. Let's drum you up some business!)

Church folk are arranging lawn mowing for the summer, friends from church and work and ND are helping with meals, we have had cleaners at our home twice now, and we sense all of your thoughts and prayers. Thank you. We love and appreciate all of the help. I'm learning not to feel as guilty about it all, but I'm still a work in progress...obviously. We just hope that all of the help won't be needed after a few more months.

We're halfway done, after all.

Go Team Liz.

Howie's latest Team Liz worldwide logo submission