Fictitious Numbers

Are you serious people?! As of this moment, according to my little poll on the right, fully 88% of you think a jillion is more than a zillion! I mean, come on! A zillion is clearly more! I mean, it has a Z in it for heaven's sake. Anything starting with a Z obviously has to be more than something starting with a mere and paltry J. I mean, please. You can't be serious.

ok, I gotta get more votes here. All you who haven't noticed the poll up till now, you have to weigh in for me. (Also, if you don't vote for zillion I'm going to lose my bet with Jared. I am loathe to lose a bet with Jared, so think about this before you vote! The logical answer is SO a zillion!)

Merry Christmas!

(click anywhere below to see original size)

Lame Things That Happen Sometimes

Last night my car was broken into for the second time in as many months. Thankfully I had no purse, wallet, or ipod in there. They did, however, get some random things, including my diaper bag, so they made away with some pretty sweet #2 Huggies. I'm not sure of the street value on something like that, but they pretty much scored. Actually, in all seriousness, the diaper bag had these ( --> ) very cute baby sunglasses in it, for which I paid no small sum at Janie and Jack last summer (my one summer splurge, and the only thing I can afford at Janie and Jack). So then my ho hum attitude about them not getting anything worth much faded as I started to mentally add up what they DID get, that is valuable not to them, but to me. It goes something like this:

Bob Diaper Bag: $75
Huggies, Scented Bags, Wipes and Wipe Dispenser, Hand Sanitizer, A Toy or Two, Pacifier, etc: $15?
Set of Three TyBooks: $38
Velvet Handbag for formal evenings: $40?
My favorite lipstick: $25
My favorite lipliner: $30
Seville's Sunglasses: $13
Christmas Presents for Jared: $26.99
Box of Avery Labels: $28.99
Stamps: $26.70
The Last of my Christmas Letters: $5
Envelopes: $5
Custom Return Address Stamp: $30

TOTAL: Approx. $359. And that's not including stuff I haven't realized they got yet and Jared's relatively new iPod that was stolen a couple months ago (another $400).

CURSE THOSE THIEVES!! I hate thieves. That's not Christlike, I know, but I have to wonder if they'll look at our Christmas letter and see that they stole from someone who has cancer and a baby. Probably not. I don't think they'd care anyway.

Anyway, all this is to say that if you don't get a Christmas letter from us, it's probably because you were one of the stragglers whose address I didn't confirm until a couple days ago, and then yours was stolen. Since I probably won't be visiting Kinkos in the next days, I will post our letter for all to see (I was gonna post it right here, but then I realized that's not a very Christmassy introduction, and don't want a downer "Merry Christmas" post. So I'll post it on Christmas Eve or something, when I'm not feeling bitter and we've all had some time to calm down.

Gluttonous Cute Pictures

This is the view I get while brushing my teeth. And rather frequently throughout the day actually (can ya stand it?).

Seville in her Christmas Dress. It was a gift that's been in her closet since I was pregnant. I love how foofy it is! (I know. I'm eating my pre-baby words.)

Here is a terrible picture and you can't see much, but it is Jared's head: he is growing little hairs. The funny thing about his hair re-growth is this: I expected that when it grew back whiskers would be whiskers, hair would be hair, etc. Not so! Everything is a fine, soft, baby-hair-like peach fuzz, no matter where on his body it is. And it's blonde! So he has hair on his face that's like a little kid's, and the hair on his head is super super soft and white. We had heard that it may come in a different color or curly or something. It's not long enough to tell yet, but we'll see.

Seville Meets Her First Skunk

And since she loves all animals, she immediately took to him, having no sense of a normal adult's hesitation.

Here she is trying to pet him (Toby). Holding him is Kadra (my brother's girlfriend).

(yes, she's wearing real silk and velvet - a holiday outfit my parents brought home from Beijing a few weeks ago. Fancy, huh?)

Toby belongs to some friends of ours, and this was the first time we met him too. He's actually very cute (anything that uses its hands to eat gets bonus points on the cute-o-meter). And never fear - he's been "de-scented" - so in the picture above where he is pointing his little skunk butt and tail at Seville, he is actually harmless.

A Family of Geniuses

My family is full of geniuses (just call us the Pixton-Tenenbaums). First Amy with the TyBooks, then Clay with this idea! I got an email from him today. I was so impressed with his idea, I had to share:

Guys! I have an awesome idea for a new product/invention (Amy thinks she's so smart with TyBook). You know us men and fathers of multiples have our pet peeves too, and as they say, pet peeves are the mother of invention. Anyway, my pet peeve is never being able to find one of the three cordless phones we have in the house without scrambling all around in a panic when it rings, trying to listen to it, not finding it in any likely places, yelling at my kids to be quiet, waiting for the next ring, etc. Who wants to go through that every time the phone rings? Not me. I don't believe any man does.

But I've thought of a solution, and I believe technology has just reached the point that it can happen. I'm going to invent a phone that is physically tied to a spot in the house. That's right, it can no longer get lost! Just follow the string, and there you go! Piece of cake. But did you think I was going to use just any string? No, it will be a rubberized, curly retractable string, to minimize tangling (I'm a genius!). Never again will we have to hunt for a ringing phone!!! To make things even more convenient, I will make it with a hook on the base part, with a special sensor, so that if it ISN'T on the hook it will beep loudly until you put it back! Foolproof!!

This phone does everything, you're thinking. But I haven't even told you my best most revolutionary feature. This phone's battery will never die! That's right, it will NEVER DIE, because hidden inside the curly cord will be a tiny wire that carries the signal from the phone to the actual phone lines. No need for a battery! (Books for babies--HA! This will revolutionize the WORLD!!!) To top it off I will make it in a stylish black with a nice big handle for ergonomics (instead of today's dinky little things that just get lost in between couch cushions like a quarter), with a nice prominent round mouthpiece and earpiece, permanently affixed so you don't have to even open it! Talk about easy!

Now just when you thought I've thought of it all and then some, haven't you ever accidentally hung up on your conversation-mate because your face pressed a button, or pressed a button and it beeped and the person on the other end asked if you were still there, or you accidentally quick-dialed some number and you can't figure out what's going on and your conversation is basically ruined? Well no more! Because with this new phone (look out, iPhone) the buttons are all on the part that's connected to your wall or sitting on your desk! So that will never again be a problem! (I'll be accepting investments immediately.)

Speaking of Apple products I plan to roll out a model with an extremely easy-to-use user interface which consists of a kind of scroll wheel, except a physical, three-dimentional one that you can put your fingers in, to dial numbers. Kind of like an iPod, only more up to date. Truly ahead of its time. But like I always say, where there's a will, there's a way, and the brilliant minds of our day drive technology and advancement to new heights.

So that's my new invention. Please keep this a secret for now, as I'll be soon entering the process of applying for patents, etc. (Jared, I'll be giving you a call.) But I wanted you all to be able to share in my excitement. Do let me know what you think!

Clay

Wanted!

Wanted!
Under Penalty of Law!
The Evidence:

The Crime:

So, the other evening I found the above item in Seville's diaper bag. Alarmed at being in possession of such incriminating evidence I asked Jared, "what the heck is this?"

There was a big sigh. Then, "I'll tell you what that is..." he said, and proceeded to fill me in on the dreadful details.

That afternoon Seville accompanied us to a meeting with our mortgage broker. Having her along wasn't our first choice, but she's a really good kid. We figured she could crawl around his office while we chatted about grown-up things. Of course, she mostly wanted to crawl around on our legs and under our chairs, despite the acres of office available to her that were not riddled with wooden, sharp-cornered, obstructive furniture. Still... she did pretty ok. OR SO I THOUGHT!

Turns out that while I excused myself to powder my nose, Jared was talking to Mr. Broker and looked down to see that Seville had torn half of the 'DO NOT REMOVE' tag from underneath Mr. Broker's fancy guest-chair that Jared was sitting in. Mr. Broker couldn't see this, because he was behind his fancy voluminous mahogany desk. Jared, embarrassed at her behavior or his lack of paying attention or something, nonchalantly hid the evidence in the diaper bag under some cheerios and a stuffed bear. As he bent down, to his horror, he saw that the other half of said evidence was dangling for all to see from underneath his nether-regions. Seeing as he had already begun to weave the tangled web (how do you explain half the tag hanging, the other half deep in your diaper bag?) he tried to carry on the conversation as if nothing was happening, while using one hand to silently wrench the rest of the tag -- illegally, I might add -- from the fancy chair. What Mr. Broker thought Jared was doing so heartily with his hand under his derriere I can only guess. But he was either professional enough to act like he didn't notice or else he was oblivious enough really not to. By the time I re-entered the room, the crime was complete.

I wonder... if Seville commits anything more serious as a young adult, will she manage to get daddy wrapped up in that one too?

The Criminal Record:

Surveillance cameras also caught the suspect below:

Removing EVERY SINGLE pink tissue from the box while I was on the phone (the pink ones are my favorite, and you can't find them all the time. sniff) Obviously, it was too cute to stop her.

Giving Thanks

Last week I was telling a friend that Jared's scans came back clean, that he was in "clinical remission" and we're very relieved and happy. He said, "you have a lot to be thankful for this year!" (referring to Thanksgiving). Of course, I agreed, but added, "as does anyone. And how much more thankful, those who did NOT have cancer before becoming healthy, right?" "Good point." he said.

Which made me think about how we tend to be most thankful for our day-to-day lives after something has upset them. It's always a crisis that makes us appreciate the little things. I'm not sure that I like the idea of imagining all the bad things that could happen in order to appreciate the blessings you have now, but somehow it seems necessary sometimes.

So this is a reminder to me and everyone to give thanks for the things you normally take for granted. Thank God for your health today. Thank God for your family, your home, your job, your car, your friends, your country, your freedom, your faith, your body, your mind, your education, your opportunity, your hair, your feet, your fully-functional pinky finger. Thank God for all.

And thank you all, readers and friends, for everything you've done for us. It's made a world of difference. I explained to my family on Thanksgiving that the help we received didn't play out like lots of different bits of help. It played out like everyone contributing to a collective pool of support that carried us forward through this ordeal. Thus little and big things alike were essential to making it. We really can't thank everyone enough.

First Steps!

Thanksgiving morning Seville took her FIRST STEPS!! With a little coaxing from daddy she struck out and a step toward him. He tried again and got three whole steps! Of course we freaked out on her and are soooo proud!

Since we were with family these last couple days (mine), everyone wanted to see the miracle, and within48 hours she was stepping up a storm, going as many as 10 contiguous steps at a time. She thinks she's a total rockstar. And she acts like it's so much fun -- you'd think she was snowboarding or something (that will come, my precious, that will come. Mommy will see to it.)

(This is all very exciting, but like the crawling thing, also scary. How soon will she be just tramping around the house?)

I'll have to get the video off my Dad's camera for you. But in the meantime, trust me. It was awesome.

Cured!

Well, it's official. I'm cured - or as the medical people put it, I'm in "clinical remission." Cancer's gone. It's time to get back to normal life - whatever "normal" is - I'm not sure I really know anymore. But I am happy about everything. I never had any doubts that my treatment would be successful, but it is great to know that it's officially over.

Those of you still following this blog know that I haven't personally posted anything in a really long time. The last chemo treatment and the subsequent recovery period took a lot out of me. But more than that, in the last several weeks it has been difficult trying to make the transition from cancer patient to normal person. My biggest mistake is that I tried to make the transition too soon. I figured that I'd be my normal self within a few short weeks after the last round of chemo. I was wrong. So, I've taken the last couple of weeks to really just lay low and let my body (and my mind) recover from all the chaos it's been through in the last several months.

Perhaps my biggest discovery is that after 4-6 months of inactivity, inactivity has become the status quo in my life. I kind of feel like I have to learn how to be a normal, functioning member of society all over again. It took me roughly 20-some odd years the first time - hopefully it won't take that long the second time. I'm back at work, re-involving myself in church-related activities, and trying to be helpful at home. I still need to figure out how to find time for exercise, leisure and paying the bills. It's kind of a slow process, but bit by bit I'll get there. It's hard, but it's not dramatic-hard like cancer. It's boring-hard.

I almost feel like I need to say goodbye to all of you. I mean, this blog isn't going to die or anything - Skye is a faithful and dedicated blogger. But to be totally honest, I'm not sure that I have it in me to be a true blogger. Providing cancer updates was a compelling reason for me to post - I appreciated the fact that people wanted to know how I felt and how I was doing. But now, I'm not so sure I have any particular messages for the world. I don't know. I obviously want to stay in touch with people - I'm just not convinced that blogging is the right forum for me to do that. We'll see - I'll keep an open mind about it and see where it takes me. Maybe I'll leave the family updates to Skye (since she's good at that and I think she likes to do it) and I'll post random thoughts on occasion. Actually, at some point in the near future, I'll probably post some post-cancer thoughts and reflections. So, stay tuned if you're interested.

Anyhow, I guess I am saying goodbye in the sense that I'm saying goodbye to cancer and goodbye to posting updates about my fight against it. There's no more fight. It's over. I win. Today is a good day.

Keeping Our Fingers Crossed

Jared has a series of scans tomorrow. They're to tell us whether/how well the chemo worked and whether there's any cancer left in Jared's body (no=very good, yes=very bad). I'm pretty sure that the way modern medicine works, the radiologist won't tell him anything about them, and we'll have to wait until our appointment on Wednesday with the Oncologist. Still, I'm hoping for some good news.

Autumn Leaves

Her first time in a leaf pile. And one of the best afternoons of my life.

Halloween!

We didn't hold our planned party on Halloween because we both came down with a crazy sudden fever this week. Thankfully we already got to party at my friend's haunted mansion last weekend:

Indian Summer

Every October in Oregon we get a sweet Indian Summer. Jared hasn't been up for any serious outdoor activities yet, but we did celebrate with some simple family-style outdoor fun.

Jared naps in the park. Seville tries to eat Halloween Candy through the wrapper (not this year. sorry, kid.)

Still making a go at that candy.

We even took Seville on the youth Corn Maze outing on Saturday. Can you believe all that blue sky?

"We're not lost! I swear!"

Seville doesn't really get the "head in the hole" concept.

First Tooth!

On Friday Seville joined the ranks of people who need dentists (I'm sure my brother-in-law, Jason, will be pleased)(he's a 4th year dental student). As a mom, I'm super excited about anything new, so I'm sooooo proud of her for cutting a tooth! I'm also a little sad. The days of the toothless baby are o'er. (Also I know that the biting of certain of my body parts is almost inevitable, so I'm a little on edge now.)


okay, you have to look reeeeally closely to see it, but I swear it's there! It's just a little nub. But it's a sharp little bugger!

I hope my efforts in getting this picture are appreciated, by the way. Jared thought I was crazy and that I'd never catch it. I almost thought he was right. Here's a sampling of the about 50 thousand pictures I took before the one with the tooth in it.

(I know. This is a neurotic parental post. Bear with me here)

On the Up and Up

Since Jared hasn't managed to post yet, I thought I'd fill in the curious.

The few days after chemo are always rotten for Jared. But they get gradually better and better. And this time, they'll just get better and better... and better... and better, etc. Celebrity Dr. Nichols says it takes roughly a month to get to 90% recovery (what about the last 10%? He didn't mention it. I wonder if it's like that last 10% of your pregnant weight that takes ages and ages to get rid of-?). Anyway, Jared should be able to eat like a horse come Thanksgiving. And hopefully he'll also be able to play football. And go to work. And do fun things. And give me foot rubs (did I say that out loud?).

As for lasting effects, there are a couple potential ones, and we'll just have to wait and see. He has some nerve damage and is losing feeling in his hands and feet. It was severe enough last week that they adjusted his drug regimen to try and minimize further damage, but it got worse anyway. Apparently your nerves generally recover in 6-12 months, but it sounded like if it gets bad, it could possibly be a permanent problem. We'll keep our fingers crossed (even though Jared can't feel his. ha ha! just kidding. that was morbid. sorry. Our lives are a black comedy lately and sometimes it leaks). Anyway, that and fertility. I guess we have to wait 6-12 months to find out whether he has any boys left after all this.

"But is he cured?" is the question I'm sure you're all asking (guessing based on live conversations). Again, we have yet to find that out too. In about a month they'll do another set of scans, and then we'll talk to Celebrity Dr. Nichols about what he sees. Hopefully nothing. Except a shell of a tumor (which apparently takes a long time to go away, even once the cancer is stopped). And then we'll have periodic scans for many years to come. As of now, though, we have every expectation that they'll find zero cancerous activity in a month, and we'll live happily ever after.

One More Time

One! Tomorrow is Jared's final treatment. I'm pretty sure he's not much looking forward to going down there to have it done (anybody know a guy named Guido I can hire in case I have to pry Jared out of the house and into the car? j/k), but it's nice to have the end in sight, and we both can't wait for all of this to be over.

We'll let you know how it goes. Wish him luck!

Mmmmmm... finger lickin' good!

Before putting Seville down for her nap today I noticed I hadn't quite got all the oatmeal off her face. Since my hands were occupied (holding her), I just thought I'd give her a kiss right where the oatmeal was (on her forehead) and suck it off. It was a stubborn, sticky little glob, and I had to resort to some firm licking to try and dislodge it -- at which point I noticed that something was wrong. It was... salty... and... stickier than oatmeal... with a... strange viscosity.... and....!!!!! Suddenly it became clear that it was not oatmeal but a booger!! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwww! I sucked and licked a booger off my baby's face! Gross!!! That's what I get, I guess, for resorting to actually licking my baby's face instead of using a napkin or washcloth or, heck, even a finger, like a normal mom.

This still doesn't beat my sister-in-law's story, by the way. Though other people's boogers are thoroughly disgusting, I'll admit somewhat shamefully that I'm not very intimidated by my own. In the course of my childhood I must have eaten gallons of my own boogers. Still, somehow someone else's boogers, even your own child's, feels totally repulsive. There are, however, other things which are far worse.

The Days After Round 5

For all my belly-aching on Wednesday night, I'm doing pretty well this morning. Dr. Nichols determined that I was trying to be too much of a tough guy in avoiding my anti-nausea medication. Combating the nausea (and the anticipatory nausea) is far more important than avoiding constipation. So, I'm taking the more of the anti-nausea drugs this time and I have to confess that things aren't so bad.

I can now say that I've only got 1 round left. No matter how much I might not be looking forward to it, it does give me something to excited about. For those of you are relatively new in following our blog, my cancer (primary mediastinal B cell lymphoma) should be "cured" after the 6 rounds of chemo. I'll have to go back for regular check-ups for the next several years, but for all practical purposes, I'll be completely back to normal, ready to live a long, normal, and cancer-free life.

I met a young tough football player in the treatment room on Thursday. He was obviously a new cancer patient. Dr. Nichols asked him how he was doing with the chemo. His response: "I'm kicking a**!!" Sounded just like a tough guy football player. I felt kind of like that at the beginning too. I'm going to try to summon up my inner tough guy for another couple of weeks and blast through the finish line and claim my victory.

And then cancer will be in my rear-view mirror and as Dr. Nichols said, "just a bad memory."

The Night Before Round 5

I'm to the point now where the mere thought of chemo makes me shudder. I'm dreading tomorrow morning.

The first few days after chemo go so slowly - time draws out like a blade. Conversely, the last few days before chemo go by too quickly - hanging on to these good days is like trying to catch flies with chopsticks - the moment you lunge for them they're gone.

Light the Night

Jared's work sponsored us to participate in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society "Light the Night" cancer walk Friday night. It's this fundraising event where you walk downtown for a few miles carrying balloons with lights in them (they're actually really cool. You hold this little battery pack in your hand and the string to the balloon is this little copper wire that powers the light bulb. Naturally, Jared the patent guy thought they were ingenious)

Here is the BSTZ team.

You can see one white balloon in this picture. Cancer patients and survivors carried white (everyone else, red). So Jared had a white one too.

This is fuzzy, but closer to what it actually looked like. Kinda glow-ey.

I didn't know too much about this in advance, but I guess people at Jared's work ponied up and sponsored him to the tune of $800+. If I were a smart person, I would have posted on this blog before the event and invited others to sponsor him/us. But I didn't really know anything about it since a lady at his work handled it all. So, oh well. Next year.

First Trip to the Park

I'm not sure why I haven't thought to take Seville to a park until now. I guess it somehow seems like an older kids kind of thing to do, but today was such a beautiful, balmy, autumn afternoon, we had to get out.


Seville's first time in a swing.

Mommy was scared to push her high, but when daddy did (despite mommy's protests) she laughed and giggled. fearless.

Learning to share with the neighborhood kids.

She also got to try a slide for the first time. But it was probably kinda boring, since Mommy just held her the whole time, pretending to make her slide, really.

Nevertheless, it was worth the whole effort just to see what Seville looks like with static-head :)

Cousins!

Last week Clay n' Amy came for a visit from Kansas, toting along their kids (the triplets, and impetus for TyBooks). It's the first time all the Pixton cousins have been together in a couple of years, and it was sooooo much fun to see them running around together and having fun. This picture was taken on the steps of our deck during a Sunday brunch at our house.

(clockwise from top left) Logan Atack, Ashlynn Atack, Addison "Addie" Pixton, Caden Atack, Eli Pixton, Olivia "Oa" Pixton, Seville "Silly Willy" Engstrom

Malaise

Hi. I don't really have much to say tonight, but I thought I'd say hello to those of you who continue to check for updates.

I had chemo #4 on Thursday - only 2 more to go!! Thank goodness. The nauseous malaise of the first few days is becoming more intolerable for me in some ways. It could be a cumulative effect of the chemo. But I think it's mostly impatience. Part of it is that I've been feeling really healthy and normal during the last few days of each cycle (the day of chemo is considered day 1 of the cycle). When you consider that I really wasn't feeling well for several months before I was diagnosed with cancer, it's been a good six months or so since I've really felt normal and healthy on a consistent basis. So, those good days kind of taunt me and cause me to crave normal life even more.

I think most of my posts on this blog have had a fairly upbeat and optimistic tone. I believe my tone has been honest. I am, after all, mostly upbeat and optimistic. But there are days - like today - where I just kind of want to throw politeness and optimism out the window and tell the world that cancer SUCKS!! I hate it. Yes, it's been a growing experience. Yes, I'm going to beat cancer - I'll be a survivor, I'll be fine. Yes, there have been wonderful blessings along the way. Yes, it could be much more miserable than it has been. But none of that changes the fact that today - right now - I hate cancer. How's that for honesty?

Fortunately, today will soon be just a fuzzy memory and I'll be another day closer to feeling healthy again...

8 Months Old and Still Kickin'

(more than kicking, actually)

Somebody turned 8 months old on Monday, and to commemorate the occasion she decided to do her first official "crawling." Previous attempts included the shifting of a hand or a knee or two, but never in concert with one another and never with real forward motion or without reverting to tummy surfing right away. This time, however, went something like this: hand... hand... knee... knee... hand...hand... hand... knee...hand...knee...knee.... hand... toy... aaaaaaaand tummy. Granted, she got about a foot, but still, I know this means the end of many things for me: The end of playing on my computer while she happily and safely plays on the rug behind me (out of immediate view). The end of putting her down and leaving her for a minute to go to the powder-room. The end of keeping chemicals in below-the-waist cupboards and drawers. The end of a free and clear opening to the stairwell. The end of my slovenly floor maintenance (or lack thereof), wherein I avoid all activities involving a broom. The end of our current dvd/stereo system setup, which I affectionately think of as "The Leaning Tower of 'Ponents" -- a tall stack of precariously perched heavy, sharp-cornered, fragile, expensive stereo components all connected to a tangle of enticing electrical cords and cables which dangle colorfully and temptingly to the floor and go trailing off every which way.

Other fun things to note about the 8 month old:

She had her first trip to the Zoo this week. With the exception of the moment brilliantly caught below, she was far more interested in whatever was in her hand and available for sucking on than the exotic animals I was trying to point out. (Me: "Look Seville! A rare, exotic asian elephant!" Seville: "I wonder if this piece of stroller strap tastes different than the other one." Me: "ooh! Seville! Look at the Sea Lion! He's swimming right up to us!" Seville: "dangly earrings!! mmmmm!" Me: "See the leopard Seville? See him? He's pacing back and forth right in front of you!" Seville (looking up for a second): "What's mommy pointing at? Meh. Another thing I've never seen before like 95% of everything I see every day. ho hum. Hey! My toes!")

She also got her first real teddy bear, which she loves. Or loves to suck on, anyway.

Favorite teether: A green bean. This started one day while I was harvesting in the garden with her in my arms. I had to hold the picked green beans in the hand that was around her while using my other hand to pick new ones, so I couldn't really keep them away from her. I eventually gave up and just carefully watched her gnaw on it. Turns out it's a really great teether and one of her favorite things. I give her a new one every day. I love the way her little gums sound squeaking on them -- you know how really fresh green beans squeak when you eat them? Like that.

Rainbow Sherbet

So, food is oftentimes a challenge for me lately - especially those first few days after chemo. Nothing sounds good to eat and yet I feel a need to satisfy the hunger pangs in my stomach. Fortunately, there is always one thing that I like to eat: rainbow sherbet. I can't seem to get enough of the stuff. I just thought you'd all like to know.

With all the kindness and generosity I've received over the last couple of months, it wouldn't surprise me if cartons of rainbow sherbet just started showing up on my doorstep now that I'm admitting my fondness for it. And while I sincerely appreciate the thought, please don't bring me any rainbow sherbet. Trust me, I have plenty.

The biggest question I have about rainbow sherbet at this point is whether or not I'll like it after I put cancer in my rear view mirror. I've heard a lot of cancer survivors still have very negative and/or nauseous associations with certain foods, places or things based on exposure to them during cancer treatment. If that ends up being the case with me and rainbow sherbet, I'm ok with that. I'm more than willing to sacrifice my fondness for rainbow sherbet to preserve my enjoyment of many other fine foods and desserts. Just so you know.

FAQ #1: Skye's Story

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS: "..and how are you (Skye) doing with all this?"

It is different being the wife than the patient. Obviously I'd rather be me than Jared right now. But it does, nevertheless, pretty much suck to have a husband with cancer. Mostly it's better to be me, of course, because I'm not sick. In one way though, it's worse because I'm afflicted with a terrible powerlessness, and can only stand back and watch while Jared goes through all this. Oh sure, you might think I'd get some satisfaction by doting on him and taking care of him, cooking for him, rubbing his back while he's in bed feeling crummy, eating his unfinished chocolate pudding (that part is true). But the truth is he mostly wants to be left alone. So I mostly have to stand back and watch, and try to be patient with the process (and drown my sorrows in his pudding. Seriously. Trader Joe's Belgian Chocolate pudding. A must try!).

But it's probably not like everyone imagines. Friends have assumed that I spend time crying, moments in sadness, lots of time worrying about our future. My closest friends have wondered at the fact that I don't seem more emotional to them, and maybe I'm not sure there isn't some validity to their thinking I'm "shut down emotionally." But, I think when you hear about someone else having cancer your own first reaction is, "oh my gosh! how awful!" and you immediately feel sad for those affected. But that's not really how it goes when it's actually happening to you (or at least, to me). Finding out your spouse has cancer is a gradual and excruciating process (if you've read much of this blog, you know how much waiting for information there is in the early weeks, and how frustrating it is). It's like the "boiling a frog" story, and so I never had a single moment of high-drama, bomb-dropping news. Someone asked me today when Jared was diagnosed and I fumbled around in my brain trying to figure out what to say. uh... he was diagnosed May 16th to August 10th.

Also, the news, "we have cancer" is very dramatic, and movie-like, and I think people take it that way. There's practically ominous background music during the statement, followed by a cheesy light-pop song about goodbyes and a sudden change of weather to gray, rainy, and cold. But the reality of living it is so much different. I think it must be kind of like being audited by the IRS. If a friend of mine was being audited I would think, "oh my! that sucks! poor them!" and I would feel sad for them. But when you, yourself, are being audited, the news strikes you differently. You are shocked. You feel a sense of dread. You feel much fear and trepidation. But there is also a lot of hope and anxiousness. There are a lot of unanswered questions, lots of work to do, and the constant thought: "maybe things will turn out fine." You become absorbed in the minutia of things you have to do in order to make everything turn out fine, become very busy gathering records and organizing a plan, and you fixate on that hope.

When I first found out about Jared's cancer (or, at least, reached the phase of diagnosis where we knew there was a tumor and were reasonably sure it was cancer of some kind), I was in a constant state of high anxiety and nervousness. I actually laughed when I told people about it on the phone because it sounded so ridiculous coming out of my mouth. I became obsessed with trying to arrange for disability insurance, life insurance, managing doctor appointments, canceling gigs, finding baby-care for surgery, whatever "stuff" had to be done. Don't get me wrong. Given a quiet minute alone I would start to get a deep pit in my stomach that felt like it might be bottomless, and thus I would immediately try to find something to do. It's like it's too unthinkable to think about, so you don't.

Lots of people have kindly thought that I might enjoy talking to someone who has "been through it." Bless their hearts, but I really wouldn't. People who have "been through it" tend to want to tell you their story, and all about what "it" was like. But really, everyone's experience is different, and I don't want to anticipate any horrors. If I cross every possible bridge out there before I have to I just might go out of my head, so I only want to know about things as they arrive, deal with them as they come, learn about them as I need to, cross the bridges when I come to them. It's my way of maintaining my sanity, so I apologize to anyone who wonders why I don't want to talk about cancer or, especially, the future.

So, anyway, all this is to say that you don't need to feel sorry for us in a movie-like drama way. This isn't T.V., it's life, and I really don't spend my time crying. The sun is actually shining. Funny things do happen (with no laugh track, I might add). I don't, unfortunately, look much like Angeline Jolie. And this won't be over in two hours. If I get audited by the IRS, on the other hand, I would sure accept your condolences (and some good background music).

What A Pleasant Surprise

This last week was a pretty good one. On Tuesday and Wednesday I felt about as good as I've felt in several months. I felt downright normal. My stamina at work isn't great yet, but I felt pretty good during the time I did go into the office.

On Wednesday, I had my first PET scan to see how the treatment is progressing. When I went in for chemo on Thursday, Dr. Nichols told me that the tumor had already shrunk to less than half it's largest size. Terrific news. I told him I felt great and he told me that I looked great. My white blood cell counts were off the charts, indicating that I seem to be bouncing back really well from the chemo.

Amidst all the research and homework I've done about cancer, the one thing that has confused me is the concept of chemo "cycles." Originally, I was told I'd be doing 4 cycles of the ABVD regimen, which would take 4 months. In the ABVD regimen, you get some chemo on day 1 of the cycle and more chemo on day 8 of the cycle; you then get days 9-28 to rest and that completes the cycle. So when I was told I now needed 6 cycles of the R-CHOP regimen, I assumed it would take 6 months. And even though I've been gearing up for 6 months, it didn't really make sense.

It didn't make sense because they kept referring to the R-CHOP cycle being 3 weeks. Well, obviously, 3 weeks times 6 cycles does not equal 6 months (it's a little over 4 months). But because the ABVD cycle involved 2 treatments, I assumed that the R-CHOP cycle did as well. In other words, I assumed I needed 12 treatments. On top of all that, I've been on an accelerated 2 week cycle instead of 3 weeks. As you can see, the math just doesn't add up anywhere. So, I asked for clarification on Thursday and the news was very good:

6 cycles means 6 treatments. I've now completed 3 treatments. I'm half done. And I'll finish the last three within the next 6 weeks. I'll be done by October!! How awesome is that? My hope for the last several weeks was that I could beat this cancer on an accelerated schedule - specifically, I was hoping that I could be done by Christmas. Due to my ignorance over the definition of a cycle, I got the pleasant surprise I was hoping for.

I now feel like a snowball rolling down a hill. I'm bouncing back faster from the chemo, I'm getting stronger and I'm already half done witht the treatments. I don't mean to sound arrogant (especially because I was pretty sick last night and I really don't feel all that well today), but I'm brimming with confidence that I can cruise through the rest of this and get on with my life.

With all of this good news, I would be a fool if I didn't acknowledge that a big reason that snowball is rolling so well is the support, help, service, prayers of so many people. My prayers and your prayers have been answered. I really believe that. I can't help but believe that. I know God, our Heavenly Father, lives and hears and answers our prayers. I know we don't always get the answers we want. I don't know for sure why my prayers and your prayers on my behalf have been answered in such wonderful ways. But I'm grateful - I'm profoundly grateful.

The ride ain't over yet - I have to remember that. But I feel really good about where I'm heading...

Summertime (and the livin' is easy)

It's been a fun month in some ways. As far as Seville is concerned, this cancer stuff is great: she gets to see an awful lot more of Daddy than she used to. We've managed to have many special happy moments at home as a family, and even managed a short trip to Sunriver with the Pixtons. A brief rundown:

(click HERE to view pics on your own terms):

Daddy's Head Before and After

Here Seville is playing with Daddy's full head of hair.


Shrieking together.

She doesn't seem to mind that it's gone now

Here she is with her new "mischievous" look.