DAY 29: A beloved aunt and uncle...

Just so you know, when I'm in the hospital... it's not like I'm spending hours upon hours on the computer each day, and deciding as a matter of convenience of motivation whether or not to post an update. It just ain't like that, homey. More realistically, if I have the aptitude or coherence to log on, usually that little capacity is solely directed and posting an update in some form or fashion. So a decent barometer of my level of awareness and stability is the frequency of updates.

Which leads me to this morning. I am clearly due for an update. I feel stable enough -- and so here we go.

The brain surgery went well but the recovery wasn't so smooth. I got really nauseous and vomited several times on Thursday afternoon. They tried to get it to stop, only to resort to a morphine and ativan injection to knock me out. Blah. More grogginess ensued. I got a stabbing headache (the kind you'd feel if someone had drilled a hole in your head?). but I am pleased to say that it has largely not returned since. The 19 staples will stay for 7-10 days and then will come out. Cool. Another scar to talk about! I like scars because they are another reminder that we're imperfect and human and don't need to hold our bodies to such high aesthetic standards as we sometimes do.

So I had chemo, brain surgery, and then went right back to the chemo schedule. On Friday evening, we were told that we could go home when the Methotrexate levels had cleared my body (<0.05). On Saturday morning, they were 0.14 which meant another overnight in Emory Hotel was unavoidable. Ugh. I just wanted to get out of there, so this was a bit deflating. Sunday morning, we were at 0.04 so I started to stage our escape. We headed home around mid-day.

While we knew it was coming, Monday morning we had to get right back in the car and head to the Clinic to get my labs checked, a Neulasta shot (an $8k shot to stimulate WBC growth), and also... drumroll please... my first intrathecal chemo treatment in my new resevoir. That's fancy phrasing for needle-injected brain/spine chemo!!! YEAH! Call the kids in! Just writing that series of words makes me feel sick.

When they tried at frist to stick the needle into my brain resevoir, no CSF flowed out... so they pulled the darn thing out. The guy said, "I'm gonna go get so-and-so, so she can poke you the second time. See ya!" Wouldn't it be nice if addressing lakc of successes in life were this simple to accomplish.

Charise, another NP, came in and a few minutes later had me poked and flowing. CSF came out, then chemo when in. Then lunch came out (of my mouth). I felt like my blood pressure went to half of normal and room started spinning. The throwing up lasted a good while... which gave the Emory folks time to grab a bag of fluids, stick my port, and get the IV pump going. I zoned out for about 90 minutes and slowly felt more stable.

I still have trouble walking, due to all the weakness and dizziness. MY RBC is low, which makes me anemic... which will cause symptoms like this. Also, the high-dose chemo for a week. That will do it, too.

So I'm back at home, after a 7 hour+ visit to the Clinic yesterday. It really sucks that I have to drag Candace everwhere with me and she can't really have a 'normal' day. She is such a thankless helper and never asks 'what's in it for me?'. What an angel. I am just so fortunate.

On to a story of a beloved aunt and uncle. Stan and Marcia Smartt.

Only recently has it has become clear to me what amazing people my uncle and aunt Stan and Marcia are.

Sometimes sowing seeds takes years upon years to sprout and take root. I think this is especially true with children. Over the past 30 years, this couple did so many things for me of which I am only now beginning to see the true beauty and self-sacrifice: driving across state lines to babysit, sleeping-bag camp-outs on their back porch, building model and radio-controlled airplanes, watching crazy old home movies, motivating me to get up on a slalom ski by a $10 double-or-nothing bet, teaching me (and my sister and cousin) how to fly a Cessna 172, teacing me how to fly fish and how to hunt (even if it did fortify my soft-spot for animals and dislike of hunting!), taking old Bumpy Jeep on off-road adventure rides, catalyzing my love for playing the drums (Stan is a long-time drummer, too), buying a ragged-out go-kart and letting me full-throttle it around the barn, always giving creative birthday and Christmas money scavenger-hunt gifts, educating me as a teen-ager about the time-value of money concept through a creative gift offer, introducing me to the truth that God has a plan and laws regarding how we use our money and resources, mailing an original card and letter every month for our first year of marriage,... and did this with an all-around craziness that implicitly gives one permission to enjoy life and laugh it up.

Stan's wife Marcia has the most compassionate and generous heart of any woman I know. She has artistic and creative gifting that shines so brightly. She also has a heart for others that is a paragon of empathy. She is a woman who you will talk to for over an hour, and only then realize you've heard nothing about her, as she has drawn you out and delved into what's dear to you the entire time.

While we don't see Stan and Marcia very often, they hold a place in our hearts that can never be replaced.

When I look at my niece and nephew (Candace's sister's children), I am often reminded of what Stan and Marcia have done for me and my sister.

I suppose the longer the seeds take to sprout, the deeper the roots are hence the less likely the storm will bring down what has grown over time.