Happy Holidays and what happened to 2017?!?!!

Most of this year has been a blur in one way or another.  Neil starts his last round of scheduled chemo tomorrow.  I hope and pray that it's the last for a long, long time but I also know every time his stomach aches or something feels different I'm going to jump to worst case scenario for a long time.  Two weeks after his last chemo he will be scanned again and then just lots of hopefully boring follow up.  Looking forward is easier than looking back.

This chemo cycle Neil has gotten Neulasta to help boost his white count and neutrophils so that there wasn't adding extra weeks in between rounds.  It's made the last few months very busy and full of a lot of sick days.  I feel less reliable and much less planned than I typically like.  Out two weeks there are 3-4 days I can count on him feeling good, sometimes a few more and sometimes one of those good days isn't so good.  For a while I alternated between making those days as full as is reasonable (even on good days, we don't get to do as much before he's done--so few spoons these days) and spending them just relaxing and doing nothing.  Fortunately and unfortunately those good days I usually work. It makes it so I can be home on more of the bad days but makes good days less fun.

Christmas season this year hasn't been very productive.  I've bought the ingredients to make cookies, bread, Grandma's popcorn and a few candies but never got around to making plates.  I think back on the shoulder's I've cried on and the arms that have lifted us up and I wanted to do something meaningful to show my appreciation but fell asleep on the couch with it being nothing more than a wish.  I was determined to make just one trip, Neil and I without any kids, and go see the lights on temple square.  Instead we stopped by St George temple tonight.  We've tried to #lighttheworld but it's mostly been in small simple ways and without any kind of regularity.

There was a peace about this Christmas season though.  More joy in a string of lights, more tears at Christmas hymns, more childlike wonder at the first snow fall.  I will tuck away 2017 with gratitude for friends and family and welcome 2018 with open arms and enough fun plans to make up for this year.  Weddings, camping, National Parks, and hopefully a marked lack of hospitals.

So, Chemo...

It sucks.

Day 1 we spent what feels like most of the day at the cancer clinic getting medications so that the next few hours go smoother with less nausea or any other negative reactions then the cocktail that comprises folfirinox, ending with coming home with a fanny pack holding a home infusion ball full of 5 FU that infuses over the next 46 hours.

Lots of word puzzles, YouTube clips, Facebook browsing and we were done.  No throwing up, no reactions, lots of nerves and worries but over all it went smoothly.  Came home and went for a walk (we're back to slow walks counting as exercise) to get rid of the tired that comes from traveling or otherwise sitting all day.  Neil was tired and his legs felt heavy, but all in all it went well.  That night he couldn't sleep, but morning came anyways.  Day 2 was spent catching up on sleep and spending some time outside {fresh air and sunshine are good for the soul} and commenting on how "this isn't as bad as I thought it would be" and being very tired of the fanny pack, and tired in general.  Several naps but not a lot of throwing up or wishing he was throwing up.

Chemo Grenade

Today is Day 3.

Day 3 sucks.  Lots of throwing up even with all nausea medications on board and side effects from Irinotican.  My mind is tired and watching Neil be so sick and knowing that it's not going to end anytime soon.  I think back to my blog post Is Your Hut On Fire and remembering that every Hard Thing (big, small, and in between) I've ever dealt with has in one way or another been an answer to my prayers.  Chemotherapy is hard.  It rips at my heart and bring tears to my eyes on a daily basis but it's an answer to my prayers, prayers I didn't even know I'd be saying just a short time ago.

I daily think of the people who have dealt with pancreatic cancer before, when it wasn't treatable but they tried anyways, giving the medical field invaluable data.  We are benefiting from those efforts in ways I wish I could express to their families but I can't.  I have things to be grateful for, ICU remained closed so I was able to stay at home, the families before us, the technology in the little chemo grenade, the last 3 years, friends who call when they are thinking about you.  Even among the gratitude, today was hard.