Bump in the Road: New Year, New Kitchen, New Plans, New Nails

I reserve a special place in my heart for those wonderful people who clean my house. I don't mean someone who comes in and vaccuums, or mops, fluffs the pillows and leaves. I mean the ones who take the time to clean the grout, dust my nightstand and even make pretty tissue arrangements. Yesterday I came home from a full day of appointments to a sparkly fresh house - floors, dressers, sheets, bathtub... you name it, the team (yes, a team) cleaned it! Much love and appreciation to the fabulous sponsors of this treat.

Looks a little greasier than it really was. Yum.

We held off on a major cleaning until the kitchen was complete. Now that it's back in working order, it seems that the rest of our house is in working order as well. So far, we've prepared full meals in the kitchen including, but not limited to: TJ's chicken sausage/zucchini/pasta melange (see left), banana pancakes, and oatmeal craisin m&m cookies. We are still working on the accessories and minor touches such as art that needs to be framed (without cracking the glass), putting up the magnetic knife strip, and finding a dog food bin with a flip top lid (this seems to be Dan's ultimate weekend mission).

Yesterday I had a check up with Dr. Henry to discuss radiation, odds and ends, and the next few months. We planned for a CT scan at the end of January, which will only give us limited information. What we are hoping for is to see nothing new, possibly even shrinkage (yes, George, shrinkage) of the tumor and of course, no growth. Obviously I asked for the contingency plan.

Waiting for a needle to the chest.

Plan A (clearly most preferable): IF I pass that scan, I continue to recover and regain strength until the end of March when I will have the biggie: the PET. This will look for any remaining "hot spots" (which indicate cancerous activity) and let us know if the treatment was successful.

Plan B: IF there is anything suspicious (new growth, tumor bigger, etc.), we proceed directly to an Autologous Stem Cell Transplant (autoSCT). This is when my own stem cells are harvested and frozen, then I am given a big fat dose of chemo to kill all the baddies. After all the baddies are dead, I get my own stem cells back and supposedly they proceed directly to my bone marrow and begin to produce those magical white cells again.

Now, if we proceed to Plan A and get to the PET at the end of March only to discover that there is still activity, then Plan B goes into effect anyway. And the port is staying in until at least March. So at least we are aware of the possibilities. I do so like to be prepared.

At least Priscilla was there to do the dirty deed.

Thankfully, in between appointments (Dr. Henry's/port flush/blood draw and my therapist), my mother and I went back to the soo lovely organic nail salon (Tierra Mia) for blindfolded manicures c/o my fairy godmother (heart heart). Just as the name of the service indicates, the whole time you are blindfolded. They drizzle oil on your hands and arms, exfoliate with crumbly cornmeal, tickle your head with a tingler, and even pick your color for you (after some discussion and direction on your part). I wound up with a dusty gray color, which I never would've chosen, but that I'm loving.

Don't forget the freezing spray

It was quite relaxing and distracting, especially after the vomitous visit to the oncologist. I still continue to be flabbergasted that there aren't more people in the oncologists' waiting room who seem totally disturbed to be there at all. Are people in denial? Have they just come to accept these visits or this journey as their fate? Will I one day not be shocked to find myself seeing an ONCOLOGIST? After all these months, you'd think I'd have come to terms with it by now. But, nope. It is still quite ridiculous. I have plenty of totally depressing thoughts to share with you. However, for tonight, I will sign off on a positive note, with a tour of the new (and CLEAN) kitchen. Enjoy the photos below (note the before, during, and after shots).