4 DOWN, 2 TO GO

WE'VE FINISHED with this month's chemo. The next 28 days can be spent in recuperation or celebration or a mixture of the 2. Maybe it was just that we're getting into the swing of the procedure, but these 3 days seemed easier than the previous 3 months. It's anybody's guess as to why. Suffice it to say we're grateful. Mr. Bob takes it all in stride and it's not in his nature to marvel at such a thing, whereas I could shout our good luck from the rooftops if I weren't so hesitant about heights. Look who's writing and crowing about it while Mr. Bob has slipped into slumber.


Day 1........I asked him why he's abandoned his Hawaiian shirts and he had a good, logical answer. It's a matter of getting to the port easily and most of his Island shirts don't button down the front.


On Tuesday, the 7 hour session, all went well. He ate his lunch, napped, I knit a sizeable block of my wrap, read a couple of chapters in my book, dozed a little myself and pretty soon it was time to go home. He flops into bed the minute we're in the door and a couple of hours later he's up and ready for an evening of television.

Day 2........Back we went for a 1 hour session. Duck soup, really, after the rigors of the day before. We always ask for an 8:30 appointment, for the world isn't quite awake yet and at that time we can always park conveniently right next to the elevator. The view from the room is  rather lovely

 Day 3........The nurse refers to the doctor as a One Man Army. He leads his troops of patients in their fight against cancer with the help of 2 or 3 nurses and an office staff. This morning I counted the number of chairs in the waiting room and there are 28. Remembering back 35 years ago when I took my ailing mother to this same doctor, he was in a different location and I recall clearly my astonishment at seeing his patients overflowing a smaller waiting room. The line went down the hall. So many people in need of help. Even now, the waiting room fills up with understandably sad looking people. 

Flavio is the man who weighs Mr. Bob and compliments me on my cooking if he's put on a pound or 2. Then he draws blood.

None of that happens on the 1 hour days, but today he came into the room we were in and visited a bit. He's been with this same doctor for 21 years and plans to retire soon. He's a jolly man which is helpful in an oncologist's office. We need all the laughter we can get.

Lastly the doctor appeared in his always colorful shirt and tie. Today's cravat pattern featured bottles of Tabasco which caused Mr. Bob to tell about the time we visited the Tabasco plantation in Louisiana. Apart from that, things are looking promising since the second x-ray showed signs of improvement and there's not much need for extra oxygen. An in-depth MRI at the end of treatment will tell the story.

I'm crediting much of this to your prayers and good wishes. Thank you for weathering this with us. Much appreciated.

"Charge forward with hope and get the best medical advice you can. Talk to your friends, neighbors, family, and together you attack it. We can't always control what happens to us, but we can always control how we react to it." 
                                                                                                       Robert Urich