To my darling Toni

One Year
Hard to tell when it started, history seemed so sublime

Few could have guessed this moment, its path undefined

Surmised a lifetime, waiting in its prime

Yet in the end it existed, it was a matter of time

A girl of the earth, warm and kind

Caring for its creatures and family, her state of mind

Radiance surrounded her, a gentle glow that shined

Adored for what she believed, her journey defined

A deep love for each other, soulmates for all time

They awoke one Year ago, hands and legs interwined

Bedsheets warm and ruffled, on their skin telltale signs

Lines criss-crossed their bodies, remnants of how they had reclined 

Eyes locked on each other, loving smiles appeared

A new Year was soon beginning, hopes and dreams were near

Resolutions were pending, their plans seemed clear

Two hearts joined together, each one of the them dear

The sunlight caressed her, a morning stretch ensued

Her fingers chased along precious curves, awakening places subdued

A chance glance at her breast, the avenues of bedlines were viewed

An inward dimple among them, out of place and then reviewed

Gentle touches in her softness, new lines on her face

The bedlines seemed invited, but not in this place

An unexpected firmness, more than a trace

Perhaps it was nothing, must be the case

A sequence of visits, concerns needed to rest

A comment from one, should not be there at best

How could this be, surely it must be in jest

Yet there it was, we chose to detest

The radiance dimmed, life's vibrant colors turned to greys

Smiles were displaced, tears streamed throughout the days

This Year was not planned, it took a different way

Life changed forever, all seemed of dismay

New faces introduced, opinions were tossed

At first just one side, but then perhaps both lost

Tests just kept coming, decisions and costs

Time was dragging on, feelings were crossed

It planted itself, a very familiar place

In life's nuturing duct, as typically the case

Yet it was not satisfied, it needed more space

Consuming the woman, its goal of disgrace

New lines and marks appeared, the lines totalled three

One had to be twice done, its hunger on a spree

The girl of radiance, courageous as could be

Had reminders of her journey, she just wanted to be free

The race was on, chemistry and atoms flew

A compassionate nurse attended to her, a weekly situational brew

A series of daily pills, more than just a few

Provided balance to the poison, giving her a chance to renew

Changes were subtle, thankfully few

Some hair disappeared, but enough stayed true

The velvety skin darkened, fair became reddened in hue

Her favorite oatmeal was bland, tasted like cardboard and glue

Through it all she worked, building planes for the skys

Perhaps best in the end, she kept herself occupied

Exhaustion was frequent, but she kept a weathered eye

She did not want it to rule her, it simply had to die

That Year has passed, friends and family close by

The love of my life, still strong by my side

Her future is promising, a new Year aligned

Radiant once more, forever grateful she is mine

TONI FINISHES CHEMO!!!! Heading to Colorado

Toni completed her chemo this morning.   I think she is so very happy and relieved. She is healing well from the surgery to remove her port.   Toni's greatest goal this year was to complete chemo and radiation by the end of the year.   And she did it! Thank you to our family and friends for your support and love over the last year.   We are going to keep updating the site near most everyweek.   She still has a long way to go.   A 5 year treatment plan of estrogen suppression.  

So, off we go to Colorado for the Holiday!!! Pictures soon.

Portless in Seattle; Toni Completes the Weekly Chemo Infusions; 6 days of Daily Chemo Remains.

The morning started out just like most every Friday over the last 7 months (25+ weeks).  Weary eyed, Toni dons her Chemo bag and gets into the car for the 25 minute ride to the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (SCCA) complex in Seattle.

However, this morning was different.   It was the last chemo infusion we hope Toni will ever receive.  To really understand this experience is to walk Toni's path today.   So join us for "Portless in Seattle."

We pulled into the SCCA parking lot just before 7am.

Typically, we park on Level A on either side of this parking garage support.

 

Somehow, Toni woke up with a case of the sniffles and sneezes.  She chose to wear a mask, just in case she had a cold to protect the other cancer patients.  This elevator takes us to the next step in the routine... the weekly blood draw.   The lab determines her various blood counts and sends to the pharmacy to ensure the correct dosage of chemo.

Both Toni and I have to fill out one of these forms.   It is the SCCA's screening process for colds, flu, etc.   You'll see what happens when you check, YES.   Until this visit, we had always checked "NO."   Part of my routine is to validate parking at the white sign on the counter behind Toni.

Once she has her port "accessed" or "hooked up" and her blood drawn, we head to the Infusion area located on the 5th floor.

This is the view from the 5th floor.  Queen Anne Hill is to the left, and the Lake Union area and part of the Fred Hutchison/SCCA complex is seen in the foreground.

Toni seated in her infusion room with her chemo bear.  Part of my routine is to get water and warm blankets.  Today, I had to break from the routine as Toni was going into surgery to have her port removed, so no water or soda.  But they always give her saline solution with her chemo prep drugs.

So you'll notice that Toni now does not have on a mask but the staff does.   Remember, she signed "YES" on the screening form for sneezing... so the staff has to wear protection around her. Typically they don't have to wear the mask.   This was Toni's CNA on most of our visits.   She takes Toni's vitals prior to chemo.

Vicki, who has been Toni's nurse on most of the chemo Fridays was back today.   We were so happy to see her.  She is one of the most compassionate persons we know.   From the very outset, she made the chemo process tolerable for Toni.

Vicki finishes Toni's chemo and removes the port access needle.   You can see the port on Toni's left side.

And thus ends the 25th chemo treatment.

An emotional day for Toni.   She stated she really did not feel like celebrating.   The last year has been

hard, and the tears came for everyone.   And one last time, Vicki and Toni share a cherished hug, and a laugh of relief.   Vicki was awesome.

But, Toni was not done.   She wanted the port out.   So, off to the 2nd floor to have the port removed.   Besides the areas where the cancer and lymph nodes were removed, the port was the most prominent reminder of her ongoing treatment.   Toni checks in just shortly after 9am.

Toni readies for surgery.  

Toni thinking positive thoughts and starts to relax before surgery.

Seriously... she was happy.  What I did not get a picture of was the surgeon (Dr. Petty), Toni's surgical RN Carissa, and Toni sharing tears as the surgical process was reviewed.   It was one of the most touching moments I have witnessed.   Dr. Petty even mentioned that health care professionals are trained to distance themselves a bit to be able to deal with the situation themselves.   Yet, he showed a level of compassion that I was so happy to see.   Toni was really emotional, yet the surgical team's response was remarkably candid and beyond reproach.   By the way, Dr. Petty was the same surgeon that put the port in.   I knew she was going to be fine.  

About an hour later, after a good nap, Toni enjoys some string cheese and juice.   The tears still came, yet as Toni explained to me, she just could not believe it was finally over.

And there you go... the port is gone, replaced by a bandage.   Toni was "Portless in Seattle."

ONE CHEMO INFUSION LEFT!!! and then 6 days and done December 17th.

25 chemo weeks have come and gone. To think that in 3 weeks (a year ago), at the end of the last year's vacation to Colorado, Toni found a dimple on her chest and a lump to go with it. Yet in just under two weeks, she will complete her chemo. And hopefully a return of strength follows. Although she will not say it very outloud, the last few treatments have been a bit tougher on her. Mostly, an upset stomach, headaches, and exhaustion. And yet, she keeps on going.

Today, we joined about 20 other people to plant trees in a park near Redmond. It was fun to see her digging in the ground. I think she really enjoyed it. She loves the forests; her faces lights up when she walks among the trees. After about six or seven plants, she tired out; but happy.

Speaking of trees. Our new Subaru is rated as a PZEV (Partial Zero Emissions) vehicle. The emissions from the car are cleaner than most cities' air quality. Only all electric vehicles run cleaner. Wonderful technology. Hopefully, we'll see an accelerated effort to take care of this planet.
The plant in Indiana, where the car was made, is Zero-Landfill. In other words, the materials used to make the car, are either recycled or part of the car. Pretty cool.

And speaking of barking dogs (see Toni's blog on a poem below). We live in a small very densely packed neighborhood. The homes are probably 30 feet apart. Now in Belmont (Pueblo, Colorado) where I grew up we were just as close end to end... however there was a nice backyard of 50 to 75 feet. So the next house was probaly 100 feet away. Well... we are close. And all 2 story homes. So there is this dog named Bailey. Bailey goes out at around 9 or 10 pm every night to do her thing. The owner then starts this chant "Come on Bailey", "Come on Bailey", "Bailey, Come On", "Baily", "Baily", "Come on Bailey". See, Toni and I are in bed at around 7pm... 8pm is LATE for us. We start our day at 3:30am...ish. Now, Bailey rarely barks. But the owner's voice is amplified by the surrounding homes. Unfornately, (or maybe fortunately for our neighbors) our rear facing windows do not open. They are more likely skylights. But if they did, when Bailey went out at night, I would open up the window and either play ZZ TOP or create a chant of my own... like... "Mr. Maggie, get on your side of the bed", "Mr. Maggie, would you get off my head", "Mr. Maggie, quit stomping on my back", "Mr. Maggie, for crying out loud, would you hit the sack." Or I would join in on Bailey like, "Yeah, we are up...just take your time." "We all were asleep, but now it is nine." "Come on Bailey, hurry up." "Come on Bailey, you &*%&%^%& pup." Anyway... embarassingly, I used to do the same thing with my little poodle "Bailey" in Colorado. Only on cold or rainy days would she do her thing and run back inside. Typically, I had to put her on a leash, and hang it next to the door, so I could reel her back in when I got tired of waiting for her to return. But that was Pueblo West and the homes were on 1/2 acre or better plots.

Poem for the day...

This was in a book I was reading on kindness. It was in the chapter on changing your perspective. I thought it was funny.

Another Reason Why I don't Keep a Gun in the House
by Billy Collins

The neighbor's dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbor's dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for a barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.