And more of the happy herd...

Clearly enjoying the sun on a gorgeous morning. And the mini-donks are now one with the herd!

And some new Herd pics...

Still muddy up there, but looks like it was a gorgeous day today. The herd is definitely looking good!

Ah, the things you learn. And Chemo Brain...

You know what they say…bad experiences stick more clearly in your mind than good ones. I guess that's a critical element for survival: if you're out wandering around the Serengeti, and you narrowly escape being eaten by a pride of lions, it's best to remember how horrifying the experience was. That way you'll be twice as careful next time (or better yet, curb your wandering of the veldt altogether).

I guess that works in good and bad ways with an experience like this. I think I definitely learned a much better strategy for surviving a hospital stay. In addition to my laps around the ward with Pole, I have some weightless strength training and toning exercises I'll do every day that I can. I'm availing myself of the treadmill and the stationary bicycle. I have my new MacBook with a big, beautiful screen to accommodate my post-45 eyes, and I have access to my home machine remotely, and I'm writing like crazy. I even have a better strategy (I hope) for keeping good snacks available from the cafeteria.

Of course, I am in the giddy throws of my second day on Decadron, which helps a lot. Talk to me again on day 5 when I don't get the steroid. Much less giddy, I assure you.

And then there's the downside of remembering the bad stuff much more vividly…arrrggghhh. Call me a wimp, but I never realized how very much I HATE not feeling good. If I can just buck the gnarly headaches this go-round, it will be much easier. But it's still no picnic and the yucky days sure as shoot stick out in your mind.

But enough whining.

While I was on the treadmill today, I met a 23 year old man who is 11 days post non-related donor transplant and doing fantastic. He was diagnosed with one of the rarer types of non-Hodgkins lymphoma. None of his siblings were a match, but lo and behold, 4 months after the search began, they found him a match. He said he cried when he got the phone call. Well, heck, do I feel like a wimp -- I've already cried plenty!

He was working on one of those 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles, and we chatted about the importance of keeping yourself BUSY both physically and mentally. Not only to while away the time, but to try to counter the effects of "chemo brain." Yep, it's true, chemo at least temporarily hampers your memory and your overall clarity. There was actually an article on just that topic in the New York Times last week.

Funniest thing about that conversation was one of the first things he said was, "you look pretty young too." (I'm thinking masks might be the next fashion trend…) And I, in typical fashion, added a goddamn year to my age and replied, "I'm 47." Dumbass…I just turned 46 a couple of weeks ago…what's up with that!

Chalk it up to chemo brain...

Okay, let's get this show on the road.

Back at Scripps this morning. It wasn't easy dragging my ass back in here…a little like trying to gently place a cat in a tub full of water…but I did it. I packed absolutely everything I could think of to keep me busy and comfortable…I had visions of a delivery truck backing up to the front desk ***beep***beep***beep*** and unloading a collection of steamer trunks. Okay, it wasn't quite that extreme, but I do have practically my entire casual wardrobe and my back pack is STUFFED with my electronics, books, sketch pads, etc, etc.

Talked to the docs this morning and it sounds like I won't be locked up as long this time, providing all goes well. They say that since the disease (I refuse to call it "my" disease) responded so well to the first round of chemo, this one shouldn't be as hard on me.

I also discovered a treadmill I can (and am allowed) to walk on, which will while away some time and be easier than navigating laps around the ward with Pole Newman in tow.

After our visit with Dr. Curtin yesterday, who had an interesting way of describing what happens in these type of blood cancers, Kirk had a pretty funny analogy last night. He said my immune system was like a bunch of conscious objectors -- picture the troops hiding behind sand dunes, smoking dope, while the enemy rapes and pillages. Friggin' slackers. And so now we're forced to call in Special Forces in the form of a donor's diligent immune system…

So here I'll be for at least a week and a half. Y'all know where to find me!

So here's the deal.

We (me, Kirk, my sister Lori, and my mom and dad - it was a sold out show) met with Dr. Curtin at UCSD today. So here's the lowdown.

Before doing the allogeneic (donor) bone marrow transplant, we'll do an autologous stem cell transplant. That means they'll harvest my own stem cells, wipe out my immune system with high dose chemo, and then "rescue" me with my stem cells.

Hey, you know I couldn't just get a plain old bone marrow transplant and be done with it. Where's the suspense in that???

The idea is for the disease to be deeply in remission before doing the allogeneic transplant. Once I recover from that (hopefully a matter of weeks), they'll proceed with the donor bone marrow transplant.

In the meantime, I'll probably have two more cycles of the HyperCVAD chemotherapy. Plus a bunch more tests to assess...well...pretty much everything.

The next step is getting my sisters tested to see if anybody is a suitable match. If not, we go to the National Database.

Consult at UCSD today.

Will post here later with what we learn....

Lukewarm Showers and Asparagus Mush.

Okay, I love all my folks at Scripps Green. But then there are the frigging lukewarm showers and nasty neutropenic food. I think I'm dreading that more than the chemo.

Seriously. Very early on I learned to take my showers first thing in the morning because there was actually SOME warm water. And I dunno...maybe it was just the shower in that room. But good grief, people, is it too much to ask for a bonafide HOT SHOWER? The kind where when you stick your hand in to test the temperature, you don't have to really THINK HARD about whether the water is warm enough? The kind where you actually feel warmer when you're done, and the mirror fogs up a little? I swear to God I won't sue you a la the McDonald's hot coffee lawsuit. See?? You even have it in writing!

And I hate to harp on the food again, because really, the regular menu is pretty darn good. But the neutropenic food…well, I understand the concept just fine, but I gotta believe that the actual product could be made infinitely more appetizing. After all, we are talking about a bunch of people who aren't exactly grizzly-out-of-hibernation, car-upholstery-eating ravenous to begin with. (And please trust me when I say that there is no planet upon which canned, and THEN overcooked asparagus mush is considered edible.) The truth is, I've actually spent several hours today plotting a better strategy than last time for surviving the offerings of the Scripps neutropenic diet. (It's going to be a little like McGyver, but I do have a few ideas…)

I just had to get that off my chest. I'm done whining now, I promise.

Mom and Dad brought homemade stuffed peppers and salad for lunch today (okay, now you know why the food is such an issue -- I'm spoiled). DAMN it was good. So nice to have them here, too…I wish we all lived a little closer.

Counting down to 2:00p.m. Thursday.

Round 2, DING!

My blood work looked good again today. I figured it would - I've been feeling great! But it looks like I better make the most of my freedom. Depending upon what I learn at my consult on Thursday, the docs are talking about bringing me back in for HyperCVAD round 2 either Friday or Monday.

This is how it will go until I have a donor match and the bone marrow transplant is scheduled. The chemo regimen keeps the disease under control. Which is why I am REALLY eager to start the process of finding a match.

And just when my sense of taste and smell were finally almost normal...*sigh*...

It's another gorgeous day (but still way too cold for San Diego in late February), so I'm a walking fool...

Victim vs. Adversary

Two weeks out of the hospital, I am feeling much stronger, both physically and mentally. The thought that in spite of how miserable chemo is, you feel like yourself again (mostly) eventually, definitely makes it easier to envision going through more courses while we find a bone marrow donor. At least the process is not a mystery now; I know what to expect, I know how the other drugs affect my body, and I have an idea how long it takes to rally afterwards.

I also have a better strategy for staying sane while I'm inpatient, and plenty of goals while I'm here at home (which would include learning to relax and sit quietly reading or what have you without jumping up every five minutes to do something).

Now that I'm feeling better, I've added a little toning workout to my walking - mostly lower body exercises due to my ribs and my PICC line. I lost so much muscle at the outset of this (I'm the buttless wonder...not that I ever had much of a butt, but...), it's time to start rebuilding some of it as I gain some weight back.

I don't think I ever realized just how competitive I am by nature. I've never been into organized competition as such. But being presented with adversity...and an obvious opponent...has brought it out in spades. I guess people are either inclined to take a victim's role, or an adversarial role. I'm honestly a little surprised to find I'm the adversarial type. Even after several rough days, I bounced back to "EFF this thing!!" before I knew it.

Everyone tells you it's normal to be mad, but you have to get over it. I think that needs to be put into context. You can't wander around and be mad at everything. Oh, I'm mad all right. But it's all channeled right at the enemy in great, venomous, HOW DARE YOU waves of fight.

Off to the beach for a walk...

Enjoying the rain for a change...

After a couple of years of waiting for the Tijuana River Valley, where our horses were boarded, to flood every time we had a decent amount of rain, I had gotten to a point where I dreaded weather. We experienced two floods there; one fairly severe, in which we were wading waist deep in filthy, freezing flood water leading horses up the hill to safety. The experience didn't inspire giddy anticipation when the forecast called for an inch or more of rain.

Now, with the Herd happily roaming the rolling hills in Patterson, a forecast of heavy rain is no longer a stressful event. I sat looking out the window yesterday, watching the wind whip the trees, listening to the rain patter on the roof, and thoroughly enjoyed it. (Side note: while the majority of trees simply bend obligingly in the wind, the palm trees seem slightly hysterical about it, flailing their arms in all directions like some overwrought drama queen.)

Slept better last night; I'd been waking up at 3 and staring at the ceiling 'til morning, which is a REALLY undesirable thing when you're working hard to keep your brain screwed on straight. But I didn't take any naps yesterday. Voila - a good night's sleep!

I see a glimmer of blue sky peeking through out there, so I'm going to bundle up and sneak a walk in before it decides to rain again...

Chant with me now...

The weather was spectacular today, if a little chilly. Everything is so vivid after the rain! Big surf to watch (I bet that water's frigging FREEZING right now).

So much to think about and so much I am better off NOT thinking about. I have to focus on using this time to get as strong as I can before the next step. A constant litany in my head of "FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!" In the middle of the night I wake up mentally chanting it over and over without even thinking about it.

My appetite has returned full force...I swear I eat all day every day. Little bits, but still. Which would be ever so much more enjoyable if everything tasted the way it was supposed to. Not that it's stopping me...my jeans fit WAY better today.

I need to get back to writing my book. I haven't touched it for two weeks...it's been too hard to think about my boys. But I'm better after the pictures Holly and Dave sent yesterday. With a rainy weekend ahead, that's my plan.

Helluva a thing, this is, but if there's an upside right now, it's spending time with Kirk. We were both so busy before this upended us we didn't get much quality time. We are making the most of it.

I made the mistake of Googling plasma cell leukemia the other day. Funny thing is, ordinarily, that is the FIRST thing I would have done. But I hadn't until now. I guess I had my head in the sand. In retrospect, that was smart. For God's sake, don't let me Google it again. Those aren't MY odds. They're somebody else's. F*** this M****** F*****.

The Very Happy (and definitely Slightly Feral) Herd

Damn, are they cute, or what?

Duney:

Leroy:

Riser:

Mixer:

and the old man, Johnny:

10,000 Views!

Hey, people actually read this thing!

Drugs suck. And what the *BLEEP* is up with the heightened sense of smell?

So, here I am wandering around in this sort of fog like my damn head is wrapped in cotton, feeling a little less like myself every day, thinking geez, at some point the effects of the chemo have got to wear off. And then it dawns on me. Pain medication. Last time I took heavy-duty pain meds for any period of time was after I had my wisdom teeth extracted about a dozen years ago. I only took them for about a day and a half, but I remember I felt like crap - horrible headache, fuzzy brained, couldn't keep my eyes open, and depressed all to hell. Stopped taking the damn things and felt great.

Yesterday I thought I'd forego the tramadol and see what happened.

Sure enough, after about 12 hours, things started to unfog. The headache is gone, but I also stopped taking the neupogen and the zofran, so it's not clear which was the culprit there.

The more I move around, the better my back/ribs feel, and Tylenol helped plenty yesterday when I did start to feel achy. So for now, the heavy duty stuff will be reserved only for days when I really can't handle it. I would much rather be sharp and in a little pain than a freaking walking zombie.

Which leads me to this question...why on EARTH do people get addicted to pain medication? I mean, aside from needing it for horrendous pain? There is just nothing alluring about feeling like your brains have been replaced with cotton candy...

And about my sense of smell...it's not the icky things that I can smell better...it's the things that used to smell good, like soap and laundry detergent. It's like I can smell the chemicals in everything. I might be employable as some sort of detergent sniffing dog. I'm going to buy scent-free laundry detergent today. but how much you wanna bet I can still smell it?

Plugging Away....

Me and Mojo are in a bit of a funk this week. Up and down, up and down...it's easy to stay positive on the days I feel really good and can stay busy, not so easy when I have a marathon headache or my stomach isn't cooperating.

I'd be a big, fat, hairy liar (and clearly, hairy is something I am not right now) if I said this wasn't the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. It's probably all the harder because I am such an active, outdoor person...if I sat at a desk all day and had no desire to exercise, it might not be so tough. But for someone who spent all day, everyday, outside doing a very physically demanding job, inline skating in my spare time, and riding my own horses daily...well, I'm kinda like a racehorse confined to a 24 x 24 pen for months with an injury.

Staying busy is a conundrum unto itself...it would be a lot easier if I could be physically active, but aside from walking, I'm kinda limited. Reading books is great, but I fall asleep fast -- and a lot -- when I read. I've worked on my websites, and spent a couple of days getting my Thrush Ninja! business organized so it will be easy to manage. Cleaning and laundry are good -- gets me moving and needs to be done anyway. Computer games don't help with the headaches, but eat up some time otherwise. I've never been a sudoku fan...maybe I should get some crossword puzzles. I need to start drawing more but haven't been particularly motivated (mostly because I try not to think about my horses too much 'cuz I miss 'em so...) Used to be there just wasn't enough time in the day. Now, it's exactly the opposite. Aaarrrgghh!

Good news from the docs alway helps. Today I got an A+ on my blood work...everything is better than expected. And my consult at UCSD has been moved up to Feb 24 instead of March 1. I'm anxious for the consult; it will give me a better idea of what the next couple of months hold. More good news -- if I need another 'round of chemo, I won't need any more lumbar punctures. THAT'S a happy thought!

Today WAS a good walking day. I was determined to make the most of that in case it decides to rain tomorrow. And Rosvita, you've inspired me to get a little map of the island and plan a different route every day.

After this, everything really will be cake...

Belated Birthday Visit

Mom and Dad came down from Hemet today to celebrate my birthday with me. They had planned to come down on my actual birthday last Wednesday, but we ran into a string of extenuating circumstances. First, Mom came down with a cold. We rescheduled for Saturday, and then realized that Coronado was going to be a mob scene with the "100 Years of Aviation" celebration going on at the base. They finally made it here today!

Here is the beautiful birthday cake they brought me:



Mom threatened to ignite the poor cake with 46 candles but I begged her to spare the cake and my smoke alarm and possibly my apartment (but she was just joking).

Not much else to report today....I think it's time for a nap!

Walking. A lot.

It feels like summer today. February's a little early for that, but I'm not gonna complain, because I was outside enjoying it and it was marvelous!

After my little vampire fix yesterday, I was much stronger today. I went for a couple of nice long walks. I focused on deep breathing to improve my lung function, which took a bit of a hit after a month in the hospital.

I finally figured out that most of the fatigue is pharmaceutically induced. The instant I lie down or lean back and rest my head, my eyes close and I start drooling (I know -- charming!). As long as I sit up and move around I'm fine!

I've suddenly realized just how much I was managing to fit into my days pre-diagnosis. Now the challenge is to learn to adjust to a slightly less supersonic pace.

I knew I was in pretty good condition going in to this, but I think even I underestimated how fit I really was. I've lost a lot of muscle, but I'm bouncing back strength-wise faster than I expected. (My case manager at Aetna was concerned about the fact that we have to climb a flight of stairs to get to our front door...hardly an issue!)

This is all excellent, of course, except that now I want to go do everything, and keeping myself entertained in a sedentary fashion just isn't gonna cut it. It's a good thing the horses are eight hours away, or I'd be sneaking rides for sure about now.

I'd love to start doing some (very) light strength training, but I have to be careful with my PICC line (no lifting/straining on that side). And picking up a jog is out for now.

Waaaaah!

So, I'll stick with plenty of walking. Which probably means a LOT of walking. That's okay...Coronado is perfect for that!

Drive-By Neupogen Shots...

Still making daily visits to 3 North for my neupogen shots. (Neupogen boosts white cell production and helps raise neutrophill counts after chemotherapy.) The staff mirthfully calls these visits "drive-bys", which I thought was pretty darn funny!

Today was a little more than a drive-by...I spent the better part of the day getting platelets and a unit of blood. And slept through most of it. They call it "hospital fatigue"... I swear, the minute my butt touched that dang hospital bed, I was nodding off. So it was sort of a lost day, but I did escape in time to enjoy the fact that it was a SPECTACULAR day. Spring has evidently sprung already.

Almost a month in the hospital has totally ruined me for daytime television. It's not just the bad programming though; it's more the inertia: the sitting-there-staring-doing-absolutely-nothing-productive. I used to really look forward to "movie days" when Kirk and I would just take an afternoon off and watch a couple of good movies. Right now that sounds colossally depressing!

So as I dozed through my transfusions, I noticed that today's hospital bracelet reflected my age after Wednesday's birthday. Now, truthfully, age has never really bothered me...I've always felt somehow better with age; or maybe not better, but "empowered" might be a good word. But...is it just me? or does 46 sound INFINITELY older than 45??? EEEEEK.

I Swear It's Not Contagious.

On our way home from the hospital after I was released on Sunday, we stopped by the pharmacy for some of my prescriptions. This was my public debut as a bald person outside of the hospital, and I wore my mask to go into the store.

Okay, granted, it's not every day you see a 5'9" 110 lb bald, masked girl climbing out of a Toyota truck in downtown Coronado. But I thought it was interesting how many people - adults - stopped and stared. I mean STARED - wide eyed and looking relatively horrified - and even when I looked right back at them, they kept staring.

It's not that I really cared. (In fact my new favorite thing to do is to stare right back at them and smile...although the smile is lost on them if I'm masked...which kinda makes it even funnier.) It's more that I wondered what the heck they were thinking. I mean, given my appearance, the odds that I was the victim of anything BUT cancer were pretty slim, so it's not like they were standing there going "oh my lord, what on earth happened to her???"

Maybe part of it is that I really don't feel compelled to cover up my bare head unless I'm protecting it from the sun, or it's cold. I can honestly say I never noticed what most women do under these circumstances...it's possible most people don a hat or wig or scarf. Then again, maybe it's just the pointy ears...

Then there's the tendency people have of giving me an exceptional amount of personal space. This is something I really appreciate, because it keeps their germs further away from me. Yet I suspect that's not exactly what's motivating them...

My consult with UCSD is now scheduled for March 1st. Can't wait to get the ball rolling on that! If you're curious about what a bone marrow transplant involves, here's some great, detailed info from UCSD's website.

Muddy Buddies...

Just a quick pic of Johnny and Mixer...still best buds...and clearly enjoying the mud!

Birthday Burgers!

happy birthday TO ME,
happy birthday TO ME,
happy birthday dear MEEEE,
happy birthday TO ME!

Got up this morning and had a beautiful (chilly!) walk on the beach. Made oatmeal with Craisins and brown sugar. After that I just generally took it easy. Yesterday's lumbar puncture knocked me down a little bit, so I was a napper today, but the headache's a little better now.

More than anything, I think I needed to catch up on some calories from last week. Just ate most of a burger from the Brigantine, and a big cup of fresh fruit...that oughta make a dent in the deficit!

I put on a pair of jeans today...you know, the pair that I could never wear before because they were WAAAY too tight? I was lookin' all hip hop in them today, 'cuz they were falling off and hanging down around my hip bones. All I needed was a wallet chain and some tighty whiteys. Guess I better eat more burgers...

I swear the trees and foliage around here have grown considerably in my absence. And it feels like SPRING -- which is especially weird because I essentially missed winter. That's okay...spring is good.

Time for a walk around the block, and then a little mindless TV...

Still at large.....

Reporting in after my fourth and final intrathecal injection. Once again, not such a big scary deal...the toughest part is holding perfectly still for the duration of the procedure. (Actually, I only realized how cavalier I've been about this process after Dr. Andrey let me catch a glimpse of the needle used for the procedure....holy crap....the thing's eight inches long and more of a tube than a needle...)

Afterward I spent the requisite hours lying flat on my back to prevent a post-lumbar puncture headache, although this idea has been debunked by several studies. Nobody was offering any better ideas, so what the heck right? I can lie flat on my back for a couple of hours. (In retrospect, that was harder than I thought it would be, 'cause I'm feeling pretty frisky today. Must be all that walking out in the fresh air!)

My biggest concern today was that they would find some reason to snatch me back into the hospital. Woulda been like trying to put a cat in a pool.....MEOW PPPHHHFFFFFFTTTT!!! Luckily everything looked good - Doc once again said I am doing very well with the treatment. I should have 14 - 21 days now to recover from the first round of chemo. Yipppeeee!

So here I am at my desk (damn paparazzi), happily surrounded by our saddles and a painting done by a friend of a friend about a decade ago. That's me (with lots of hair!) with my now 28 year old gelding Johnny No Spots.

You can see that I am now not quite as bald as a cue ball, because the clippers they had at the hospital weren't up to snuff. I'm a little tufty, actually...Kirk swears I have a "soul patch" right below the point on the back of my head. And then there's this sort of friar's fringe of baby-fine hair around the edges that doesn't want to give up and kinda sticks out this way and that and waves fairy-like in the breeze...

There's No Place Like Home....

Home is the best place on earth. No detail is lost on me right now...our super comfy couch...our super comfy California King with SOFT SHEETS...natural light...a bathroom you can turn around in...all my stuff (including my Mac with a screen you can actually see without a high-powered lens)...any food I want any time of the day or night...and my best friend/love of my life. Heck, it even just smells better here -- the smell of Purell hand sanitizer is quickly becoming my least favorite fragrance, and the hospital reeks of it!

Plus, it feels really good to be productive. Try as one might, there are limits to how much one can achieve with a dinky notebook computer and no access to the files on your main machine. (Taking care of that before they lock me up again!)

We have our ducks in a row now to start shipping Thrush Ninja! again. For the time being, we'll only be offering the one gallon Daily Frog Spray to keep things simpler for my minions here. Apologies to anyone who ordered this past month and received nothing but a refund. Thrush Ninja! was a one-woman show and I was completely unprepared for my entire staff to be hospitalized for a month!

Tomorrow I have my fourth intrathecal treatment...keep your fingers crossed they don't decide they need to lock me back up for any reason.

Dorothy was right...there really is no place like home.

Rally cap!

Feeling much more myself today...which is apparently to say much more manic and optimistic! Of course, an hour of the most maniacally upbeat (and/or aggressive) tunes off my iPod didn't hurt!

I am unpoled today (another step in the direction of freedom) and HUGELY enjoying walking in a circle without hanging myself.

Yippeeeee!

Endurance

Well, we’re just gonna forget about yesterday, because yesterday was a yucky day.

Today, so far so good…

I am definitely at the limits of my tolerance for captivity. Really hoping to get to go home for at least a few days. Doc says all my levels look good, so if I do okay today (stay hydrated and no nausea) I might get busted out of here tomorrow. Anything that needs to be done right now can be done outpatient, so CROSS YOUR FINGERS ‘cuz I’m going bonkers in here.

Seems like I’m always waiting…waiting for my meds, waiting for my nurse to bring ice, waiting for a blanket, waiting for the doc to make rounds. Everybody is wonderful, but there’s always something pending. It does start to test your patience. I keep telling myself I have nothing else to do, but I do sorta of try to have a plan for the next event (email! Ellen! Walk time!) and it chafes a bit.

I never considered myself a patient person. I guess I was right about that.

I guess the moral of that story is NEVER take your freedom and absolute autonomy for granted. And for heaven’s sake, don’t ever get yourself convicted of a crime, ‘cause prison’s gotta be way worse than this!

MIlestone!

Milestone today: finished the last dose of IV cytarabine this morning. I have one more intrathecal injection (lumbar puncture) next Tuesday, and I will have completed my first full cycle of chemo. Then we wait to see how the beast has responded. After that -- either another 'round, or we start talking about my transplant.

I'll tell you...after more than 20 days captive, I can't begin to imagine how hard it must be to be a horse on long-term stall rest. At least I understand why I'm here...it doesn't make it much easier. I get to wander outside a little bit each day, and there are definitely moments when I am in danger of bolting for the hills! I'm so used to being outside all day every day, I can't even imagine how people work indoors all day every day. AAAACKKK!!

Just a quick report today!

"Charlie don't surf."

So, along with each new barrage of chemo, I'm humming "Ride of the Valkyries" like a complete looney tunes, and envisioning a fleet of badass helicopters bearing down with deadly fire power on the beast. C'mon, kids, hum it with me now! (If I lost you on that one, it's an Apocalypse Now reference, as is today's blog title.)

Looks like I'll be humming a lot today: I have my third LP intrathecal injection this afternoon (one more next week), as soon as the 24 hour methotrexate drip is done. The cytarabin will follow. It's sorta like mixed martial arts oncology...no holds barred!

I awoke this morning from a dream about trout fishing. Now here's the thing...I really like to trout fish, and most especially with my friend Michelle. But in the dream, I was fishing with my Dad. And I don't think I've ever fished with Dad...at any rate, trout fishing got MoJo all choked up (go figure) as if trout fishing is something that I might really miss if I could never do it again. I dunno...I suspect it was my sneaky subconscious trying to get me to seize up and start perseverating about things that, frankly, don't matter right now. Energy best spent focused on fighting, fighting fighting!

I will mention here that I MISS MY HORSES SOMETHING FIERCE....now shut up, MoJo, you pussy.