Okay, so we were somewhere at the beginning of summer; waiting for Honey’s MD Anderson team to come up with a game plan for taking Blob down. We had been hoping to travel to the Pacific NorthWest in July to attend Oregon Country Fair (OCF) and to visit some long-time friends for a week but were waiting for the next appointment with Honey’s neurosurgeon before we made any plans.
Well, our next MDA appointment found us hurrying up to wait some more. We were told that an even more detailed MRI had to be done in order to show Blob’s density/consistency and that this would determine what exactly came next. We were also told that if we had the opportunity to travel that we should take it (for the record, that is not what you want to hear when you are meeting with your new husband’s cancer surgeon. Just sayin’.)
Anyway, we found great tickets that would get us to OR about four hours before the gates at Zumwalt (our campsite) opened. My bff had left a car for us at the airport in short term parking and we were on our way. Although we did miss the tailgate party while waiting in line for Zumwalt to open, somehow we ended up in front of all the folk who had been waiting in line since early that morning and secured the site we wanted for our crowd with no problem. Yay.
OCF was nothing short of fantastic. Honey was the prince at his own ball – everybody loved him (how could they not?) and continuously told me how lucky I was to have found my “The One.” He was so appreciated, that he earned his fair name during his very first visit. I’ve been in attendance seven times over the past 15 years and still do not have a fair name (not that I am bitter or anything). His fair name is Puck, just in case you were wondering.
Thursday we set up, Friday and Saturday we played and Sunday we broke camp and played some more. It was my most fun OCF ever – undoubtedly because of the company I was keeping. On Sunday evening, we caravanned back to Portland for the rest of our vacay. While there, we stayed with my bestie and her family. Her mom liked Morgan so much that she made him a vat o’soup and brought it over for a whole family sit-down (now that is love). We spent time down town, went to the Japanese Gardens and visited Multnomah Falls. It was truly a honeymoon worth having waited for.
We had a great time until Honey had a small seizure. (As yet another aside, Honey’s seizures present as body only and result in stroke-like paralysis of his left side.) Cue panic stricken wife, and action. We got in touch with MDA, got a prescription for Kepra and got on with it. Little did we know that this was going to be the harbinger of things to come for our next couple of months.
Upon returning to Houston, we went straight away to pick up G & C for the second half of our extended summer custody. Within days,Honey had had all of the tests and labs requested by his MDA team and we were on for our “how-are-we-going-to-treat-this?” appointment. This would be the last appointment with his neuro-surgeon (sounds ominous, huh?) in which we were informed that Blob was not operable because he was too wispy (damn that word – wtf does wispy mean, anyway? How can a lesion be wispy?) and that the team was concerned that they would take as many healthy brain cells as they would cancerous ones. Also – if this happened it would leave Honey paralyzed on his left side as Blob was currently residing in the right parietal lobe on the surface of his brain. Nice. Cue more panicky wife and take 2.
It was decided that the most effective way to begin treatment would be for Honey to take five series of oral chemo that would run for six weeks each before beginning again. We lived by the clock; making sure he took his poison every six hours on the hour. Honey really didn’t suffer the common side affects of chemo. No weight loss, no nausea, no extreme weakness; he did however get depressed and cranky but that may have been the chemo, the cancer or just having to deal with me and my moods.
I tried to work out a schedule of intermittant FMLA (family medical leave assurance) with the school district in which I work and thought that all would be well. Or well-enough. Or maybe well-ish. Hell, I don’t know whatI was thinking, but it would appear as if I was overly optimistic about the expediency of treatment.
Next up: spinning the world on one finger