Yaaay it’s margarita time!!!

Hi all:

It is Hubby again celebrating the good news.

Alice had her post-treatment PET/CT scan this morning and we met with the Oncologist this afternoon.  While we were not expecting any bad news, it was good to hear from the “horses’ mouth” that everything looked fine with the scans and there was no evidence of disease (NED).  What was even better, as far as Alice was concerned, was that the good news was initially delivered by none other than Dr. McG as in DrMcdreamy.  Alice wants me to call him just Dr. G as in “G for Gorgeous”.  If you all remember, he is the good looking 6’8″ doctor with excellent bedside manners and exhibiting extreme competence.  As it turns out, Dr. G was doing his turn as a Fellow in the Oncology clinic working with Alice’s Oncologist (another Dr. G as in Michelle G).  Dr. McG explained to us some of the results of the PET/CT scan and told us that there was nothing to be concerned about.  A little later, we had a short session with both Dr. Gs and we were told to go ahead and re-plan our trip to India  and start to live our life normally.

I had been thinking for a week or so about how we were going to celebrate the good news but had no real plan.  However, having run into Dr. McG the only thing I could think of was to make a big pitcher of margaritas and invite Alice to help me drink it.  So we stopped at a State Liquor Store on the way home from the hospital and bought a bottle of tequila and margarita mix to go with it.  I always thought that nothing  symbolizes  celebration better than a margarita.  Besides, I knew that Alice, who is a non-drinker, liked margarita more than any other alcoholic drink and this was the only way for me to do a “one up on Dr. McG”.  Also, we may not see him any more as the next appointment for Alice is 3 months away.

Here are a couple of pictures of Alice helping me with the margarita.  You can also see that she is not wearing her wig in the pictures and her hair is about half an inch long.  I am trying to convince her that she really does not need her wig any more.  I am sure that she will stop being self conscious in a week or so.


lickin’ all the salt off

no longer a “baldy”

As I expected, we are at a loss.  We had always expected the good news, but now that it is here, we are not sure how to deal with it.  I am sure you all will help us.


we are all done for now!

Hello friends of Alice:

Sorry about sneaking in a post from me while you were probably expecting one from Alice.  In a weak moment I mumbled something like, “you want me to do a post for you?”.  She, ever the slave driver, jumped at it.  She is always trying to get me to do her work.  So here I am stuck with doing the post and I welcome all your sympathy.

Alice had her last radiation treatment yesterday and we really did not know how to celebrate it.  There were no side effects to worry about and the whole treatment regimen was rather mild and boring, at least from my viewpoint.  The worst part was  having to drive to the hospital every day, five days a week for four weeks.  Now that she was done with that, Alice felt like she was just freed from prison and didn’t know what to do with herself. Now neither one of us can handle a free morning.  It is a good thing that we are dog sitting for our daughter and I can occupy my mornings with a long walk with him.  Otherwise I would be nagging Alice about going to the gym.

We did have a celebration of sorts yesterday evening.  When I asked Alice what she would like for dinner (I still cook dinners most of the days) and gave her several choices including going out to a nice place to eat.  She wanted to go to a Vietnamese restaurant Indochine, where we had nice meals before.  So, that is what we did to celebrate her freedom from the daily drive to the hospital.

What is next?  We wait about four weeks for her next PET/CT scan and meet with her oncologist about the results.  Being an optimist, I expect a clean diagnosis “no evidence of disease” or NED.  Alice has already decided that NED is going to  be her new friend and we both hope that “he” is going to be around for a very long time.

We both are doing okay having gone through weeks and weeks of angst.  I am sure that we could not have handled it as well as we have without the support of Alice’s blog friends from all over the world.  For all of that a big Thank You.

end the week with humor

Tomorrow will be number nine of the 20 scheduled radiation treatments I’m currently undergoing. So far, no obvious side effects–not even a breast tan. Today I fell into chatting with two fellow radiation patients while we waited together in the waiting room. One, a young college student, today marked her next-to-last session. She had an aggressive tumor removed from her brain and will have undergone 30 rad treatments, just to–as her doctors say, “make sure any miniscule bad cells were hiding in there. I failed to register in my memory the cancer site of the other woman who looked to be in her early 60, perhaps ovarian but I’m not sure.  Her initial scan showed no surviving cancer cells, but I was struck by her remark–done in a “thinking out loud” sort of way–that survival rate for her cancer on a first-round basis was generally good, but NOT so good should she suffer a relapse. After her topical radiation is finished–6 more of 25–she’ll be back to undergo more radiation therapy, this time internal.

What I learned from this casual but surprisingly intimate conversation with strangers is that we all learn to cope, but we have in common that every one of us looks at life a little differently as a result of the experience. It’s probably redundant to say that we’ve all learned to separate the small stuff from the important stuff. Even better we now really understand that most stuff is small stuff, that’s just the way it is, and it’s too bad it takes a life altering experience to drive it home.

I was particularly struck by a remark from the older woman, that if by some magic she were given the opportunity to live her life completely over except without the cancer, she would say no. We all agreed we’ll never feel completely free anymore; there will always be that nagging fear no matter what all the scans reveal that it’ll come back.

That said, I think it’s a good idea to end the week, even though technically it’s not over, with a spot of humor.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

After closing time at the bar, a drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends.  He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.

“What’s up with the big brass gong?” one of his guests asked.

“It’s not a gong.  It’s a talking clock,” the drunk said.

“A talking clock?  Seriously?” asked his astonished friend.

“Yup,” replied the drunk.

“How’s it work?” the friend asked, squinting at it.

“Watch,” the drunk replied.  He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound and stepped back.

The three stood looking at one another for a moment.

Suddenly a voice on the other side of the wall screamed …

“You asshole!  It’s three-fifteen in the morning!”