Drip, drip

Today's the day--and as I type, (awkwardly, due to the IV in my left wrist) the bad-cell-fighting drugs are coursing through my system.

We're sitting in the chemo clinic at OHSU, which is a remarkably nice place. I have a recliner, a view south of the construction on the waterfront, and glimpses of the Willamette River, which is muddy now that the ridiculous snow has melted. It's a classic winter day here, where the sun breaks through and gives us rainbows and mist, then the dark clouds roll back in, open up and pour rain. Mark & I are into our third hour of chemo--one hour of hydration saline, another hour of the real juice, and another hour of saline--and it's sort of reminding me of being on a plane. I've been reading and doing crossword puzzles, Mark taps away at his computer and patiently manages my attempts to get his attention. Every once in a while, someone will bring us something to drink--but no peanuts, so Mark's gone downstairs to the cafe to get some real snacks.

One major difference from air travel is that here, you get free massages. A fabulous volunteer massage therapist named Mary stopped by a while ago and gave me a fabulous foot massage, and didn't even make any cracks about my gnarled old feet & sparkly green toenails. I'm waiting for the mud pack facial next, but I don't think my dreams will be fulfilled on that one.

Anyway, all this rhapsodizing is simply to say that we've gotten treatment started. I was zapped with radiation this morning, with Aretha Franklin singing along and a sort of random picture of Sponge Bob taped to the ceiling. I'll be getting low-dose chemo once a week for six weeks, and a daily zap (weekdays only, please) during that same time. Strange to say, but I'm looking forward to it. Action!

Hope that everyone has a happy new year--raise a glass to good health & making the most of every minute.
love,
MacBlaines

Hell on Wheels

Forgive our slowness to post--Houston was hell on wheels. From the (first) snowstorm in Portland to an epic, longer-than-planned time at MDACC, a hotel full of state champ football players (this is texas, remember) celebrating until the wee hours, another snowstorm in Portland and Mad Max-esque scenes in two airports, it was too much to report. Needless to say, when we fell into a warm Portland bed of our own at 4am on Monday morning, we were happy to be home.

But, all of our waiting and feeling trapped was supplanted today, when our Texas doc called with the great news that the lymph nodes they took out were free of microscopic bad guys. We're surer than ever that we know what we're looking at, and feeling so grateful that the study gave us the rare opportunity to look so closely. My dad has compared this experience to feeling like a little frog deep in a well, looking up at the light. Today, the light is brighter and closer than ever.
We're in Oregon, covered with snow and ready to start the smackdown. Monday's the day.

Speaking of which, some of you will be glad to know that I finally have a tattoo. 3, in fact. Don't get your hopes up, they're pinpoint-sized dots on each hip and one in the middle, but I'm no longer a factory model. Apparently, when you have radiation, they like to have a consistent target. Mark tells me that if you look at them under a microscope they're each some version of a screaming eagle, flaming skull, hissing rattlesnake sort of thing, but I'm choosing to believe that each one is just a teeny, tiny little ninja.

All of this has obviously turned my life upside down, and I know I only post when I'm feeling strong and clear-headed. I suppose it goes without saying that there are moments of fear and frustration, but I can't say it enough: hearing from all the amazing people from so many corners of my life makes all the difference. There are ever-more moments of laughter and strength, thanks to your support.

So much love and Merry Christmas/Whatever You Celebrate,
jmb

Off Again....

It's a snowy Wednesday night in Portland, and I'm printing out crossword puzzles and getting ready for the red-eye to Houston. Our little hiatus in Portland has proven to be a blessing--besides just the usual home-cooking, wonderful parents-christmas shopping-real-life parts of being here, we actually made some progress (by being here on some weekdays) that we might not have made if we'd been in Houston. This morning, Mark & I jumped in the car (grateful for our fancy snow tires) and headed to Beaverton (ugh) to meet with the fabulous Dr. Sam Wang, radiation oncologist to the stars (or just me, at least.) He was great--had been talking with my docs both here and in Texas and is raring to get started, as am I. It was the first real meeting with someone whose focus is less on diagnosing and more on obliterating, and that felt great. He actually said, at one point:
"The good thing about this kind of tumor..."
[at which point I cackled and asked him if there's really a "good" thing about this little b^&8stard]
".... is that it's really responsive to radiation."
Music to my ears. (although I'm listening to my 2nd cousin Lesley Kernochan's cd right now, and feeling pretty happy about that, too.)

Anyway, he's got some figuring and measuring to do, which he'll adjust slightly depending on what Mission Control in Houston has to say, but either way he's got a solid plan. We do a dry-run measuring sort of business back in Portland on Monday am on Pill Hill, then have ourselves as normal a Christmas as we can, ready to dive in and actually start the attack on Monday 12/29. He said the little blast of chemo that I had a couple of weeks ago probably slowed the bugger down, but it's time to get on it and I'm more than ready.

But tonight, we're headed to Houston, and feeling as though we've got this thing in our sights.
Love & ninja kicks,
JMB

Hurry Up & Wait

Well, we were all packed and about to head out onto the snowy streets of Portland toward the airport, when the phone rang. My appointment in Texas was moved from Wednesday to Friday, so we called off Frank's Airport Shuttle, did some more fun travel planning-scurry, and settled into a few more days in OR. While it was frustrating to have to scramble a little and I'm not very tolerant of plans changing these days, now that I've had a nap and a walk and some time to think about it, it's actually fine. We have a few more days to renew our spirits, Oregon style, and touch base with our OHSU folks while we're in the same time zone.
So now we're heading to TX on Wednesday night, back Sunday. Hopefully, that will stick, so I won't have to unleash my frustration on the poor souls at Travelocity once again.

I hope everyone's staying warm (especially those in the frozen northeast and frozen-and-wimpy pacific northwest).
love,
jmb & the ninjas

Back in Portland, for the moment.

After a very intense but ultimately satisfying week in Houston, we're back among the tall dripping trees and clear air of Portland. We slept in familiar beds and are currently drinking some real coffee.
Long story short:
-The PET scan was totally clear except for one pesky spot that we already knew about. This is fabulous news, and confirmed our mantra that this f^&*er is isolated.
-Because it's so isolated, our wonderful doc in Texas has recommended a treatment plan that combines low-dose chemo with radiation (which is the standard, tried & true treatment for cervical cancer, regardless of cell type and pioneered at MDACC). We'll do this over the course of 6 weeks here at OHSU, starting the week after next, because...
-I've managed to qualify for a study in Houston that will give us even more information about this little beast (on a microscopic level). Bummer is, we're headed back to Houston for a few days and some quick outpatient surgery this week. Good news is we'll be totally, completely sure about the beast & the treatment when we start back at OHSU. Information junkies that we are, we're happy to take on a little inconvenience. I'll be the 49th person to add a lymph node or two to the data set, and hopefully help out women who follow me on this path.

So, we're at my mom's house, looking forward to a walk with our dog, some laundry, errands & dinner with all the parents. It feels great to be home and armed with a plan.

Many, many thanks for your blog posts, cards & treasures. I'm so grateful for the the universe of people around me--It really makes all the difference.
Love,
Jess, Mark & The Ninjas

Houston continued

We had a sunny day today in Houston, but that's not why you're reading this. Jess had a PET scan today—she was injected with radioactive glucose and then had to sit very still for about an hour while the scanner detected increased cellular activity. It's more sensitive for certain things than an MRI. We hoped for more news today, but we haven't got much. We figure we'll get that news at 9 am tomorrow and then, Lewis Taylor-style, Jess will start on this thing tree to tree. We hope that will be Douglas-fir to Douglas-fir, but if it's post oak to post oak, we're ready for that, too.
Love and ninja kicks,
Jess, Mark, Eloise and the ninjas

Houston, Day 3?

As if Houston, and our reason for being here, weren't surreal enough--it's snowing.
Yesterday was a day full of waiting rooms and blood taken and prodding and more waiting rooms, getting records to doctors, recounting the scene. We didn't learn anything new, really, except that these people know cancer and have a lot of resources, which is exactly why we came.
But, today, the docs are making their plans and getting organized, and the remaining scan I have to take isn't happening until tomorrow, so we had a full day to just recover from what was emotionally sort of an intense day yesterday.
So, we pretended to be here on vacation (took a lot of imagination, let me tell you) and took in the part of Houston that seemed most interesting to us: the Mark Rothko chapel & the adjoining Menil Collection. It turned out that some incredible art in two very different but beautiful buildings was exactly what I needed. The Rothko chapel is sort of dark and minimalist, but once you stay there a while it feels like the paintings just open up and the light is brighter and more like dawn than anything--a metaphor that speaks to my heart just now. After that, a wander through the bright and modern Menil Collection, that has a surprisingly cool population of surreallist and modern art. Watching a Calder mobile slowly swinging over my head was a wonderful experience.
We also had a really nice breakfast with my step-cousin-to-be (long story, but a large part of the reason we were able to get through the MDACC maze so quickly) which was a good dose of sociable, normal life. Later in the day, we stocked up on fancy cheese & snacks & movies, and are staying in tonight.
Now I'm feeling like the kind of person who makes you watch slideshows of boring vacations, so I'll stop the travelogue.
Anyway, we've got a full day tomorrow of planning meetings & appointments, so hopefully a plan of attack will be formed soon.

Again, thanks for the encouragement & warm thoughts,
JMB & Team Ninja

Houston, Day 1

We're here, after an easy trip and a strange rental-car navigation of suburban Houston, installed for the night and ready to get going at MDACC tomorrow. The light little blast of chemo I had last week did, if anything, settle my spirits a little (at least we're doing something) and made me nice and tired to get through the inevitable waiting that will hopefully really be done soon. We've got an appointment in the morning and no solid idea of where this is going next, except for the following key points, that Mark reminds me of constantly:
1. It's isolated.
2. It's early.
3. We've got the best of the best on the case.
4. And it's going to be fine.
So, to that end, Mark & my sweet mama & I had martinis and cracked crab in super-surreal Houston tonight, and look forward to some action starting tomorrow.

I can't tell you how much it means to read everyone's blog posts--I know it must feel a little impersonal, but let me assure you, each one is read and absorbed with great love & gratitude for your presence, love, sweetness, honesty & support. It means everything.
Big love & we'll keep you posted!
JMB

The Latest: Friday

Jess had a round of chemotherapy on Wednesday, but there continues to be discussion about her diagnosis and treatment plan. We likely will be heading to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center on Monday for more information and hope to have a clear plan of attack by the middle of next week. It's an unusual thing that she's got, and we want to cover all of the bases.
We'll keep you posted.
Thank you to everyone for their good cheer, wishes, kindness, sincerity, totems, rituals, pictures...it all helps.
Love,
Jess, Mark and Family