1.31.11

AYNSLEY:
Farewell January. We really are approaching Imbolc and the very beginning stages of the first thaws. Though of course everyone east of the Mississippi is calling "bullshit" on that one. And tonight driving home I kept my gloves on in the car. But still, we do know deep down that winter is drawing his final breaths. And the promise of spring surrounds us.

Mom's marijuana is definitely kicking in. Today she took a slice of apple and sighed with pleasure. "This apple is amazing. It's amazing, Ayns! It has so many flavors going on, it's crisp and it's juicy. Oh, wow!" Umm, yeah. To be fair, this was also after her second systemic chemo treatment, before which the doctors pump her full of medications that leave her manic, loopy and hilarious. But really, she sounded like a stoned teenager. She ate so much food today-all of her cream of wheat and peaches for breakfast, half an egg salad sandwich and chips for lunch, a few bites of apple, scone with jam, tuna salad, chocolate, taffy, chocolate chip cookie and juice for a snack and lots of soup for dinner. She was wide awake and alert all day, finally calming down for a nap around 4pm, and then she only slept for about an hour and a half, tops. I expect that she'll have a bit of a medication hangover tomorrow, in addition to being wiped out from her second systemic chemo treatment.

The good news about her treatment is that she only has to leave KG once a week. Due to cancer vacating her CSF, the intrathecal treatments have been cut in half, to only once a week. And the systemic will go on a two weeks on, one week off rotation; today was week two, so next week she gets a rest and only has to have the CSF chemo treatment. Her oncologist has also decided that she should go to the Bellevue Group Health oncology treatment center for her treatments, which I'm stoked about. It's adjacent to Overlake (and thus across the street from Whole Foods) and a really nice and quiet facility, with very easy parking. With this new development, I may be able to go home for a little while and feel okay about it; I know what the plan is for the next few weeks.

Just for the record, some people have been asking, Mom has triple negative breast cancer. I'm sorry if that wasn't communicated previously, but that's the diagnosis. It hasn't officially been staged, but it's my understanding that it's Stage IV, based on the way it spread and where it is now.

And now, some requests:

• I haven't mentioned this in previous posts because I'm terrified to jinx it, but Mom has been having some visual sensory episodes. She can sometimes see shadows and can tell if there's been a change in the light in the room. Today she said she saw the sunshine. And she saw me standing in front of her the other day (she thought I was a wall). So, the next time you think of her, if you could send a prayer, vibe, image, whatever, focusing on her regaining her vision, we would all be eternally grateful.
• Please please please, NO MORE baked goods! I know everyone wanted to send treats for her birthday, and everything she has received is amazing and delicious. But we're at capacity. There's a huge drawer filled with snacks that we're going to have to throw away in the next couple of days, and that's very sad. So if you're thinking about baking, put that energy into Mom regaining her vision instead.
• Please respect that the past week has been very hectic and that we may not get a chance to reply to emails or texts. If you haven't gotten confirmation of approval to visit, please don't come. If you need to plan a few days in advance, that's not going to work for her-we don't know exactly what time her therapies are and we don't know when she'll need a nap or a shower. I'm not trying to hurt anyone's feelings, but at this time, support from the periphery is more meaningful and helpful.

I need everyone to understand that she is very sick and is undergoing heavy duty treatment. Her rest is a crucial aspect to her recovery.