Sleepy girls

It's 7:30, left coast standard time. Peg's been passed out since 6:15, Zoë since 5 or so after a swim meet. We have a backlog of favorite shows to watch (Psych, Glee, Big Bang Theory, Adventures of Merlin) so I'm hoping we can squeeze at least one in after dinner.

I went to the opening of a friend's art exhibition at the Crocker Museum in Sacramento with my buddy Michael Irwin...after having the best Reuben sandwich in recent memory at DeVere's Irish Pub.

Meanwhile, Michael's wife Lesley helped Peg with tax schmutz and kept her company. And took her for a walk. And was her usual wonderful self.

Peg's done with antibiotics, so I can retire my shingle as amateur infusion technician. One less medical thing to keep track of.

Little bits at a time

Peg was up for this photo and a walk up and down the block a few minutes ago...and she's flat again on the sofa as I write this.  Late mornings/early afternoons are becoming times when she needs to rest. She rallies later in the day and is up until she starts to run out of gas around 9:30 or 10.

Glad she got out. It's 70 degrees and everything's in bloom, including the flowering trees.

The game plan for now

Peg needs to be more than a week out from antibotics and a lot stronger to go back into chemotherapy, so she's scheduled for a week from this coming Wednesday. Hoping it will knock back the ascites fluid accumulation that makes Peg so uncomfortable.

Monday morning she gets a "tap" to take off that fluid, but she's still sporting quite of abdominal swelling from edema. On top of the double hernia.

Her appetite is better, and the edema will lessen when her liver starts cranking out albumen again with more protein intake. Al Bumen...wait, I knew him... bloody 'ell. But I digress.

The trip to Roseville wore Peg out. She's passed out in her "nest" on the living room sofa. Zoë's headed off for a swim meet. And I'm headed outside to check the drip system so the yard doesn't fry. Amidst all the mishegoss, there are still flowers and sunshine.

Tomorrow we meet with Dr. B. to see what the next steps are

Kristie Bobolis has been our oncologist from the get go. She's warm, funny, empathetic and clinically one of the very best in her field in northern California.

Tomorrow morning we'll bring a lot of questions as to where to go next. Peg's hospitalization due to sepsis was an indication her immune system is not as strong as it was even a few months ago.

Cancer treatment is a balancing act: quality of life vs. prolonging life. There are costs (side effects such as fatigue, flu-like syptoms and loss of appetite) and benefits (more time).  I don't want to freak you out, but I also don't want to understate how gravely ill Peg is and the degree to which we're weighing our options.

Just know that she is receiving the highest level of treatment possible from the brightest, most capable people in our area, all who deeply care for her.

Matching track suits? No, matching hair

Peg and I have always joked about getting older and having matching track suits (you know, the bulky sweat pants and hoodies with the ridiculous racing stripe down the pants). We're all about the matching hair. White, with streaks of whatever darker shades are left, swept alarmingly vertical. My full hair height has been mercifully cropped so as to not alarm the children in the audience.

Photo taken by Zoë, who was amused by the whole procedure.

The ups and downs

Peg, not so much. Though tonight Zoë and I both characterize her as "perky," she was flatter than a tortilla just three hours ago. Wide fluctuations in how much she's up for. At the moment, she feels really good and the three of us are going to watch "The Adventures of Merlin" on SyFy, which we're total pigs for.

Jeanette spotted me this afternoon while I took a bike ride in glorious 73 degree splendor, and dinner was taken care of by the goodies dropped off by friends. Amidst so much suckiness, we're wonderfully blessed by our friends and family.