Can't have a bad hair day...

If you don't have hair. Yesterday Peg decided she was done with being the Johnny Appleseed of hair follicles-- strands scattered over the pillowcase, clumped like a small mammal at the shower drain, carpeting the bathroom floor. So our friend Trish, who did Peg's hair for 15 years, came out to the house and undid it. Peg is now buzzed, and we're not talking about cocktails.

Trish thought that with some really big hoop earrings and a black dress Peg could come across as the editor of a Euro fashion magazine or a New York film critic. If she doesn't want to go that route, she does have a cute wig.

She feels a lot better today. The key seems to be staying hydrated, so she's tracking her liquid intake-- miso soup, bouillon, juice, water. She's got an appointment to get tapped again Monday morning (paracentesis to remove abdominal fluid), so we're going to make sure her tank is topped off all weekend.

2 liters out; 2 days later, 2 liters back in

Last night Peg was running on all eight cylinders and we were able to make a stir-fry dinner together for the first time in six weeks. Today... not so much.

This morning Peg awoke to really bad chills and a slight fever. It took an hour just to get her to stop shaking. She had an existing appointment at 10:30 for a blood analysis at Dr. B's, and they determined she was dehydrated and put her on a two liter IV drip.

What happened was that her fluid intake couldn't keep up with the amount drawn from her abdomen the day before yesterday.

We used the wheelchair I bought a month ago for the first time to get her from the car, across the parking lot and down a long hallway to the office. But she was able to walk all the way back three hours later. Right now (5pm) she's thoroughly poohed. Lotta stuff to go through today.

By the way, it was Peg's idea to have the upside down liter bottles on this entry. We both had a much-needed laugh at the thought.

Many of you have wondered how Zoë's doing. She's staying busy, which we really encourage. Peg's sister Jeanette took her out to see a movie yesterday, some dear friends took her out kayaking on Lake Natoma today, another dear friend is taking her ice skating tomorrow afternoon. In between social engagements she piles through library books; we get 8 at a time or she quickly runs out of stuff to read. In three weeks or so she starts high school (!) which she's really looking forward to. Her nature is basically cheerful, and she's not a complainer, but I can tell she's restless sometimes and wishes we could play more often than we have lately.

When Peg feels good, she loves playing card games or snuggling with Zoë. She looks forward to those days, and tries to make the most of the other days. As those of you who know her well, Zoë is very considerate and kind. That helps all of us.

Tappin' the Peg keg

Sometime soon the chemo will start knocking back the amount of fluid being generated in Peg's abdomen. For the short term, she's been filling back up. Today she got some relief, 2.6 liters worth-- my estimate was just .2 liters off (Reminder to self, start a betting pool).

Her energy has been picking up, but she's really still just good for short spurts of activity. Even reading or watching TV for extended periods is enough to send her back to the sofa. Peg's a big fan of her iPod and the Radio Shack iPod speaker thingy it plugs into. If you want to do something for Peg, a great thing would be to burn a CD of something you think she'd like and drop it by the house. Spoken word stuff welcome as well.

Tomorrow is wig shopping day with Zoë, Peg's sister and two dear friends. For some reason she's resistant to my suggestions for either a mullet or a huge, Angela Davis afro. With a pick.
Sooooo tempted to Photoshop that one up for your amusement... but I'd like to stay married, so that's not gonna happen, cap'n.

First time harvesting the garden

She felt well enough to harvest some veggies and has been up most of the day, reading and being able to sit up for extended periods for the first time in weeks. Gleefully whomped down the yummy mashed taters and gravy our friend Traci dropped off.

Hope you enjoy this walking tour of the garden, which I recorded tonight just before sunset:

Good news today

Dr. B. feels like Peg got a full dose of chemo last week and doesn't need to do the next round until a week from next Wednesday.  We were expecting her to be hospitalized overnight-- had her bag packed-- but she's having lunch here at the house as I write this.

This is the part of the treatment cycle where she'll feel better over the next few days and put some weight back on.  Dr. B. recommended mashed potatoes with butter and sour cream.  I concur with the doctor and look forward to whippin' 'em up from scratch... I think the last time we had mashed taters here was about a year ago.

Another bit of good news is that for the next round of chemo, the plan is for her to be treated in the outpatient clinic on a four-hour IV drip.  So potentially, no hospitalization for the next few weeks. Yay!

Peg was out in the garden today

Peg spent about 20 minutes with Zoë collecting veggies and dead-heading flowers.  She tends to push the envelope, which will help in her recovery, but leaves her a little short of breath in the meantime.  I have to remind her she doesn't need to do everything, by herself, all at once.  She's skinnier but entirely full of p**s and vinegar. 

Zoë and I prod her into eating every two hours, because she has a diminished appetite and a need to bulk up.  Peg's even requested something we all agreed was as dangerous as Plutonium in our house and agreed to banish a few months ago-- Trader Joe's Frozen Macaroni & Cheese.  How many calories per serving?  Don't ask.  Seriously.  Peg needs the protein, and I'm willing to latch on to a convenient excuse to indulge in the penultimate Mac n' Cheese Experience.  "Yeah, Peg, I'm whompin' this down... for you. Yeah, that's the ticket..."

It was great to see her outside today in the waning afternoon sun.  What a radically different experience than being hermetically sealed inside an oncology wing of a hospital, 400 feet inside a winding air conditioned corridor, ten miles and 400 carpeted feet from the rich earthiness of the garden we've created as a family.

Peg's home, for now

We busted her out of The Joint at 5pm with Dr. B's blessing.  She's tired, but the color is back in her cheeks.  She was able to get another paracentesis at 2:30pm-- 3.1 liters this time.

She's not experiencing any nausea, but has heavy-duty prescription anti-nausea pills on hand if she needs them.  She'll rest at home until Thursday morning, when we'll head back out to Roseville for a consultation with Dr. B to determine if she'll do the abdominal port or the 24-hour drip.  So she could be home again Thursday afternoon, but at the latest Friday midday.

Then she's here for 12 days before being hospitalized again for the next round.  This will be the rhythm of our lives for the next four or five months: Peg in for 4 days, out for 3, in for 1, out for twelve.