More No News Is Good News

Yes, that does sound funny. But we're happy to report that there is nothing new to report! Janie is feeling fine, though the cough persists. She (ironically) feels much better on chemo day and the few days after...probably due to the steroids. Her voice still gets hoarse, more so on chemo day...also probably due the steroids?? She drags a bit by Saturday and Sunday. So she may be the one person on the planet who looks forward to Monday and chemotherapy!

In other news, I myself had a visit to the doctor. I have been having pain in my hip for a few months and finally broke down and let the doctor take a look. So off to the orthopedic doc who did my shoulder seven years ago. Funny, I get myself dressed up nicer than my usual day-off wear, so as to be on a level playing field...you know, fellow professionals and all that. The nurse shows me into the exam room and promptly says, "you'll need to wear this." I don't even need to describe this to you...you know what this is...I swear, I'm going to invent a keep-your-dignity-johnny and make a million bucks. The doctor never saw my professional looking getup.

So Dr. B and I discuss the situation and he says,
"mmm, yes, sounds x-ray worthy...follow me." So off we bound down the hall - himself fully dressed and me, not so much - past nursing staff and secretaries and waiting areas full of people and I think I saw the governor of Vermont and maybe Elvis and Sasquatch reading Field and Stream. Or should I say they saw me?

He says, "wait here," indicating another waiting room full of fully dressed people, with the exception of an old lady in a wheelchair who happens to be wearing - picture it - the very same gown as me. She leans in close as I sit down and says loudly, "look! We're twins!" I smile politely and agree, "I was just thinking the same thing!"

I pull up my socks and cross my legs so the johnny covers most but not all of my hairy legs and I try to casually read People magazine (I'm all caught up on Brangelina - ask me anything).

The rest is boring and the doctor didn't find anything but old age I guess. He'll let me have physical therapy if I want it, but the memories of my shoulder seven years ago are still too fresh. Physical Therapist = Sadist.

We are very thankful that the hip pain is nothing! Thank you Lord! Once cancer is in the family, it can even grow in your imagination. I of course pictured the baseball-sized-tumor where the ball-and-socket should be.

You also (sometimes) get a new (and better!) perspective on the little things.  Just before I was to head out the door in my fellow-professional-dressy pants, I saw that a stain I had tried to remove the day before had grown exponentially...and they were brand-spankin' new pants. Back before 2004, I'd have been upset: "argh! a stain on my brand-spankin' new pants!"  *rage*  "why do these things have to happen! Why couldn't the old ones have gotten the stain? These were brand-spankin'-new! " Etc. Etc. Blah blah.

Now that cancer is the big deal, it was, "ho-hum. Stain. Brand-spankin' new pants. Yawn. Put on another cause it's time to go."

As it turned out, I could have worn the stained pants since I'd have worn them only a few minutes anyway before the Grand Parade.