Half way through

Today I'm happy about...
Getting through this stressful day
Lulu being done with half of her chemotherapy treatments
Getting home safe form SF
Getting to bring Lourdes home tomorrow

We arrive home to Reno about 11:00 PM. I liked driving back later in the day, because traffic was much lighter then the last two return trips. After spending the day in the cancer center, Lulu wanted to return clothes to Nordstroms, so I made a timely stop at the Westfield shopping center off Market street. (I think that it's important to try to keep Lulu busy with things that sees as happy events, and this is something I knows makes her happy). We returned a few items and then eat in the food court, before making the 4.5 hour trek back to Reno.

Today was intense for both of us. The day started with Lulu and I eating a nice continental breakfast at the hotel (Inn at the Opera). My godparents were thoughtful and very generous in reserving us a suite here (I guess that the "rusty door" story made them feel sorry for us). I have to tell you this place was a extremely nice place to stay during our visit. Another great show of hospitality by family and friends. I don't want to bore you with the specifics of my breakfast, but I want everyone to know I only had OJ, english muffin, and some fruit. Hard to believe that I could resist to more tasty stuff that's bad for you, but at least I've been strong when it comes to what I can eat.

This morning we had appointment with the oncologist to discuss the next chemotherapy regiment of Taxol, and to see how well the previous treatment have gone? After sharing pleasantries (how's the rest of our kids doing, is school starting soon, how's the newest member of the family doing in the NICU, when will she come home, and us asking her about her kids and family?) the doctor moved into the examination phase of the appointment. As i watched my wife get examined, I felt anxious, and was praying that the doctors hands were going to find cancer tissues, once invading her breasts, completely gone? During the two minute breast exam, the room was eerily quiet, and the time seemed to drag on for forever? I don't know why but every time Lulu gets examined, I think that either the results will be good news or bad? I'm not sure I was prepared for the doctor to tell her that she feels good about how the chemotherapy treatment is progressing, and that she didn't think that Lulu's breast masses have changed much?

The anti-climatic appointment ended in the discussion of the next course of treatment including the dates for surgery, and the expectations for having the Taxol part of the cancer treatment? Though, before the oncologist left us, she briefed us on the about how Lulu had been voted the best patient that was presently going through treatment. She went on to say that Lulu's attitude, pleasantness, and her smiling face were a joy to have as a part of their routines (though she did add that they would have preferred never to have meet her at all, but of all the patients being treated they most enjoyed her). I could see this was a ego inflater for Lulu, and I have to admit that I got some pleasure out of knowing that she is my wife.

I had all the intentions of handing out a few more "well wishing" cards from my boys, but I didn't fair too well at this chemo session. After lunch(we went to have Falafal at a nearby greek restaurant, and I'm still not sure what Falafal is, but we ate every bit of it?) Lulu and I returned to the infusion unit at the clinic for the last dosing of the AC chemotherapy. I had the aspirations of milling around, meeting new friends, giving out cards, and spreading the J. (I'm also known as J period to my family) cheer; however, once I had supported Lulu in getting her treatment started, I feel asleep. I'm not sure how this happened, but I think that the back pain on top of the stress of Lulu's treatment/consultations, wiped me out? I was sleeping upright, in a plastic chair not dissimilar to the one you'd find in a doctor's office waiting room, so I must have been exhausted? I was supporting my head with hand, and my arm on the armrest. When I woke, I could hear the adjacent patients and their supporters whispering about how cute Lulu and I looked, sleeping next to each other, as she got her chemo drugs. I was wondering whether or not I was snoring for a part of the nap, or worse, drooling all over myself? Today wasn't going to be the day I changed anyone's lives, except for my own and that of my strong, loving wife.

After the nurse unhooked Lulu from the infuser, we tried our best to slip out the door without being noticed? Not so much of embarrassment, but from total exhaustion of the emotional strain these two days had upon us. As we arrived at the car, I reached out my hand to lightly hold Lulu's, and slowly and compassionately informed her that she was halfway through the chemotherapy treatments. I'm sure that I saw a tinkle of relief, if only briefly? The drive home was a quiet. I know that I was reflecting on the trip, and I'm pretty sure that Lulu was numb with uncertainty?