“The one where I roll my eyes and say ‘Whatever!’ and make little jokes when inside I’m about ready to scream or punch somebody in the neck or both"

Because that's healthy and theraputic.

So, cancer.

Several of you have been kind enough to ask, so I’ll fill you in on our little corner of the world. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to share, it’s just that I don’t know what’s worth sharing and what should be ignored as putrid nonsense spewing forth from the chaotic mess I like to call my brain.

Kendrie: Still kicking ass and taking names, baby. A recent upshot I’ve learned about her treatment is that one long term effect of the chemotherapy is a tendency to soften teeth. Which, considering the crooked chompers she’s got coming in, and the years and years of orthodontics staring us in the face, is probably a good thing.

Me: Had my finger-quotes-surgery-finger-quotes last week at the dermatologists. Five minutes and ten stitches later, I am apparently skin cancer free. Although my career as an underarm supermodel has been cut tragically short.

Blaine: (sigh) One step forward, two steps back. I’m not even sure what to tell and what not to tell. Let’s go chronologically:

Friday Jan 19th -- had outpatient surgery scheduled to have a tube placed in his right ear. Due to the scar tissue buildup from all the surgeries, and the radiation on that side of his face and head, he can’t hear out of that ear, so its believed that a tube (What is he? Like, three years old?) will help him hear better. I’m all for him getting the tube because I’m sick and tired of thinking he is ignoring me whenever I talk to him and he doesn’t reply. Unfortunately, the procedure had to be scrapped because they couldn’t get an IV going --- not in his arm, his foot or his neck. Can you believe they tried to get an IV started in his NECK???? Who *does* that? {shudders} Anyway, apparently after being poked nine trillion times over the past four years, his veins have basically responded with an “Oh no you DON’T any more!” and retracted into his body. Every single vein. So, no tubes. Still not sleeping for shit.

Wednesday Jan 24th -- Finally got the referral from the insurance company, and was supposed to have a CT with contrast so they could get a good look at the mass on his shoulder. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, they weren’t able to …

Wait for it ………….. wait for it………..

Get an IV started. SO! They did the scan anyway, but with no contrast, which means the picture won’t be as helpful in determining what the heck is going on. But, they reassured him that regardless, the report would be delivered to his primary care doctor by Friday. Still not sleeping for shit.

Thursday Jan 25th -- awake at 3am (did I mention he’s not sleeping for shit?) and drove to Ft. Gordon in Augusta for his surgical pre-op appointment, which included an exam, consults with ENT and surgery, x-ray and bloodwork --- they did manage, somehow, to access a vein this day. Go figure. This is in preparation for the surgery he is having next month to have posts put in his implants -- one step closer to teeth! He requested they do a little (repeat) cosmetic work (collagen) on his cheek since it’s caved in …. Doctor said no, he didn’t want to mask any potential problems (ie, more cancer) that they will be checking for when he goes to Seattle for his next MRI in March. They do, think, however, that they can go ahead and put the ear tube in while he’s already in surgery. Discussed doing a picc-line so he doesn’t continue to have problems with IVs all over town. Appointment lasted all damn day long, and while driving home from Ft. Gordon that night, he was pulled over for what appeared to be drunk and reckless driving on the highway. Blaine’s reply? “I wasn’t drunk or reckless. I’m exhausted, and was just in a hurry to get home and go to bed.” Still, the police officer wouldn’t let him get back behind the wheel, so the kids and I had to go get him. Luckily, he wasn’t far from home and his pick up truck got to spend an exciting night in the Best Western parking lot. I’m sure later, we’ll laugh about the fact all three kids started crying when they saw the blue lights flashing and assumed their poor exhausted sleep deprived father was going to jail.

Friday Jan 21st -- found us anxiously awaiting results of report. Called primary care doctor not once, but twice that day, to see if report was in. Also e-mailed nurse twice. Primary care doctor didn’t call back that day; we gave up hoping he would call back when he hadn’t by 9 pm that night.

Can anyone deduce that I’m not having a pink puffy heart relationship with Blaine’s primary care doctor? I realize he’s not the boss of the report and if it wasn’t delivered to him, well, he can’t just pull the results out of his ass. But don’t you think the polite, professional thing to do would have been at least return the phone call to let us know he doesn’t know? To say “Hey, I’m sorry, I know you’re waiting to find out if the cancer has come back, but so am I. No news here either” --? Are my expectations really that unreasonably high?

So, in a nutshell, he’s been poked, prodded, jabbed and stabbed. He's sleepy. And we still don’t know any more than we did. Except he’s deaf, with retracted veins and a big lump on his shoulder. I guess we could rename him Quasimodo and be done with it. Just get him some church bells to ring and call it a day.

He’s getting discouraged and anxious, which makes me discouraged and anxious. Then I get annoyed with him for making me discouraged and anxious. I’m starting to wonder if therapy is far off. The kind of therapy where I put him in a big canvas bag with a lot of heavy rocks and throw him off a bridge into a river. Or the kind of therapy where I clear out our savings account and move someplace with a sunny beach and umbrella drinks and well-oiled muscular men to wave me with palm fronds. Oh, wait, there’s those pesky kids to think of. So I guess in the meantime I’ll just continue with my current therapy, which is eating my weight in chocolate and drawing mustaches and horns on photos of his doctor.

Because *that’s* healthy and therapeutic.