I was sitting and watching the TV show Wipeout with the kids and I realized I know how these people feel. Things will be going along just swimmingly with me, then BAM! Wipeout!

I last posted on a Tuesday and by Friday night I started feeling a little feverish with some chills. Even cancer patients can have those “regular” things go wrong, but it got worse as the days went by.  I told Alan it was like a cross between the flu and the worst hangover ever, or so I’ve heard.  The Dr couldn’t find anything wrong except for blood work showing my liver levels were escalating. Good news: he sent me home.  Bad news: he thinks its the drug again, my friend, my enemy, Zelboraf.

It is so frustrating being sick and exhausted and unable to do anything. At least with chemo you have start dates and more importantly END dates.  With this drug the end date is failure – either my Mel starts growing around its effects, or it gets so toxic I can’t take it.  It’s hard to swallow some days. Literally.  If I can’t crawl out of bed, I get depressed and wonder “what am I here for Lord?” I’m not scared of my family’s life without me, they are so strong and faithful. They will figure things out.  I’m not afraid of being dead, I believe there is somewhere so incredible and full of love beyond this place, it will pale in comparison. It’s the lingering on in a useless, decomposing bag of flesh that worries me.

Back to Wikipedia… Liver, liver enzymes…. It’s nice to know  it can regenerate itself, like a tail on an lizard. From drug damage, or, say, too many margaritas. Or so I’ve heard.

We’d made plans to go to my Dad’s cabin on the lake for the fourth but I was almost too weak to shower. We went anyway. I mostly laid around and barked at people. I’m not always a good patient. Couldn’t hang in my hammock by the water, or join the kids on the boat, or do much of anything. Somehow though we were talking and I said that given the choice over this life and another, including cancer, I would do it all again. I am so blessed and hopefully each day I’ve done a little good for someone else.  I know He gives me opportunities every day, and although sometimes I fail, with each sunrise is a brand new chance.  I stood on the dock, looking at the water and said “Lord, thank you for these doctors and this nasty drug, without which I might not be here today.”

So I had three days off Zel and now I’m on a half dose for a week. Going back up to 75% Saturday.  “Tell me, what am I doing wrong?” I asked my oncologist.  I was supposed to be back in six weeks, I made it a week.  I feel bad for bugging them all the time, but they say it isn’t me. That must mean its my buddy Zel.  I have to stay on it while it’s working, and at a certain dose (75%) minimum so that it will be effective. I need to get this thing killed off in my heart.  So we try again.

I am feeling much better than I did a week ago. Mornings are best, afternoons are good, and evenings are hit or miss. Things go better when I can accept my limitations but I’m not very good at it!!  I was down to 109 pounds last week and not really eating, which was scary and my oncologist was not happy.

But this week I’m taking #3 to swimming lessons, pushing the summer homework, shamelessly overeating, volunteering with Music City Miles for Melanoma (save the date – OCT 6th) and we are headed to see Brave. Nothing but plain old summer days.  Thank you Jesus.

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