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When I worked in Basel, Switzerland I had a gorgeous view of constant moving and arranging of shipping containers.  For Christmas, someone had secured a small Christmas tree at the end of the crane arm so that it moved back and forth all day long.  I’m sure you couldn’t see it from the ground and given the limited audience, I wondered who would go to the trouble.  It added a touch of whimsy to my day.  I’m sure my neighbors, seeing my neglected white trash Christmas ‘yard art’ frozen to the ground are just as thankful.  The inflatables are stuck fast and as I told Alan, it’s like they need a dose of one of those drugs advertised on evening TV.  They just can’t get up.

I’ve had all kinds of medical tests and news in the past few weeks.  I had a spot removed from my leg whose pathology came back as a very rare sarcoma that often runs in Bernese Mountain Dogs.  Friday I will have the Frankentumor and the surrounding tissue removed and re-analyzed.  This is a very small procedure but should leave a good scar.  Then I guess they will check me for kennel cough.  Minus 10 points. 

My brain is stable.  50 points.  My abdominal CT showed absolutely nothing new or growing in any of my major organs other than the heart.  Big surprise and I give that one 20 points.  Roscoe though, dang him, has been a busy bee.  Minus 58,000 points.  My heart tumor has regrown, not quite as big as when it was removed, but pretty dang big.  I’m now taking a low dose of the MEK inhibitor Mekinist in addition to the Dabrafenib in the hopes it will stop Roscoe for the time being.  Neither of these drugs is a cure, nor was the surgery, and I knew that.  My platelets are half of what they were, from the tumor or tumors doing something I can’t understand.  I will have that rechecked tomorrow.

Time.  The desperate cancer patient scrabbling for more time.  There is a small chance the Mekinist will work, but for how long?  Only God knows.

Can-sera-sera.  Whatever will be, will be.

I have finally found the land of rainbows.  We were never able to take a vacation this summer so we booked a trip to Key West, rainbow city.  I don’t travel well, with my medicine and now my oxygen but I am so grateful we were able to go and once I got there, everything was good.  I woke up very sick the morning we left and as I looked at Alan steely-eyed from the shower, shaking so hard I could barely talk, I said “We are going”. 

The return was better.  I’d wheelchaired it on the flight down, and on the return it was in the computer so they insisted on the same.  Key West had heavy rain the previous day so I just know it was rainwater that soaked me as I sat down in the wheel chair, rather than some previous incontinent traveler.  This was after checking our bags, at the beginning of the trip home, only then to be practically molested by the TSA security agent.  It’s hard to spend your entire day in rainwater pants.  I’m sure it was rainwater.   

I think we all appreciated it more, knowing I’m coming to the end of the road, probably sooner rather than later.   What would you do?  Would you tell your children?  We’ve always tried to be honest with them.  I am certainly STILL HERE.

The weather was gorgeous except for one day of rain.  The stories about exotic animals living wild in South Florida are true.  One day was a FIVE IGUANA day.  One of them was scary and huge, maybe as big as my dog.  Or a horse.  Maybe it was even a Komodo dragon.  This was the end of sleeping with the sliding door open to hear the ocean.  I will download a track of ocean sounds.  Not worth it. 

We watched the sunset, played on the beach, napped, ate and drank whatever we wanted (regardless of new heart failure diet, ugh).  We took a trolley tour and although I hate them, I let Alan rent me a wheelchair so they could jostle and bang me all up and down Duvall Street.

The days flew by.  Then again, each one does.  Here I am 2014.  I am not afraid, but appreciative to God to be here today.  I’m rejoicing for friends doing well.  I’m praying for a better tomorrow for myself and so many others.  I am not without hope but I’d be lying to say I’m not weary and I still believe, either way I win.  https://nashvegasmom.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/either-way-i-win/

Almost four years of dealing with this darn melanoma.  Woof, Woof, Woof.

Praying for a Peaceful and Healthy 2014 for all,

Amy

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