our good news day

Yesterday was our long day of tests and decisions at the KU Cancer Center.  Normally, after all these visits, Mohamed and I are rather blasé about these days, but I'll have to admit that this time, after the full month's break in chemo, we were both a little apprehensive.  We were up at the crack of 6 a.m. and out the door an hour later.  It was still dark when we left, which meant that driving into the rising sun wasn't fun for Mohamed, especially in the morning KC rush hour traffic.

The first stop is drawing blood and putting in an IV, which I need for the part of the scans with "contrast."  I had an unfamiliar phlebotomist, a woman named Ted.  Her real name, she said, was Edwina, but she'd early chosen to go by Ted.  She was efficient and chatty and said that I was "fun" and "a tough old bird."  Fun--not so much these days; tough old bird, a phrase I've been known to apply to myself.

Next we descended to the basement, where I changed into hospital pants, which promptly fell down the first time I walked down the hall with them, removed my shoes and shirt, and began drinking the two large, cold cups of water.  Rather quickly, I was called for the x-rays--19 of them in all from head to toe.  The technician was impressed with the size of my titanium femur.  Then there seemed to be a long wait for my turn in the CT scanner.  Because of the heat the various machines in that part of the center generate, the temperature is kept very low.  I always shiver, despite the warm blanket they give me.  The scans went quickly, and shortly before 11 we were done.

We met our friend TJ at Stroud's, home of the world's best pan-fried chicken, to say nothing of their cinnamon rolls.  The restaurant has been featured several times on the Food Network.  For years, the only location was in North Kansas City--an old house mobbed on weekends. Some time ago, they opened a branch near the cancer center, and since my appetite was still good, I figured I should take advantage.  TJ sings with and is marketing director for KC's gay chorus, the Heartland Men's Chorus.  They're part of the T-Mobile commercial montage of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," which runs right after the "God Bless America" seventh inning stretch during the World Series.  Since no food is begun before the order is placed, we had a nice, long time to chat, and TJ is always an entertaining conversationalist.

At one o'clock we were back at the center, ready for our consultation.  And the results were all good.  Despite the month's respite, the primary tumor hadn't grown at all, not one millimeter.  What a relief!  We ruled out switching to another chemo treatment: why start all over again with no specific idea of the side effects of the new drug or of its efficacy?  Dr. Van asked if we wanted to try another month without chemo, but both Mohamed and I had already decided that we weren't ready to push our luck, so last night, for the first time in a month, I swallowed two pills of Votrient.  Hello, old friends.  One of the immediate side effects is that Votrient raises blood pressure, and so for the past three years, I've been taking three anti-hypertension meds.  We'll go with just two meds for the moment, but with daily monitoring and we'll go back to the center in a month, rather than the normal six weeks, to see how everything is going.

All in all, it was a great and comforting trip to KC.  I crashed when I got home, but that's normal, and then watched the Royals demolish the Giants.  Just for a little class, tonight the national anthem will be sung by one of the world's greatest mezzo-sopranos, Joyce DiDonato.  Go Royals!