Did Someone Get the License Plate?

We had a bit of a scare today when I got unwrapped to take my shower. Over the last few days, it seems the bruises from surgery have really developed. Dr. L warned us about this (I think - I wasn't really with it in the hospital...hellooooooooooo morphine drip). But neither of us tracked whether bruising was OK, or worrisome, or maybe both. Either way, I woke up in extra pain this morning, so when we discovered the fantastical colors hiding underneath the bandages, we called Dr. L. He wasn't sure what Zack was describing, so asked us to send pictures. That's right - we emailed digital pictures of my mottled, lumpy, steri-stripped chest to the doctor on a Saturday morning. Anyway, he called back and said everything looked fine, and to just keep up with the pain meds. So now you know, if those pictures end up posted on some celebutante website, just how it all started.

I'm Back

Having spent a thoroughly civilized afternoon - sitting up! in a chair! - I am feeling much better. My chest is very sore, and I have extremely limited arm motion, but I made it up and down stairs twice today with no ill effects. Solid food and I seem to have come to a new mutual understanding, as well. Even with a laptop, the keyboard is at the far end of my comfortable reach, so my posts will be short for a while.

24 Hours of Cancer

(Lynn) My mom said something great today at 4 o'clock: "24 more hours, and you don't have cancer anymore". In all the worry about the surgery and what it means, combined with the focus on the chances of recurrence, I'd forgotten all about this simple fact. The chemo knocked the cancer down to a (flat) golf ball sized lump, and the surgery will scoop out the remnants. Although there may be microscopic cancer cells circulating around my body, the cancer I've come to know so intimately over the last four months will be gone.

All I can say is, it has been a long week.

I've spent a long time looking in the mirror, both figuratively and literally. For me, dealing with cancer has meant 'going in', as my cousin says. Going inside my own perceptions about myself and the world, listening to my (constantly changing) feelings, and trying to regain equilibrium. On any given day, I am despondent, raging, resigned, and peaceful. This week has been the worst, emotionally, though I have felt the best physically.

The best part of the week has been the incredible outpouring of love and support we've received from every corner of the earth. I really needed you all this week, and you've been amazing. I am ready for the surgery tomorrow...I can't say excited, but I am as ready as I can be. It is just a change from one form to a new form. Caterpillars do it all the time, so how hard can it be?

(Zack) To the business at hand -- All of you have inquired about location information and timeframes. We know that we will be at the hospital until later in the day on Tuesday. I will post once I have more information on rooms, but here's the basics:

Lake Forest Hospital
660 North Westmoreland Rd
Lake Forest, IL 60045
847.234.5600

Thanks again to everyone for their support this far. This is a major step for us (but mostly Lynn). It has meant the world that you have been with us.



Something to focus your thoughts for the next 24 hours....