“Pick the day. Enjoy it - to the hilt. The day as it comes. People as they come... The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present, and I don't want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future.” ― Audrey Hepburn

Well, here I sit, trying to put into words my world and not having much luck at it.  Sam and I went to Tok and Fairbanks over the weekend, enjoyed every minute of it, ate at Fast Eddy's, watched some of Tok Sled Dog races, drove through some hellacious snowstorms, froze our butts off, listened to a semi idling just beneath our hotel window all night, drove into Denali as far as we could, and rushed home Sunday for Sam's CT scan and MRI on Monday morning.  The doctor's appointment, scheduled for late this afternoon, got cancelled by the doctor himself who called Sam directly about the tests. Oh boy.  But before I get to that, I need to back up a few weeks.

On the shores of Kauai.  Oh how I wish we were there again!

Friday, March 8, my cell phone rang just as I walked into my office from a meeting.  Normally, I always have my cell phone with me, but this particular time, I did not take it to the meeting with me,therefore, I did not see the text Sam sent.  The text said, "I'm sorry but I need you to come home."  Well, guess what, he called as well (smart man) and all I heard was, "I need your help, you need to come home."  As I ran down 5 flights of stairs and across the parking lot to the truck, I realized I at least grabbed my bag since it had my keys because I did not have my coat, gloves, boots, nada.  Even better, very little traffic in my one mile flight home to quickly park and run back up 3 flights of stairs, gather myself as I ran down the hall to find my husband in the most intense pain I have ever seen him in.  Apparently, his pain had increased dramatically the previous few days and he decided to increase his pain pill dosage, unbeknownst to me, of course.  For those of you who are unaware, pain pills tend to make a person very constipated, so the more you take, the more constipated you become.  For Sam, taking more pain pills to manage the pain, in turn created even more pain because he became more and more constipated, creating a viscious cycle for himself.  By the time he called me, he could hardly stand up.  So, off to the ER we went and spent 6 lovely hours on a beautiful Anchorage afternoon with a wonderful nurse and doctor.  They pumped him full of fluids, gave him high potency laxatives and sent him on his way with the stern reprimand of "talk to your doctor about your current pain management program!"  Ok, I admit, I did snicker during that lecture but no one heard me, thankfully.  Nothing like a grown man lecturing another grown man.

Needless to say, when Sam saw his regular oncologist last week, they discussed the pain meds and adjusted them accordingly, taking into consideration the thoughtful and very helpful hint our personal friend, Dr. Kirkham, gave regarding pain meds. Sam is slowly becoming adjusted to the new meds, today realizing that they also help him breath better as he finds himself often taking short breaths trying to catch his breath.  Just another viscious cycle.

So, all that aside, we are now up to this week and the test results.  The CT scan and MRI show that the cancer is now eating away at his left femur.  In other words, his upper left thigh, which explains the increase of pain among other things.  Several times over the past few weeks, Sam told me it hurt to stand and to walk.  He is so brave because he refuses to let it take over his life.  The doctor called him because he is concerned Sam will break his leg, as am I!  The only thing that can be done for him at this point is radiation, palliative care radiation, not curable radiation, in hopes to slow the cancer growth and keep it from spreading further, or rather, eating away anymore of his femur.  More than likely Sam will go back to Xgeva treatments as well, a very mild chemo, for the bone metastasis.  All of this in hopes to lengthen his life span and help him maintain some semblance of a good quality of life.

Now that I wrote all this down, I feel much better, so thank you for listening.  People ask all the time if I am scared.  No, I am not scared, but I am worried.  All the time.  24/7.  But I cannot let it control me, so I push it out of my mind and focus best as I can on just living in the moment because, in the grand scheme of things, that is all one truly has.

In the past few weeks, a man who is like a second dad to me (I spent many hours at their house) was diagnosed with lung cancer.  His doctors were proactive and sent him in for surgery after discovering a small tumor in his lung.  Hopefully that is all there was and he will be considered a survivor for many years to come.  Another person who was a huge part of my sister's life was also diagnosed with lung cancer at the same time.  His diagnosis is not good as he has small cell lung cancer and still smokes.  Stop smoking people!  Please!

May 18 and 19 I am participating in the Alaska Clean Air Bike Challenge again.  I hope you will help me in my fight against lung disease.  http://action.lung.org/daraglass  Either help me meet my fundraising goal, or better yet, come ride with me.  Either way, we will make a difference.

q'ua

"It has been a tough race. If you actually think this is fun, you have a problem." - 2004 Iditarod winner Mitch Seavey of Seward, Alaska

Iditarod weekend - one of the traditions Sam and I look forward to every year.  Sam surprised me this year by wanting to go to the start in Willow.  The past couple weeks Sam experienced intense pain in his lymph nodes in his neck and in his left hip/pelvis.  So we kept a slow pace today, missing some of our favorites mushers, but we at least got there and stayed for an hour or so.  The Iditarod committee spends a great amount of time each year reminding people to NOT bring their pets to neither the ceremonial start nor the actual start, including placing signs in the parking lot stating, "No pets allowed," and most people respect the request.  However...as we walked back out to the parking lot, a guy came towards us with an adult Irish setter/retriever mix and I could not stop myself.  I stopped him, politely explained pets are not allowed at the race...and do you know what he said to me?  Well, where can I take him?  HELLO???  Anywhere but here?  The Iditarod is a professional race with a ton of money involved and you want to bring your pet?  ARGH.  Anyway, he followed us back out to the parking lot with the dog.  Does it take a rocket scientist to realize bringing your pets to the Iditarod might not be a good thing or is it just me?  Ok, I will stop my rant for now as I am sure you get how I feel about this.

For those of you who would like to track the teams, www.iditarod.com is the place to go.  Sam and I are "Iditarod Insiders," as like I said before, we are completely hooked on the race.  We tell each other all the time it is a good thing we did not move to Alaska earlier in our lives because we would probably be out there ourselves.

Dara & Sam on the trip to Sitka, Alaska.

Back to Sam's current issues, we talked yesterday and he is going to contact his primary physician at the VA about the pains, especially the pain in the hip/pelvis area.  The reason for this is that the primary will hopefully send Sam to an orthopedic surgeon to look at the hip/pelvis and determine if it is worth the while to replace or at least do something to mitigate the situation.  If not, Sam will more than likely end up with some kind of patch which will work as a localized painkiller, such as Fentenyl.  Not sure how I feel about that, but if it is going to alleviate the pain he is in, then ok, let's go for it.

He is working hard to build back up his energy level and his strength.  Slowly but surely he is succeeding.  His moods are good, he is looking forward to the summer, and is making plans to do things, albeit not at the same levels as before, but fishing is only a couple months away!  Today he even discussed indepth with me an easier way to take the cats with us which completely surprised me.

Overall, Sam is doing good, although we both know the cancer is slowly progressing.  Yesterday during our discussion we both agreed absolutely no more chemo, although he might consider Zometa again for the bone mets.  What the Alimta/carboplatin did to both of us last summer is something neither of us ever want to experience again, especially since it is not a cure, just a growth management treatment, which may or may not be successful.  Just not worth it to either of us.

As for me, life is good.  Work is terrific (still!)  Fishing is right around the corner, even better.

q'ua