Better living through chemistry
Unlike many bloggers, I don't usually belabor a ton of personal business in this space. For one thing, I'm a rather internal person, even around people I know well, much less relative strangers like the lot of you. (Not that I don't love you, each and every one. Just saying, is all.) For another, who really cares?
But indulge me today.
Longtime SSTOL readers know that my wife KJ is a breast cancer survivor. She was first diagnosed in 2000, and went through the usual battery of treatments. Nearly two years ago, she was diagnosed with significant skeletal metastasis. Since then, she has undergone a course of radiation therapy, and an ongoing regimen of antihormonal treatments designed to combat her cancer, while reducing the level of estrogens that enable said cancer to thrive.
Today, KJ begins chemotherapy.
From a realistic perspective, we knew that the time would eventually arrive when her treatment would have to ratchet up to the next level. That foreknowledge doesn't make this suck any less.
Medical science in general, and the treatment of breast cancer specifically, had advanced considerably in the past eight years. Previously, KJ's chemotherapy consisted of being hooked up for three hours to an IV pump at the cancer center every third Friday. This time around, she'll just take a handful of bright pink pills every morning and evening.
The other positive is that, unlike eight years ago, KJ's oncologist has a whole raft of other medications to try if this first salvo doesn't produce the desired results. Back in the day, only a couple of chemical cocktails (both of which KJ endured) were in the medicine cabinet. Now, we have a lot more arrows in the quiver — kind of like the Silver Age Hawkeye.
We'll take prayers if you've got 'em. Warm thoughts are welcome too, if you're not the praying kind.
And, if you have a few extra greenbacks in your pocket after Christmas shopping and gasoline, you could do worse than making a donation to the breast cancer research and education nonprofit of your choice. We believe the folks at Susan G. Komen for the Cure do fine work, if you need a suggestion.
Back to frivolity tomorrow.
But indulge me today.
Longtime SSTOL readers know that my wife KJ is a breast cancer survivor. She was first diagnosed in 2000, and went through the usual battery of treatments. Nearly two years ago, she was diagnosed with significant skeletal metastasis. Since then, she has undergone a course of radiation therapy, and an ongoing regimen of antihormonal treatments designed to combat her cancer, while reducing the level of estrogens that enable said cancer to thrive.
Today, KJ begins chemotherapy.
From a realistic perspective, we knew that the time would eventually arrive when her treatment would have to ratchet up to the next level. That foreknowledge doesn't make this suck any less.
Medical science in general, and the treatment of breast cancer specifically, had advanced considerably in the past eight years. Previously, KJ's chemotherapy consisted of being hooked up for three hours to an IV pump at the cancer center every third Friday. This time around, she'll just take a handful of bright pink pills every morning and evening.
The other positive is that, unlike eight years ago, KJ's oncologist has a whole raft of other medications to try if this first salvo doesn't produce the desired results. Back in the day, only a couple of chemical cocktails (both of which KJ endured) were in the medicine cabinet. Now, we have a lot more arrows in the quiver — kind of like the Silver Age Hawkeye.
We'll take prayers if you've got 'em. Warm thoughts are welcome too, if you're not the praying kind.
And, if you have a few extra greenbacks in your pocket after Christmas shopping and gasoline, you could do worse than making a donation to the breast cancer research and education nonprofit of your choice. We believe the folks at Susan G. Komen for the Cure do fine work, if you need a suggestion.
Back to frivolity tomorrow.
Labels: Breast Cancer Awareness
SwanShadow was randomly pounding the keyboard at 1:10 PM
10 insisted on sticking two cents in:
Well, We DL & DW knew that this day was comming. Our prayers are with you all and pray that there will be a positive outcome. I keep telling DL that you are the most interesting person that I have never met. Someday...
Good luck to your missus.
Dan: Thanks to you and Donna for the love and prayers.
And hey -- we'll meet someday. Count on that!
LTFT: Thank you for the well-wishes.
I'm praying. And thinking. And sending hugs.
Shelli: We'll accept all of the above. Thank you.
Praying for you both. It is good to live in the 21st century (drug wise), but it's not less scary I'm sure.
Scott: Thanks for the prayers. It is scary, but that's why we have faith, y'know?
As you elequently said.. Sucks no less... I'm a survior myself and live with the day to day tiny voice in the back of my mind that says it may come back.
But I admire your taking this one head on in such an empowering way. The Blog has had in an influence on my life..not just because I've found myself in a few comic shops of late.. it that, like many of my "cyberfriends", I've come to care about your family through your writing and think of all you as extended, extended family.
My thoughts are prayers.. this week make a mishabarach for you guys.
Sank: Thank you very much for those wonderful thoughts, my friend.
A joyous and blessed Hanukkah to you and your family!
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