Progress. Finally.

Looks like I will hang my hat at the Kabuki hotel in San Francisco's Japantown for radiation the week of August  29-Sept 2, and Sept 5-8, with my fifth and last radiation Sept 12.  I'm relieved to have it all scheduled, that is if the robot does not go on strike or the earth shake.
Meanwhile, in sunny Santa Rosa I have not found any more rats nibbling my asian pears or sending me indoors shrieking.
All over Oakmont the crepe myrtles are showing their stuff. They come in as many colors as in my water color palette, but I love the intense pinks the best. Some are thirty or forty feet high. but I keep my three (sample shown) at about eight feet, so as not to obstruct the mountain view for my neighbors.
Driving to Boyes Hot Springs yesterday for fish tacos, which is twenty minutes East on Highway 12,
 I noted all the grapes have already been picked. Its a very early crush,they tell me.
Excuse me now, while I catch Face the Nation. I have to see what new tricks Trump is up to.

I Am Unique!

I'm really tired of writing about my lung cancer, but its about all that consumes my life right now, other than the proliferation of rats that have invaded everyone's garden in Oakmont. Since the fruit of my large Asian Pear tree started dropping, two six inch long critters have set up shop in my yard. They think they are household pets, and so far have ignored the traps set by my gardener. They are so tame I could name them, and they'd probably eat out of my hand, but they give me the creeps big time. They look and act nothing like the wood rats I had in the Oakland hills, which primarily lived on wood, including my rafters. These guys are very light grey, and have white tummies. They look like they escaped from some child's pet cage.
So, there is much news on my lung cancer. Friday I saw my oncologist here, Dr. Brett. He informed me the mutation studies were back and showed I had a very rare mutation., called Met. Now all cancer is a mutation, but this is a mutation on a mutation. No one on his staff has ever heard of it. In such cases the cancer is treated not with radiation or chemo, but with a pill which changes the gene.
So he thinks in the meantime we should go ahead with the Cyberknife at Sutter, SF, and then deal with the mutation later.
On the phone I ran this decision by a therapist, Angie, who leads the women's cancer support group here. She is adamantly opposed to my pursuing the radiation, as is my neighbor, Linda, who works for a company that manufactures a   robot in competition to the cyberknife.
Yesterday Catherine and I spent four hours on the internet researching MET. Seems that there are a few places in the world, including Northern Italy, where they are seeking volunteers for clinical trials.
So don't be surprised if my next blog comes from a foreign land.
Meanwhile, Brett ordered a lung xray because I was in so much pain. It seems that the simulation for the robot two weeks ago which failed because I was screaming with pain, caused two more ribs to fracture. Thats all I needed. Previously 10, 11, and 12 were fractured in my fall last Sept. They are almost healed, but now 8 and 9, just under my diaphragm, are newly fractured. Brett gave me stronger pain pills, which help.
In a way, I'm glad I am unique. But decisions would be easier if I were a plain old roof rat. Wish me the wisdom to make the right decision.

More Delays

Nothing is ever for sure. Twenty minutes before we were to leave for San Francisco Tuesday the hospital called and and informed me their scanning machine was down.... Reschedule for Friday.
We made the best of it and went to  lunch at Sea Thai Bistro, here in Santa Rosa. Its been a hot, smoky week, with the fires down south. Still, keeping my chin up. Cross your fingers nothing else will happen.

The Waiting Game Almost Over

Three days from now (and waiting is hard) I trek to SF for the robot simulation for zapping my lung cancer. At that time many  experts will measure me, tattoo me, and make a body cast for me to lie in during the five day procedure. Its all very exciting and sometimes the anxiety of the unknown kicks in. Right now, however, my lung infection seems healed, and I am antzy to get on with it.

Hurry Up and Wait

Last Wednesday an Oakmont friend, Karen, drove me to meet with the robot doc in San Francisco where Catherine and Michelle (Lee's cousin) sat with me for a two and a half hour conference with a nice man I'll call Dr. A. Seems Dr. A has a slightly different opinion of the radiation treatment plan than my oncologist up here, whose plan (though not personality)I prefer.
They are going to confer by phone next Monday or Tuesday. And then confer again with me. Then yesterday I met with my pulminologist and got yet other suggestions. And I may seek a fourth opinion. "Anyhow" as my Canadian relatives would say,  it looks like early August is the first anything can happen. Thanks to everyone who is being so supportive.
Birthday celebrations continue. This is getting old, as am I.  

On the left, Shirley and Dolores, my freshman sorority roommates from 68 years ago, dining at Michelle Maries, a french coffee house here.
Additional bonus, my great niece, Darcie, and her husband Dave, whom I had never met, flew to California from their home in rural Wyoming to interview for a job up by Mt Lassen. By rising at four am they were able to visit with me for an hour, just before I left for SF. The job turned out to be a reject, but Darcie said they whole trip was worth it just to see me. My head is swelling.

Birthday Girls

As usual on Wednesday nights here fifteen or sixteen of us go out for dinner, at which time those who have had a birthday that week are celebrated. So last Wednesday after the cards and songs for two of us, I told the following story:
Eighty-six years ago in Seattle's Swedish hospital, a hospital that still exists, a strikingly beautiful  Canadian woman of twenty one, an illegal immigrant,  gave birth to a 7.6 oz baby girl. When Dr. Torland held me up for my mother to see, she screamed. Her baby was not perfect, for the second and third toes on both feet were webbed. She begged Dr Torland to take a scalpel and cut them through, and even though he was one of many men who was smitten with my mother's beauty and charisma, he refused.
When I was little and other kids pointed at my toes and teased me, I tried to hide my feet.
I guess I was seven or eight,
by then altogether used to my mother's romantic dalliances, that I noticed my beloved father had identical webbed toes. I realized then I was his kid, and ever since I have celebrated my uniqueness.

Seems Cancer Makes One Self Absorbed

Much as I'd like my focus to be on the world, you, nature, ect. it seems when one has  cancer one can only think of themselves.I very much dislike that, but that is how it is right now.
I am in a fair amount of pain, which my new doc thinks is from the cancer, not from the broken ribs yet healing.
As of Wednesday morning I have an oncologist Dr. Brett and he rules the roost. He wants me to go to Sutter hospital in SF for one to  four days for treatment with the cyber knife, to radiate away the tumor in my left lung. Even though we don't yet know much about the nature of the kind of cancer, he wants this done immediately. It could be anything from stage one to four, or even a mutation, but he insists on immediacy. So I am waiting for insurance approval. You can read about the cyber knife on Goodgle.
Then I will stay in a hotel in SF that has shuttle service to the hospital. All of my friends and family in SF have houses with stairs, which I'm not up to at this juncture. So I may leave as early as tomorrow or it could be a week from tomorrow. The holiday complicates things. How lucky I am to have the means and friends and family to accomodate this.
Cousin Michelle who lives in SF has familiarity with the cyber knife and will accompany me the first day. Wow. A lot to digest.
Its better not to phone as there are so many hospital calls, but I can still get and send emails with ease.
Love you all.