Also, loving David and JZ's updates on the trial, it's so interesting to see from the other side! (Sadly the stuff like "why can't you get your act together to dose me before 3PM" seems to be a common issue, from what I can tell, but for a variety of reasons)

I'm currently starting to sweat our infusion timing though I think we're staying ahead of the chemo pump's 45 hour countdown for our flight out on Sunday.

She's all hooked up and getting juicy bags of saline and pre-mix right now.

We're in room 48, Long Infusion, 7th Floor, Cedars Sinai Oschin cancer center today. A full private room again, which is nice for being able to close the door and having a private potty.

I'm starting to branch out and socialize on our trips. Saw Phil the Gambler last week. Going to see my friend Rio on Saturday. (Not Buffista!Rio (Anaheed), but her Bennington friend she stole the name from.)

On our next trip down we get our CT Scan which is exciting/terrifying. So far we've been 0-for-2 on CT Scan news, the first two being flat out disastrous.

Scan 1: JZ has cancer. It has metastasized. It's inoperable.

Scan 2: You've had the worst possible outcome to chemotherapy and your tumors are continuing to proliferate.

The bloodwork is encouraging and bloodwork is fine and dandy, but the Scan is what matters.

So for Scan 3 we're looking for a hearty, "These tumors are definitely shrinking."

The doctor and study coordinator have been very inquisitive about JZ's continuing GI tract adventures (as this seems to be the only side effect of treatment). I had to note that I haven't spent this much time evaluating how much puke and how long it went on since post event gossip after high school keggers. (Short answer: very little puke, usually mitigated by Compazine.)

CT Scan which is exciting/terrifying

"Scanxiety." I still get it, too.

evaluating

Keep a log or diary. Soon the cycles and events will start to blend together in your memory, you will be glad to have documentation you can turn to for review.

Nurse said we'd be done in two hours which keeps us well under on our clock countdown, so we're good.

I'm going for a little walk while JZ rests.

Timelies all!

This morning started off badly. My car got rear-ended on the on ramp to 270.(The on-ramps have lights on them to meter the traffic) I was waiting for the car ahead of me to move when I got hit. Luckily there was a cop just behind us, and insurance information was exchanged.

I'm alright, my car's rear bumper needs some work. I filed a claim with my insurance and have an appointment first thing Monday morning at the body shop. I just need to get in touch with Enterprise for a car rental.(Insurance set things up, but they called the home number, and by the time I could call them back, they were closed. Luckily they're open tomorrow morning.)

Glad your son seems to be okay, Laura!

Happy belated Birthday, Toddson!

I wonder how the guy who drove up to the cafe as I was leaving in his giant SUV with front wheels jacked up so high he might not be able to see the road and base thumping out of his speakers as infrasound would react to the knowledge that he immediately inspired the thought "just how small can a penis get, anyway?"

I'm sorry, Sheryl. Good you are okay, but dealing with insurance and body shops is a pain.

"just how small can a penis get, anyway?"

There are so many times when DH and I say "so sorry about your penis, dude" when various vehicles offend the serenity of A1A.

Eeep. My hockey game is tied and I am hoping for my team to lose. What will be will be.

Wait, why do you want them to lose?

Bum side of private suite, no windows. However, that let me sleep and sleep and sleep the infusion away, which let me stay awake most of the night, which makes me think there's more than one bum side to private suite.

All the private suites have mezuzahs in the doorways, which his definitely not a bum side.

dcp, I'm so sorry, for him, for you, for his wife and all the what-ifs.

Happy belated, toddson! Whenever I hear/read your name I think of the first time I saw you in person, all dressed up for the F2F prom in DC, and thinking, "She's the most regal, majestic person I've ever seen."

Also not bum, I spat out a 10K word story. Waiting for the right time to post (apparently there's Greenwich Mean Time and new story alerts and what-all to consider), but I wrote again! I don't care if it's fic, it's writing and it doesn't suck and I'm just so happy.

YAY writing! I'm so happy for you, JZ.

I feel like about the time my mother died so did most of my drive to write. I still read a lot of fic, but my creative output is limited to the yearly 3-sentence ficathon these days...

I feel like about the time my mother died so did most of my drive to write.

I'm so sorry. It seems like the worst loss to get past in so many ways. Writing could still happen again, though. I know I had no expectations of ever writing again after a couple of decades without, and then *bam* I got hit up sideways by a new show that broke open all kinds of locked-up things in me.