The rest of the story

Hi Everyone:

Paul Harvey here. Just kidding.

Well, as I said, Jim is still cancer free. So, I asked the question. "Doc, as we get further and further away from the Stem Cell Transplant, are the chances greater or lesser for the cancer to return. Without missing a beat, all 3 of them said, "Oh, the odds get better and better the further you get away with no recurrence. The head of the team said, "I would find it unlikely at this point that the cancer would even return. I think we almost fell over on the inside. Now, they are usually super positive, but we'll take that.

Funny thing is we've been trusting the Lord day by day, but it was reassuring to hear that from the Doc. I guess because God didn't shout the same thing down from heaven. Odd that human reassurance can warm the heart, while often my heart would tremble while "trusting" in God. Hmm... More to think of. But not tonight. Tired.

Speaking with a wife of another surviver, her words are "Now, the hard part comes." Living with pain, bad blood, no friends, selling your house, moving to condo, no sun, blah blah blah. Yeah, it's hard. But it would have been harder living without my Jim. I'll take him over everything.

We are not even close to figuring out how to live this new life, so please keep praying for us.

Oh me. What happened?

Well, we went to breakfast, and I told Jim I would take my vitamins during breakfast, so he put them in my purse. Well, he put his meds in my purse, too. Now I know my container is pink and his blue, but I wasn't thinking and I grabbed his and swallowed the first handful, and went for the second handful, when I spit them out cause I didn't recognize that blue pill. That's when I discovered I took the methadone. I went to the bathroom and tried to throw it up. Couldn't do it. (wish I had. I ate a big breakfast. ;) Anyway. I took a butter knife in and again, tried, to no avail. We called the NIH, they called the Poison Center, but we missed their call. They didn't think I needed to go to the hopt., but they wanted us to get a hotel and stay close cause I was going to get sick. Well, boy was that an understatement. I was soooooooooooooo sick. Poor Jim had to drive, and he was worn out. In Breezewood, Jim had to walk me to the WC. The world was spinning. I threw up buckets, and it was just nasty. It actually took 48 hours for me to feel normal again. Had I took 2 pills, which is what Jim used to be on, I would have had to have had my stomach pumped. I could have died. So. that's all there was too that. What a way to celebrate.

Jim's dentist appt was a bit scary. The chemo has weakened his teeth, and the GVHD of the mouth (he has GVHD of the mouth in case I didn't mention it) causes less saliva. With less saliva, the bacteria isn't being washed away and in 2 months, he has 2 teeth that have really bad decay. The dentist feels he can save them, but if the weakened state from chemo and the GVHD continue, well, ....you know.

(Maddy, heads up there, for Sam in the teeth department)

Well, I had really hoped to get Christmas cards out this year with a very long thank you to many people, but that isn't going to happen again. As I said. We're just trying to figure out how to live this life. It's very weird/odd. And I'm scared and tired and often confused. But please don't think I don't love you and wish you a Merry Christmas.

Love us

Me. Well,