This weekend, I had a zit on my chin that was so deep and intense and painful that I pulled a Tobias Funke in the shower. The only way I was able to get Ian to fall asleep for a nap Sunday was to put him in the van and drive around for 20 minutes, refusing to speak to him. Because he napped so late, he was still wide awake when we got home from our company Christmas party at 10:30pm. I finally got him to give in and fall asleep at 12:21am after we had all said some things we later regretted. I also got my lab results back from Friday and my HbA1C is a miserable 7.5. Even typing that makes my stomach hurt. But I haven't had much time to dwell on that number because the last few days I've been wrestling with blood sugars like 342, 288, 63, 362, 55, and one 99. It's been the "30 or 300?" game all weekend and I feel like I'm hungover. Oh, and I gained about five pounds in the last week.
We finally heard back from Dr. Hausner after I sent him a note saying I was going to call him if I didn't get an email back. For all his adorable Czech accent in person, he has a slightly less adorable sense of written English grammar so it can make reading a note from him confusing at best. We either are going to start antibody treatment soon or he just offered to refinance our home for us.
The K-Ras evaluation that we've been waiting on has still not happened. The lab refused to do the test because there were so few cells in the mucin and they can't find a commercial lab that will do the laser capture microscopy. We're not exactly sure what is happening next. We may "bite the bullet" as Hausner said and start antibody treatment without the test result but we don't know if that's bad. Then again, we don't know if it's more bad than chemotherapy is bad which is our only other option. That or we could roll initiative and see if someone has a daily power they can use. I'm not sure, his email was very confusing.
The vague email from Hausner plus finding out he still had about seven more days of Lovenox to take (that I totally would have thrown away but he's not me) have knocked the proverbial wind out of Rich's sails. He was feeling pretty good and could see definitive progress, but last night and today he's just been incredibly discouraged. We're not in the thick of things anymore. He's going to work and driving a car. But he's not comfortable being alone with Ian and he's still physically weak in a lot of ways. We're a lot better than we were four weeks ago, but we're not back to normal by any means.
This middle part is tough. We could use some cheering up. Fart jokes, cute animals, anything like that. I'll start ...