The Itty Bitty Shitty Titty Blog

 Ding Dong the Chemo's Done! (to be read in the high-pitched voice of a Munchkin, preferably a member of the Lullaby League or the Lollipop Guild) Only a week later than expected, I went in for my final Chemo infusion.  Mom went with me and, while it took the tech a few tries to find a cooperative vein for the IV, the visit went off without much of a hiccough.  As we were leaving the nurses clapped while I rang the brass bell anchored to the wall.   To be honest, the bell had a slightly melancholy sound. Let's talk about bells for a moment.  I've never really thought about them before but bells are a symbol of change or transformation, aren't they? We ring bells in celebration on Christmas Day, for weddings, and we "ring in" the New Year.  Bells toll the passage of time from tiny wristwatches to intimidating clock towers. Town criers used to herald news with a bell as they carried important messages through the streets. Bells were put onto horse bridle...

Matt says that I got cocky with my last post. That was obviously not my intention. Maybe God just took a look at my last post and needed a good laugh.  Whatever happened, whatever the reason, I did NOT get to ring the "I'm done with Chemo" bell on Tuesday.   After my last completed Chemo treatment on February 25th I was fighting a pretty bad cough.  My oldest son, George, was also coughing and had been for a few days.  So, on Wednesday, I took us both to the Urgent Care facility nearest our house to be tested for Flu and Strep.  We waited for over an hour in an empty waiting room before being tested and seen by a doctor for a total of 4 minutes to be told we did NOT have strep or flu.  George was prescribed Amoxicillin and I got a Z-Pack.   A few days into my prescription and I wasn't getting any better.  In fact, on Friday, I noticed that I couldn't walk across a parking lot or up a flight of stairs in our townhome without getting winde...

 I know it's been awhile and I am sorry.  I have been writing in my personal journal which is usually how I write my drafts before posting... but they were depressing and, worse than that, repetitive.  There were no fun anecdotes or cute stories.  I am truly saving you from hours of polite reading.   These last weeks have been a little different, my lovely mother has been going to my infusions with me.  She drives up from Woodstock in the morning and meets me at my boys' school after I drop them off and I jump into her car with my bags and pillow and slippers and then she drives me the 45 mins to an hours (depending on rush hour traffic in Northern Virginia) to Fairfax hospital. She spends the time prattling on about whatever she did that week and I usually get a blow by blow recount of my nephew Luke's last basketball game -- GO FALCONS!  She then, reluctantly, allows the Valet attendants to park her truck.  Once inside the hospital I lead t...