Macular Degeneration

Sorry the above photo is so grainy, but I didn't want to disturb the sleeping birdies so I zoomed in. If you look closely the female has her eye open and she's watching me, probably deciding if I was a threat. I wish I could swivel my head and tuck my face into my feathery back. It seems very comforting, hiding from the world. I think I would like being a duck at Green Lake. As far as I've been able to tell, it seems like a pretty awesome life. 

That picture was taken on my walk to the retirement home this morning. Tuesdays are my favorite! Today, along with my usual Margaret, I got the chance to paint Lucy's nails. She's 89, and such a sweet and interesting woman. She moved to Seattle in 1946, migrating from her small Minnesota hometown of 2,300 people. She reminded me of two of my favorite people Rich & Andre who moved from Minnesota. Unlike Lucy, they still have their awesome accents, well, at least Rich does :) Lucy moved to Seattle to do bookkeeping for Boeing during the war. I love Lucy and Margaret. I also had the chance to go to Ruth's room and touch up a couple of her nails. Ruth didn't have the energy to walk to our usual meeting place so I knelt down while she relaxed in her rocking lazy chair. She was looking classic in white slacks and an American flag sweater. These women always look so handsome.  

The highlight of my day, though, was when Lucy asked if I was attending high school. I started laughing and told the ladies that I'm 31. They couldn't believe it! They kept going on and on about how young I look, until Lucy finally fessed up and admitted she has macular degeneration. Then we all busted out with uncontrollable laughter. Oh lord, these women are so funny! Seriously. They're such a treat!

Big D Turns 34

Dan tuned 34 on Saturday, and above are the remnants from the celebration. It's fun having sweets around the house, they're so pretty! Baked goods are so feminine. They make me infinitely happy. I thought I'd be all over them like a little bunny on carrots, and that I'd have to throw them away, but oddly, after sharing two cupcakes on Saturday, I had my fill. Now, I'm sending Dan to work each day with goodies for the other boys. I used to bake all the time, but stopped when I got the big C. Ever since I learned that sugar literally kills, I've cut back in a big way. It's awesome having the cupcakes and brownies around the house because it makes me feel warm, that our home is cozy and inviting. There's something about baking that just feels right, even when I've read that it's so wrong.

Things are good over here. Like I've mentioned before, we've been more relaxed about my diet which has been a lot less stressful. I'm very curious to find out at the next MRI if the high doses of artemether & sulforaphane cancel out my relaxed diet and still shrink old Hermie. It's all such an ebb and flow, there's never definitive answers until each MRI. We're walking in uncharted territory for the most part. I'm of the mindset that if Hermie grows, it will be because of my lax restrictions of sugar (sweets, wine, carbs, or things of that nature).

We were incredibly hard core from October until January. It was precise, and calculated. I can only function like that for a short while. I have to be bad, and live like a normal human from time to time. Anyway, we'll find out if I've been enjoying myself too much in about six weeks. It used to unnerve me, drive me nuts, always worrying about my choices, but luckily, with this type of brain cancer I have a lot of leeway compared to the further stages. According to the World Health Organization, "Individuals with grade 4 astrocytoma have a median survival time of 17 weeks without treatment." Jeez. Seventeen weeks is just past four months. Death? Yikes. If I was in that situation I wouldn't even play around with cheating on my diet, but since I'm not, I'm living my life allowing some happy foods, not just eating for health, but also happiness. It has taken me a bit to relax, and I might find on April 19th that it was a mistake, but hey, if I don't try it I'll never know.

I feel confident that I can cure my brain cancer, even though it isn't often accomplished. I probably sound crazy to some, maybe even to most, but just because others have heart breakingly failed, at no fault of their own I might add, doesn't mean that I will. And when I do beat this, I will find a way to dedicate my life to help others survive.