Up In The Air

We're still up in the air about dates for the moment. We went up last Wednesday as planned for the simulation, and at the same time we hoped to get more details about schdule. Nothing, alas, seems to be so difficult as to get details at the moment - lots of things need to coalesce for all this to work out. I only hope that we find out more this Wednesday when we go in for the dry run.

I did break down and call the on-call oncologist at Cleveland Clinic yesterday afternoon; I'd been dealing with increasing amounts of pain, and the pain levels finally got beyond what I could tolerate. Turns out that I was, in fact, undermedicating myself - I wasn't taking enough of my pain killer, so I'm on a strict regimen to schedule the doses every 4 hours, 6 times a day. I think I can do it, as I've felt much better since starting this.

Today I went off to the county fair to pick up my entries. I received 3 first place rankings (the stole, the hat, and the baby sweater), plus 2 second place rankings (the socks and the vest). On the whole I was pleased, and the vest lost to friend M's Fair Isle vest ("Grant Street", Alice Starmore). It's a beautiful, beautiful pattern, breathtakingly well-executed, and she won Best of Class and Best of Show. Can't complain too much to finishing behind her!

Saint H and our friend R spent the day baling hay; I believe he said we have 120 400-lb. bales in the field, and we may get a few more scraped up from the remains. R has dairy cattle as does one of his friends, and they may be buying all this hay from us (woo-hoo!!) If we get a decent second cutting this year, we can put it up in square bales and keep it for our own animals. I wasn't sure we were going to accomplish a cutting at all; like so many others here, we've been afflicted by the weather; it's been too wet to get into the fields. Right now, even though it's above 90, it's not so terribly humid and it's not supposed to rain for at least a week. Great for hay, if nothing else.

Last Bit for the Fair

Years ago I swore I would never knit lace. Lace was "always" something oversize, like a bedspread, and it was always done in crochet thread on tiny steel needles, etc. Imagine my surprise when I saw a knitted linen facecloth, small and simple and lovely. I finally decided that there was nothing really keeping me from doing lace except misunderstandings on my part. I tried a couple of facecloths and scarves, and then itched to move on to something bigger. I was hooked, and have been ever since!

I chose this pattern, the "Field of Flowers" shawl by Evelyn Clark, and made it in Jaggerspun Zephyr. I worked on it very slowly (seems to be the story of my life) and came out with something I felt good about. Since then I've gotten slightly obsessive about buying laceweight yarn, but I work steadily toward finishing several small projects every year and at least one big one.

I had one other project that I wanted to put in; it's a sweater jacket worked in 2 strands of yarn, densely knitted in Manos del Uruguay and Classic Elite Applause, and colorful in shades of turquoise, blues and greens. All I have left to do is to sew the seams and block it. But last night I tried to work on finishing a seam, and discovered it's just too heavy for me to hold steady while I take the stitches, at least while my shoulder hurts. It will have to wait for a while, I'm afraid, until I find out what the radiation oncologist is willing to do.

We go this afternoon to Cleveland for tomorrow's appointment. I'll be glad to have the waiting over with.

Get Your Hat and Goat

I love to make hats. I've made hats for myself and actually kept them - most of my projects end up in other people's hands as gifts. This hat came from the fabulous book Sweaters, detailing modern takes on traditional Scandinavian colorwork. It's made in Dale of Norway Heilo; these colors represent rural Sweden to me.

My first attempt at 2-color knitting was a Dale of Norway hat from the Lillehammer collection, 1994; I did start it, at least, during the Olympics, though I didn't manage to finish it before the closing ceremonies. Saint H is the only person I know with a face long enough to wear the hat; and he's still stopped by strangers on the street who "just lo-o-ve" that hat. I have a hard time getting it off of him long enough to wash it in the wintertime.

Before that, I was content to stick to pretty pedestrian knitting, not very dramatic or complicated. I took a workshop with Alice Starmore in 1993 and progressed to gansey-style knitting, and this vest, "Oceans of Knits and Purls", (Knitter's, Fall 1997) was one of the most satisfying results of those forays. It has sterling "buffalo nickel" buttons and is a gift for my lovely nurse Vicki - purple is her favorite color as well as mine, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather give it to. It will have to wait for after the County Fair, though.

I'm dealing with the usual joint pain, and the added fillip of shoulder pain is making life difficult. I'm more and more anxious for the meeting on Friday so I can find out what we'll be doing.

Knitting and the County Fair

Well, I'm taking the plunge and putting some of my knitting in at the county fair. I'll post photos of the projects over the next few days - don't want this to be too graphics-intense. Having spent years on dial-up connections, I always hated it when friends who lived in the "big city" sent me enormous files and videos, as I had no chance of downloading them before the connection got lost somehow. Maybe it's silly to cling to that, but I won't do it to anyone else, even though I have DSL now. Anyway, here are the first two projects:


This is the Whirligig Shrug, for my friend Steph's upcoming baby if a girl. Percival Bear, the Elegant Fella, is an excellent model even if he does nap rather indiscriminately. Steph has cut my hair for who knows how long, probably 13 years at least, and still looks as young as she did when we first started. I'll have another sweater for a boy baby ready before she produces in November!

These are the "Islamic Socks" from Nancy Bush's excellent Folk Socks - I had to buy the book because I loved this pattern so much. I've made it numerous times, and this was the first attempt, done in 5-ply gansey wool just as the book called for. Saint H had a pair and walked right through the heels, so I'm making him another pair, this time with reinforcing thread through the entire foot. He's very hard on socks.

We have appointments at Cleveland Clinic next week - Tuesday with an opthalmologist to have my vision checked, and Friday with a radiation oncologist who specializes in lungs. Dr. GV must have agreed to review my scans as the appointment is listed as "new patient consult"; I'm anxious to hear what he suggests. I'll just have to wait, though, like always - not always patiently, but I'm good at it.

Mr. Yuk Is My Friend

Well, it's been an interesting lapse. I developed a salivary gland infection at the end of April (my second in a month) but fortunately was able to get in for an appointment with one of the ENT guys quickly. I'm choking down 500 mg of a sulfa drug twice daily along with Compazine to alleviate the nausea.

At this point I have virtually no appetite; I haven't really been interested in food for about a week. I don't believe it's the Votrient; I'd much rather blame the sulfa drug in hopes that it will stop eventually! You may wonder, "Why sulfa?" Well, as time went on and I developed more and more serious infections from surgery and the like, I was being pumped full of antibiotics. Unfortunately I got hit with side effects pretty hard. I have a list of about 10 allergens now, but at the moment none are sulfa-based. So I guess that's my "drug class of choice" for the time being! And, much as I hate to admit it, it does seem to be working and I'd rather not be sporting an infection.

We've had killer weather too, alternating between hot and dry, and cold and windy and rainy. It's the type of system train that guarantees uncomfortable nights and difficulty breathing. I'm back to sitting up on the couch and snoozing, rather than trying to breathe all night lying on my back. I know it could be worse; we could be flooded. Saint H led a hike in Myers Woods last Saturday. It was damp and chilly but doable.

Saturday night we trekked to Columbus and huddled in a tent venue with 175 other people for the spotlight concert of the Columbus Folk Music Society's annual Central Ohio Folk Festival. My musical hero, James Keelaghan performed for all his chilly friends and warmed the evening greatly. Keelaghan is from Winnipeg, his voice is pure, his poetry unmatched; all in all his music has over the years given me great hope and solace.

We lost a good friend and member of the Renal Cell Networking Group; Gale was diagnosed in 1995 and was always quick to prefer surgery over drug therapy. She was a great-hearted lady; Saint H knew her from their shared times in the 1980s with the Ohio Wildlife Center, and she loved all animals, particularly dogs and horses. Gale and I shared the same birthday, too.

Our local friend who has battled brain tumors for 25 years is nearing her end; she's at home under hospice care. I'm nearly finished with a baby sweater for the granddaughter she'll never see. I always feel that I'm doing something worthwhile when I'm knitting for little ones.

One Thing Leads To Another

Last week we trekked to Cleveland Clinic for the usual scans and appointments. This time there's no unqualified "stable" report, I'm sorry to say; rather, there was a tiny bit of growth in 3 lesions. It's not enough to force me off Nexavar, thank goodness, but it's the first that we've seen for over 2 years.

I'm always let in for a battery of standard labwork. Once in a while either Dr. G or Dr. SC will decide to follow one set of results with more investigation. I don't think it's from alarm on their part, but rather a desire to know more completely what's going on with me.

This time, Dr. G zeroed in on MCV (mean cell volume) - my levels indicate that my red blood cells are smaller than the norm. This could be from internal bleeding (on a microscopic level) or from anemia. My money's on anemia, given my history, but I'm undergoing a stool card test just to be sure. If those results are positive I suppose I'll have to go the endoscopy and colonoscopy route.

If negative, I suppose I'll be looking around for tools to boost my iron count. That remedy will be determined by finding something that doesn't interfere with absorption of other medications. Sometimes I feel like we're doing an enormous jigsaw puzzle without having the picture on the box for reference ...

I passed along the sweater I'd made for Dr. G's baby's first birthday. It's only 4 months late; I wasn't finished with it by her birthday, and I forgot to take it to the January appointment. Fortunately I'm certain it's something she'll have to grow into anyway. I'm told that her favorite color is purple - mine too!

Little or Nothing

Not much has been written, as not much has happened recently. We travelled to Lake Erie for a few days. No fishing, but a tour of North Bass Island in the Lake Erie Islands and a Toledo Mud Hens game passed the time nicely. And last weekend I indulged in the repeating-but-not-annual trip to the Michigan Fiber Festival, reveling once again in the company of knitters.

We've gone back to the tropics, so to speak - today's weather hot and humid, putting me in mind of rain forests in "B" movies from the 50s. We have fewer trees but the overall effect is probably what the producers wanted to instill. We escaped the flooding rains that neighboring counties have endured this week; not sure how that worked out, but I'm grateful we received "only" 3.75" of rain as opposed to 9.35" on Tuesday. Our land is glacial tilth plain, with a 5' slope from one end of the property to the other. In the midst of this relatively flat land, any rise is noticeable, and we are definitely on higher ground than our neighbors. I'm still going to call about flood insurance.

I've been on the 3/8 dose of Nexavar for about a week, and note increased fatigue and some tendency to irritation on my feet. So far no full-fledged blistering, but there seems to be a level of tenderness that wasn't there at the lower dose. I'll be keeping watch on this.

Hotspots

Hmmm. I know, I've been missing-in-action again. My health remains good, though insomnia has returned with a vengeance.

My hand/foot adventures continue, and I'm ashamed to admit that I'm squarely to blame for the huge blister on my right heel. I wore the wrong socks one day, could feel the irritation starting, and didn't take steps right away to correct it. So now I think I may be faced with another life-long flashpoint, and it's my own fault. I guess I have "matching feet" now, with a distressingly bad spot on each. You may ask "what's the 'right sock'?" - my answer, anything that has a padded foot. ThorLo socks are pretty wonderful and come in a variety of padding styles, so I should be able to cover all situations. I've completed my week-long cessation of Nexavar, and most of the problems have cleared up - nice to know that the pattern and results are predictable. (And it was a great excuse to buy a new pair of clogs!)

I've been keeping busy with a local Elderhostel network program, taking classes and volunteering on the steering committee. It's fun, not too demanding, and stretches my mind a bit more than the usual routine of knitting/laundry/cooking/cleaning/pilltaking/doctors' visits. And beyond that, I'm teaching some of my former co-workers to knit socks, and have written a couple of "new" sock patterns myself in the last couple of weeks. I don't claim that they are startlingly original, but I think they'll be easy enough for novices to work and learn a few new tricks. When my hands bother me, I switch to a sweater in progress for friend and sister C2 - I only promised it 10 or 12 years ago, and it took that long to find a pattern we liked!

I am, reluctantly, preparing to return a book borrowed in Saint H's name from OSU Libraries. Bombers and Mash: the domestic front 1939-1945 by Raynes Minns is a fascinating summary of "women's war" in Great Britain during World War II. I'd no idea that rationing continued in Great Britain until at least 1950; and oh, the things that people could do without! No soap - no sugar - no paper - no fuel - no meat; the list goes on and on. The book is liberally illustrated with contemporary advertisements, with infuriatingly cheerful "make-do, brave little woman" messages, and there's a fascinating section of recipes. I don't plan to serve baked pickled pig's cheek anytime soon, but the recipe is there if I need it ...

Thoughts On The Solstice

On December 21, 2005 I nearly bled to death internally. I was getting ready to drive to Columbus for an appointment with Dr SC and suddenly started vomiting blood. I called Dr G's office, Dr SC's office, and my friend Mary who came by and organized the trip to the ER. Funny how snatches of scenes come back; I recall the ER staff unsuccessfully trying to insert an IV in my carotid artery ("Just turn your head, honey, keep your head turned, it's not going to work, BP's down to 74/37"). I remember trying to wave to Saint H on the way to the lifeflight 'copter. I remember being enveloped in a blessed hotpack when I got to the ICU. Everything else until I woke up the next day is pretty much a blur, or completely forgotten; and that's probably good.

Solstice: That shortest day, and longest night signalled the rebirth of the earth to ancient civilizations. It won't pass for me without thinking of my own second chance.

Yesterday I attached shanks to glass disks, to serve as buttons on a vest I designed for my niece. It involved superglue. Yes, I glued my fingers together. You'd think I would know better.

Thanksgiving Comes Early

Yesterday, Saint H and I were in Cleveland for tests and appointments. The C/T scans were quite good - no appreciable growth, stable disease state. So far I've had 4 successive scans over 8 months showing stable disease. Given that I'm on a half dose of Nexavar, that's very encouraging. If I were on higher doses, would I see shrinkage? Perhaps, though there's no guarantee of that, and I can't imagine living with the side effects. No tradeoff of misery for longevity, please.

Dr G adjusted some of my medications (one less blood pressure med, hooray) and added a new prescription for an iron supplement. We're trying to fight the anemia and fatigue with this. So, that's minus 4 daily pills for the blood pressure, plus 2 daily pills for the supplement; net -2 pills. (Gosh, no, it doesn't take much to amuse me!)

And life goes on; Dr G and his wife have a baby girl, their first child. I found out they were expecting at my September appointment, and took this sweater along. I love making baby things - small projects, lots of scope for trying new stitches and techniques.

My Lifeline

My needles neither flash nor click
They are wooden - light and strong in my hands -
And they whisper and glide as I work.
My fingers are neither supple nor fast
I work doggedly sometimes - how I hate to purl! -
But I make surprising progress unconsciously.
Knitting is my solace, my companion, my prayer.
Waiting is not endless, it's an opportunity
To be productive and enjoy the passage of time.

Sometimes I sit down to write and poetry falls out of my pen instead. Usually it's bad doggerel, sometimes it isn't. Anyway, good or bad, this is how I feel about my knitting. It's as much a part of my life as breathing is, and has been so for at least the past 15 years.

The weather is yo-yoing. I'd settle for six months of October, personally, but it's not up to me is it? My old breathing troubles are coming back for the nonce with each wave of fronts. Solution: sleep as much as I can, use saline spray, sit up and knit or cook. I probably don't sleep any less than normal, but I'm more conscious of being unable to sleep this time of year. At least I have things to do.

Home Again, Home Again

The trip is complete and I'm back on my couch with Duke snoring at my side. I'm fatigued (like that's different from usual) but it's a good fatigue - lack of sleep offset by lots of laughter and giggling. A pleasant time was had by all. I highly recommend Holland MI as a vacation spot - very walkable downtown, lots of interesting shops, good food, and live music on the streets in summer evenings. For wintertime visitors: the downtown sidewalks are heated. No kidding - 58 miles of underground piping pump warm water to keep the sidewalks clear. There are two bookstores downtown, Lake Macatawa and Lake Michigan to the west, and three yarn shops that we know of in town - what more can be asked? (And yes, Virginia, there are wooden shoe factories.)

I met Galina Khmeleva, the queen of Orenburg gossamer shawls, at the festival. I had started an Orenburg warm shawl last week, in part because the construction technique is so interesting and I needed the mental challenge, and in part because they are irresistibly beautiful - I had never dreamed I would find her in Allegan. She's charming and enthusiastic; her tenacity resurrected the art of Orenburg knitting from certain oblivion following the breakup of the Soviet Union. Could anyone ask for a better epitaph, than to have kept a folk tradition from dying out?

Once the initial apprehension was gone, my blood pressure settled down and was reasonable during the entire trip. I am retaining the increased dose of Hydralazine just to be sure that it stays reasonable. Might as well enjoy life, after all, or there's not much point to hanging around ...

We are experiencing technical difficulties ...

I have crappy veins. They're little, they roll, they go flat, and they shrink in terror when a needle approaches. So the best thing that came out of my flirtation with high-dose interleukin 2 in January 2005 was the implantation of a dual lumen mediport. Hooray, no more multiple jabs, no failed sticks, no tears. I love my mediport. My nurses love my mediport.

Monday night I noticed that my mediport site looked different and that I had a dull ache under the site. So, I called Dr. SC's office Tuesday, and was able to get in this morning at 7:30. We think that one of the port catheters has kinked or rolled; it's visibly changed position. I had x-rays today and will go in for radiation flow tests next week. In the meantime I can't lift anything. Oh, darn, that will make housekeeping difficult won't it? :) I guess I'll have to knit instead.

That's a good thing - I have 5 pairs of socks, a sweater, and a shawl in various stages of construction, and those are just the projects I have in the living room. We won't talk about the tubs of yarn upstairs. I have multiple pairs of socks in the works at all times so that I have small portable projects with me while waiting for doctors' appointments. Lots of my friends have gotten hats and socks out of my appointment schedule.

Let's go fishing, eh?

This weekend marks my first return in several years to my favorite sport, fishing (that is, the only sport I participate in). There's nothing like drowning worms in Lake Erie, in the company of good friends and fellow zealots. My dad was a great one for fishing (my parents went fishing in - one of the "M" states, Michigan or Minnesota - on their honeymoon -- no idea what my mom thought about that, but they stayed married regardless) but I didn't get the bug until 10 or 12 years ago. Our friends M & D's annual walleye charter is this weekend. I'm finally feeling good enough to go again, and I hope we all catch something besides mosquito bites and sunburn.

The best thing about feeling so good is that I can take advantage of life as it used to be prior to diagnosis. I now feel better than I have for 6 or 7 years. I generally have to pick and choose what I do since I get tired pretty easily, but there's a great satisfaction to doing something I like to do.

I am fortunate to have fairly sedentary interests - reading, knitting, spinning - fishing and hiking are the exceptions and I haven't been up to trying those until recently. I have been knitting since I was 11 (that would be 1963), inspired by my aunt's Christmas present of a knitted Chanel suit (complete with pillbox hat and purse) for my Barbie doll. I still have doll and suit. Somehow Barbie has lost her shoes and underwear over the years, but my, she is stylish on the surface. My first knitting effort was a striped wool sweater in shades of brown and rust, never finished, but I learned on it and have delighted in knitting since.

Anyway, I'll be picking out a small project to take along - probably socks for Saint H (my husband). I could make a thousand pair of socks for him and he'd be happy, even if he never wore them all ... give me a baggie, yarn and needles and I'm good to go ...! That's why I always have multiple socks in progress. Never a dull moment.