Thoughtfully Indulgent

Forty-eight hours from now Kim will have one remaining chemotherapy session to go. I can tell you that the anticipation for even that milestone is high right now. This therapy is a grind, I know I've said that a lot but it's the most apropos description I can think of. Finding even small victories throughout the process is what keeps everyone moving forward. Kim, well, she's incredible, right? She's really managed to find normalcy in all this and we've had a great off week since session number 6. She's upbeat, energetic, and bright; I cannot imagine how she does it. Still, every day she's up and at it and always with that crazy desire to do more than time allows.

Some things I've forgotten to mention and a few thoughts I've had over the past month:

Genetic Testing
Kim underwent genetic testing back in September to determine if she had inherited mutations of the genes that produce tumor suppressor proteins. Her report came back negative with no clinically significant variants detected in 24 genes. This puts her at lower risk, much like the general population, for other types of cancer. Further, it suggests that Andrew and Jason do not have as high a risk of inheriting a mutation. There's a lot going on with this and if you'd like to read further, here's a lot to look at.

85/15
Back at the start of treatment we were reading every recovery and remission book and were gung-ho on a strict, life-saving diet. We both stayed true but as time goes on that dry toast with eggs for breakfast is a bummer. I mean, you can only prepare an avocado so many mornings until you run out or you just crave butter. We've found gluten-free pizza and pasta and we've all done our best to adhere to the plan. But some days Kim just needs a little something to pick up her spirits, a literal taste of the good stuff. And so we go by her instinct right now and every now and then she has real butter on toast or enjoys a piece of real pizza. Consider it 85% strict and 15% thoughtfully indulgent. We're not going too far off course but keeping the spirit alive is as important as the body. And, yes, I look the other way on some snack size Halloween candy bars this week.

Complacency
I'm not exactly sure that complacency is the word I want here but it's the one that came to mind. As you have just read, we've loosened the restrictions on diet to allow Kim some moments of joy. But successful progress and the long length of time this treatment requires allows bad habits to form or return or for drift from the goal to occur. Being satisfied with where we are and mastering the new normal does not mean we've reached our goal or that Kim is simply going to coast across the finish line for the win.

Prior to Kim's diagnosis the house always had a drawer full of sugarfree chewing gum. I've always looked past the phenylketonurics warning on the labels but with the new lifestyle I wanted it gone. Just last week I saw a new pack in the drawer and had a piece. The next day I did the same and then had that what-the-hell-are-you-doing moment with myself. Give an inch and you may give up a mile. I'd also been very diligent about using a water filter since Kim's diagnosis, (Kim and the boys have always used one), but in the past week I've just filled bottles at the tap and told myself, "next time" on the filtered water. Acceptance of the disease and treatment along with control of the process has us comfortable and we allow ourselves to drift back into convenience. Just yesterday, in fact, Kim forgot to go to her acupuncture appointment because she's been feeling so good. Or, she's just accustomed to feeling the way she now feels. There's also a little chemobrain at work, too.

In racing, you charge toward to line, not just cruise across and we've got to get back to the focus and discipline of our early ways. Many, many thanks to the meal train supporters for their amazingly delicious and healthy meals. We are back on track. (OK, a few more candy bars and then back on track!)

Thank you, as always, for reading and sending your thoughts to Kim. Yes, we can feel it here. Every day we feel it.

Some days our Big View is just walking down to the Willamette River 

This goofball keeps us in good spirits