You've Got To Move

 Entry 1     9:56 a.m.

New scan, new plan.  This is the day. Jenny seems so relatively healthy, thus I don't have any prognostication.  Keep her, us, in your thoughts today.

Entry 2.       11:09 a.m.

Jenny is insisting on moving things on Saturday.  All the boxes should be gone today.  I explained we are paying for movers, it isn't necessary.  She thinks we will save money.  But one truckoad, a friend has offered a truck, or even two, isn't worth it to me, the savings cannot possibly make up for the inconvenience.  I don't understand.  Sigh.

Entry 3    11:38 a.m.                                           

 [Sitting next to each other on bench in radiology waiting room]
Jenny:  [Apropos to nothing] I wouldn't want anyone else to be here with me.  You understand me better than anyone else.  I am so glad you are here with me.

Geoff: [Silent]

Radiology Tech [standing in doorway entry to imaging rooms]:  Jennifer Gamache!

Jenny [Stands up, methodically locks her phone, double checks that it is locked and puts it in her purse, which is on the bench next to me]: I'll be right back.

Geoff: [Feeling the love and sincerity].

Entry 3.    12:11 p.m.

She has lost 7 lbs. in two weeks.

Entry 4   12:42 p.m.

Lunch. 

Meh.
Entry 5   1:15 p.m.

Waiting for Dr. P.
Entry 6   1:55 p.m.

I wish we could make doctors wait for us.  #30minutesbehindscheduleandcounting

Entry 6  2:43 p.m.

Fuck.

Entry 7.   2:58 p.m.

The tumor hasn't changed, but the liver mets have grown, one a full centimeter, which is a lot.  Dr. P described it as progressing. CA19-9 at 25909.4.





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