kvetching up

 Entry 1   2:13 p.m. Jenny's friend Jeanne, who apparently thinks I am terrible to Jenny, (I've read the texts) is here visiting. I have always liked her.  She is one of the therapist friends who was giving Jenny advice after I found out about the affair.

Entry 1     9:18 a.m. The Final Countdown Folfiri day.  I built this chart last night, because I understand numbers better visually.  The last data point is from yesterday, but is not labeled as such, some weird artifact of Excel. Folfiri's efficacy is better than gemabraxane.  Her mets, and yes, as a reread of the radiology report confirms, her tumor has also grown by .5 cm.  Also, there are new mets on the liver, two sub-measurable, one .6 mm. This could explain the pain increase, if the tumor grew in such a manner as to push on the celiac nerve plexus, a bundle of nerves adjacent to the pancreas. I hate this day because it brings terrific nausea, anxiety, and suffering for Jenny.  Additionally, we are all anxious worrying for her. This is the final stretch of 48 weeks of chemo, weeks 40-48. Chemo every other week, with a take-home pump.  On the bright side, the bernedoodle comes Saturday afternoon. What happens after this regime is over?  ...

If You Didn't Care What Happened To Me Jenny was too tired, too weak and in too much pain to accompany Abby and me on the hunt.  The best laid plans.  .  .and all of that.  So, Abby and I went and did recon all over South Seattle.  From Thornton Creek/Northgate to Judkins Park to South Beacon, we met our realtor and explored. We found no gold, lots of dross, and a bit of something in-between.  I called Jenny from each place, giving her my impression of each. After we finished, Abby and I went and dropped a lot of money on gear for the dog, and grabbed lunch at Sprouts, a chain grocery store I used to frequent in my California days and which has established a beachhead at 130th and Aurora. Jenny managed to get up around 1145 and go to lunch with friends.  She was weak and tired the whole time, I could tell, hearing it in her voice every time I called.  She came home and was feeling low.  Sad and angry her eyes were, her mien sad and quiet....