Thursday: Starting Round 4!

Bill got the first installment of round 4 today, and tomorrow gets the Big Drug in an all-day drip.

They've changed what he does for his nausea, and now it's a 24-hour plan. He also now has the ability to go into the clinic any time he feels bad, and they will give him fluids, or anti-nausea meds, or check his blood, etc., so he can now have treatments in between treatments.

To me, this was a relief. While they were talking, I could see Bill cogitating about how would that work with his teaching schedule, but he was told today that if he doesn't make it through all the chemo, THAT could be life-threatening, and he should be much more willing to miss classes and rest more so that he doesn't get so close to quitting chemo as he did this time.

I could tell he wasn't agreeing about missing classes, just listening politely. Bad cowboy!

The great thing he heard was that he was doing "spectacularly" well, according to his blood tests. The doctor said MOST patients have quit this regimen by this point; very few get to round 4 because the drugs are so rough, and that it is surprising that he is doing so remarkably well. Dr. Torti would like to get him through 6 rounds, ending sometime in May.

I'm typing this from our basement, where we will be living for the next three weeks. We're having our floors done in the "house" part of the house, and a couple other things that have needed doing for about four years now. Ooops. Of course, having all of these things happening at the same time is sort of like living our lives in the spin cycle of a giant washing machine.

But we're adapting. For example, I put a roast in the drier last night and set it on "high" for four hours, and it came out great. But after that, I dried Bill's tee shirts in there, and ever since Bill got dressed this morning, the dogs won't stop following him around.

This, too, shall pass.

Love yall!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday Morning

Bill is finally, FINALLY, feeling halfway decent again, and of course this is the week he goes in for the Slam-a-thon chemicals on Thursday and Friday.

He said that yesterday at school, he was able to walk from his car to his office without stopping to catch his breath.

He still looks yellow, and that upsets him, but it's not a bright yellow--more like a light watercolor wash of faded sunflower.

Meanwhile, it's been snowing here, with ice and fog. Lovely!

AND last night the news announced that radioactive iodine from Japan has been found in Florida water, and in North and South Carolina! They're sure it's from Japan because it's half-life is 8 days and only Japanese iodine could fit that timeline. Don't ask me to explain that. haha

ALSO, in case you're not bummed out for the day, yet, scientists have found 42 areas in the U.S. where strange illnesses are extremely concentrated. One of them was in North Carolina--Camp LeJeune--an amazingly high number of cases of male breast cancer. You should look at the map. California is especially loaded with these hot spots of weird diseases.

WHAT?!

Okay. I'd better stop typing and come back when I can be nice.

Oh, wait. I came across a funny quote yesterday, which will end this on a better note. (If you're an atheist, probably just skip this one): "Quit telling God about those big problems, and start telling those problems about your big God."

Dear Radioactive Iodine: There's this Guy I know? And He's pretty BIG, and He is gonna give you WHAT FOR if you set up shop in my thyroid gland!"

Love to all!
B&B

Friday: Onco Doctor Talked Mean to Our Cowboy!

We went to the chemo clinic yesterday, but only for Bill to have blood work done.

He asked the nurses if he could see the doctor for just a minute and ask his questions about chemo, and express his concerns.

One nurse said to him, "Could you ask the nurse your questions, and then if she feels she needs to, she could consult the doctor?"

He politely said, "I think these are questions for the doctor" (because they dealt with quantity of chemicals in chemo and his extreme increase in paleness and sickness and some prescription requests.)

Well, they told us to wait in an exam room, and soon, in rushed the doctor with a clearly upset attitude, shut the door behind her, and she made it instantly clear that she was quite angry at Bill for bothering her.

We were, to say the least, shocked!

She explained in angry tones and with an angry facial expression that "this better be quick because I am VERY busy, I DON'T have a lot of time" and "in the future, you take these things up with the nurses, not with ME, because I am TOO busy for this!"

We were so shocked that we simply looked down at our list and read it as fast as possible, then I apologized about 10 times (I have really big issues when someone is hostile, and I can't stand for someone to be mad, so I automatically apologized profusely even though we had NOTHING to apologize for.)

So outcome: this BUSY doctor finished lecturing Bill (she oddly had plenty of time to add in that gratuitous lecture time before even listening to his questions) and then flew out of the room in her anger, talked to a nurse, they called in two prescriptions for him, and that was that.

Bill actually cracked a JOKE during the "crime and punishment" scene. When the oncologist said, "I don't have a lot of time," Bill said, "Whew. Glad that statement was about you and not about me." She didn't laugh. AT ALL. Her eyebrows were up, her eyes were wide, she was VERY angry the whole time.

WOW!

By about 8 pm, back at home, I was still upset. I said to Bill, "I'm still upset about that doctor. Are you?"

He said, "Nope. I just let it go."

I said, "How do you just let it go? I feel so mad at her. I can TRY to let it go but nothing happens. I still feel mad at her and like we were really unjustly treated."

He just laughed. "I just don't think about it!"

I have so much to learn from him.

And as you can see from the content of this post--it's the next morning, and I'm STILL mad at her! I guess I better try a lot harder to let that thing go...

Wednesday: A Touch of the Blues and What's a "Double Whammy"?

Bill says nothing is new. He is feeling the same, not great, but functional, and in my humble op, he's at least a little bit better than he has been.

He's teaching today. (Ain't he sumthin?)

And tomorrow, Thursday, he wants to speak to his oncologist about his future with chemotherapy. He is thinking that maybe it's too strong, or that he needs a break. He isn't thinking of stopping it altogether, but he is feeling overwhelmed by it, and that something needs to change because he doesn't feel he can continue like this. That's how bad it's been!

In general, it's kind of a, ummmmm, maybe melancholy is the word? day for us. We're battling a second disaster (not about our physical health, at least, thank God, or finances, or anything like that) that struck us in late December and about which I haven't posted, and won't ever be able to post, due to its nature. But apart from Bill's health, it's the second worst thing that has ever happened to us. Kind of like a tsunami on top of an earthquake, but only metaphorically, of course, as nothing should be compared to the suffering of the Japanese people.

Anyway, there. I mentioned it. I don't mean to whine. I just think there's something great about truth, and now you've got our whole picture: we're tromping through a double whammy*.

Now you wish you'd skipped reading this and had that root canal, don't you? Cheered you right up, didn't I?

*grin* Oh well. This too shall pass.

Love,
Your cowpokes (*see below for the history of the term "double whammy" if you're horrifically bored and desperate to fill the next minute with useless information.)

*Double Whammy: History of the term (from a website)

Double whammy

Meaning: A double blow or setback.

Origin

A whammy was originally an evil influence or hex. It originated in the USA in the 1940s and is associated with a variety of sports. The first reference to it in print that I can find is in the Syracuse Herald Journal, October 1939:

"Nobody would have suspected that the baseball gods had put the whammy on Myers and Ernie when the ninth opened."

double whammy'Double whammy' emerged not long afterwards, as seen here in the Oakland Tribune, August 1941, in an interview with the eccentric boxing manager Wirt Ross:

"Shore there's only one way to beat Joe Louis ... No man can lick 'im, it takes a syndicate and that's what I got. I've been taking a course in hypnotism from the famous Professor Hoffmeister of Pennsylvania. When I gave my big police dog the evil eye like this he liked to collapse, went out and nearly got himself killed by the neighbour's pet poodle pooch. Professor Hoffmeister says I don't get the double whammy to put on human beings until Lesson 9."

Ross was well-known for his tall tales and flowery language. It is quite possible that he coined the term in that interview.

'Double whammy' is often associated with Al Capp's Li'l Abner cartoon strip, which featured the phrase several times. In that it referred to as an intense stare which had a withering effect on its victims. ---by Anna at Yahoo! Answers

Monday: He went to work

He was tired and is having trouble, every night, with not sleeping, due to a burning esophagus, but he went to work today, anyway. Of course he did! That's how he is...

I'll write more tomorrow. He isn't home from work yet, and I don't know how his day went, but I am going to guess that it was kinda tough.

Love to all...oh, and yes, First Samuel actually IS a great book. I was goofing around in the last post when I wrote all those zzzzzzzzzzzzz's. (You know me. Bill didn't want me dissing his favorite book in the Old Testament. Therefore I simply HAD to! *grin*)

Saturday: Feelin' the Chemo

I said to Bill, "How about you dictate the blog today, and explain how you feel?"

Bill said, "Nah, don't wanna dictate anything."

But then he said the following, so I secretly typed it out as he was saying it, tricking him into dictating. Oh, the lengths we go to for amusement here on weekends these days. ;)

Bill: Really feeling the chemicals today. Metal mouth, eNORRRRRRRmous fatigue, dizziness, and just a wiped-out feeling. No church tomorrow. Just resting and reading 1 Samuel.

Me: Why First Samuel?

Bill: I wanted to get caught up on Samuel, Saul, David, Jonathan, not to mention Goliath of Gath. It's all there.

Me: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oh! Yeah, that sounds really...um....very....extremely fascinating! That made a great post! Thanks!

(Well that was a real knee-slapper of a post. Next time maybe I'll listen when he says he doesn't wanna dictate.)

Seriously, love to all! And special thanks to Marc Seals for his sacrificial support today (and today ONLY!) for the Florida Gators.

Thursday: Okee Dokee

Billy the Heroic Cowboy muscled his way through Wednesday classes. EVEN THOUGH he had to take a WALKER along--like the real kind of walker like this:



OOPS! NO, WAIT, WRONG KIND OF WALKER. HERE WE GO, BELOW:




Next time, he is considering asking for a wheelchair so he wouldn't have to walk at all.

He might need a little practice with that one, though.

There are some mighty steep hills on that campus. And when I take into account those hills, his unfamiliarity with wheelchairs, and his ability to focus on a book and block out all the rest of reality, I can picture our cowboy flying down a campus hillside about 100 miles an hour, taking out ASU students left and right, and ending up in the middle of 321--staring serenely into space, thinking about his upcoming Beowulf lecture.



Anyway, catastrophizing aside, we have a 10 am appointment at Chemo World, and he is scheduled to get the small drugs today, M&V. I'll post about that later today.

Thank you for praying him through this week. I'm sure it's the only way he did so much.

Love, love, love.

Bill's Better

Bill made it through his teaching until 6 pm yesterday, which was nothing short of heroic. He said his students were wonderful, helping distribute handouts, and even running a projector for him so he didn't have to get out of his chair. When they saw his color, they were probably scared to say no to any request he had!

When I picked him up at his office, he just sort of collapsed into the car, and I got him home, and he was asleep almost immediately.

This morning, Tuesday, he is still remaining in a reclined position all day (on the living room sofa right now--an improvement from being constantly in bed), but is doing okay.

His latest new trouble is that he seems to have pulled his back when he moved his foot yesterday, and now the back pain is worse than the chemo symptoms. Plus he is having more trouble with nausea.

Other than that, we're just doing our Tuesday the best we can.

Thank you for caring and praying and sending him good thoughts!

Day of Worry

Despite being THIS close to tossing his cookies, and despite being white as a picket fence, and despite being unable to walk more than ten steps without catching his breath, AND (you thought I was finished!) despite being so ill that he lost EIGHT POUNDS in 48 hours, that crazy cowboy WENT to the University today to teach his classes.

He couldn't even drive there! I drove him! And I tried to perfectly balance (a) the expression of my opinion that he should stay home; with (b) taking his "no" for an answer.

The last view I had of him, he was walking very slowly toward his office, slightly hunched over, and holding on to a chain link fence beside him for support, as all the students hurried past him. I saw him pull the shoulder strap of his heavy backpack to the side so the strap wouldn't bang into his still-not-completely-healed-port bandage.

Now all I can do is stare at the phone, hoping it rings, asking me to come get him and bring him home and put him to bed with some chocolate Ensure to sip and the kisses of three puppies for his nose and fluffy pillows for his head.

I feel so sad for him today.

Feelin' Po'ly

Not sure how you spell it, but "poorly" is sometimes pronounced "po'ly" in this part of the Deep South wherein we doth reside.

That said, our cowboy Willie is and was and has been feelin po'ly allllllllllllll weekend long. Very, VERY po'ly indeed.

Thanks for your prayers. But he and I both ask, if you only have a little bit of prayers to give, send them up instead for the poor souls in Japan whose suffering is probably unimaginable.

Love to all.

B&B

Our Boy is Not So Good Today

Me: How do you feel right now? I'm updating your blog.

Cowboy Bill (staring at basketball game on TV and giving me shortest answer possible) : Weak and washed out. No energy. You had to do the errands today. But I can still watch basketball OH-GO!!!-BE-THERE!!!-YES!!!!! (Florida made a basket)

Me to Reader: You can see that he is quasi-ignoring me here, giving minimal replies, and paying A LOT more attention to the Florida-Vanderbilt game than to my fascinating inquiries.

I personally cannot imagine anyone watching a basketball game while the nuclear reactors in Japan are threatening to blow to High Smithereens.

But that's my cowboy for you.

He slept 11 hours last night and part of the day, too, but feels bummed out (depressed and discouraged--who wouldn't?!), and feels just ill.

He won't be at church on Sunday, and I'll probably stay home with him. He's a hurtin' cowpoke. But his port is better, and he learned today that the Tsu in Tsunami means Port ("Nami" means "current"): so I guess even the Ring of Pacific Fire is playing along with the Port word-game today.

Speaking of which, we got some more Port Pun Humor from reader D.S.M. I will leave you with this:

"Beth...I thought of another one (or two): Bill is now port-able! AND I pray for the day he gets de-ported! (I love the goofy stuff!)"

Yay! Love you all! B&B

Drip is Done (Friday Afternoon)

We got dripped! And all went just fine. Bill feels fine, as he usually does until Sunday, and he isn't even a funny color! But I'm going to have to collect some designer names for "white" at the paint store, because yesterday, he went "eggshell" on me.

Unrelated Random (Possible Even Pointless) Commentary:

We didn't hear about the tsunamis or earthquake or anything until this morning, but, in a nearly unbelievable coincidence, last night, all night, I dreamed of tsunamis! I dreamed I was in a town they were hitting, and in this dream, our friend Eddie from California was helping people when whole houses came down and washed away in the tsunami. I even dreamed the part where the tsunami goes OUT and the water drops radically. Which I read really happened in California today!

Oh, I know this has nothing to do with chemo, and I know it's hard to believe me, and it's also kind of a "so what?" thing, but I truly did NOT know about the quake or anything until the chemo volunteer told us this morning, and then I remembered my dream. All the pictures of the tsunami hitting Japan look exactly like my dream! Really shocking, but probably only to me...

Means NOTHING. But it's definitely a synchronicity. Next stop: Vegas? Lottery tickets? Part-time job as a forensics psychic? HA! No, no, no. But it WAS weird!

Love to all...

Bill Writes His Own Port Limerick

In a few minutes, we leave for the chemo corral, and will be there at least six hours for the Dripping of the Big Stuff.

Yesterday, Bill wrote a limerick back to our friend who wrote yesterday's limerick, and I thought I'd put Bill's up so you can have something here to amuse you till I can post later about how today goes.

So here is Bill's Port-based Limerick:

My port has been deftly installed,
Like a bank of sturdy stone walls:
No interest it pays,
But is open all day
For deposits and sudden withdrawals.

Bill

Port's First Run, and a Portmanteau of Port Comedy submitted by comically gifted blog followers

If you get so grossed out by this report....oooops: re-PORT...that you think you can't take it any more, just skip to the bottom. Our friends M.G. and L.S. have granted me permission to reproduce their emails of this morning, which consist of port humor so creative that I couldn't even begin to compete.

It is some kind of phenomenon that both of these examples of Port-Inspired Creativity arrived on the very same day.

So first, the GROSS part, then the rehabilitative humor:

Well, we get to ChemoLand and no one,including us (we?), has actually SEEN what's under the bandage for the newly installed port. So the nurse cheerily says, oh, she'll just remove the bandage and we can use the port today.

Well.

She removed the bandage, and the following unexpected things happened:

1. First, the nurse took one look at the scene of the crime and said, "Oh my GOSH!"

2. I looked to see what she was seeing and when I did, I started to lose consciousness, as in FAINT! To remain upright, I put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't gasp and scare Bill, and I started involuntarily hopping from one foot to the other (the fact that I was wearing cowboy boots enhanced the visuals for innocent bystanders, I'm sure) in an effort to contain and/or express my shock.

3. Just then, a VERY EXPERIENCED oncology nurse walked by and said, "Oh! The new port! Can I see?" and when SHE looked, she inhaled sharply, took several steps backward and said, "Oh, OW! That makes the back of my legs hurt just to LOOK at that!"

Yeah, it was that bad.

-----If you're weak of heart, skip to the next dotted line--------------

I was expecting a lightly pinkened bump and a small pink incision under a bandaid.

Nopers.

What we saw was a VERY swollen, red-blood-encrusted under-skin lump the size of a shopping mall CinnaBon, with what looked like either pit bull teeth marks or Nascar tire tracks running across it in various directions, bruised to high heaven, and glimmering in every imaginable combination of purple and red.

Poor Bill is sitting there and can't see it. He's saying, "What? What? What does it LOOK like?" while we're all trying to fake smile at him and either remain conscious, not scream, not run away, not fall down, not throw up in the Hazardous Waste Dispensary box and mostly NOT THINK ABOUT WHAT WE JUST BEHELD. Ever again. In our entire lives.

-----------Weak of heart, resume reading here-------------------

So everything went fine. They used the port after numbing it, and he got some extra magnesium dripped in today, because he keeps falling short of that in his blood, and we were home by about 2, with the M&V chemicals easily infused.

OKAY HERE IS YOUR REWARD FOR ENDURING THE PORT STORY:

From author M.G., Queen of Port Punning:

"Beth: Thanks for the update on the port. But you have missed the boat or the port. What no “Any port in a storm” pun? This has the potential to be even funnier than the colors. He could be your Port Au Prince! He could “report” on his students or work. When he is not feeling well he could Port Whine. If he is feeling well he could be Port-Able. If he wanted to avoid someone he could Port-ion (shun) If he wanted to do some rapping he could have rap-port. You get the idea. Try it yourself."

How can I try it myself? She just used up every possible form of port humor on earth!

Then, in closing, a Port Limerick from the new Poetry Queen (PORT-RY Queen?) of All Port Limericks, L.S.:

There was a young man named Bill.

Who was of a very strong will.

He has a new port,

So he can cavort,

And not worry about the refill!

Seriously, can you believe how much fun can be imPORTed into an otherwise gloomy day by adorable, creative friends, and drama queen nurses?

Love you ALL!

B&B

Wednesday: Port Hurts Less

His port hurts less. Tomorrow, it has its maiden voyage in chemo--he will get M&V through the port! I'll tell you how it all turns out! xoxoxoxo

Port Installed Successfully

Although he may never want to eat PORT wine cheese again, he is now officially PORTed, and there were no complications.

The procedure was a little more surrounded by drama than I had expected, so that freaked me out, and I'm calming down only gradually.

I was picturing the seriousness of, say, getting your ears pierced in a shopping mall, but, yeeeks! No! This seemed like a major thing (even though it wasn't, I guess.)

They checked him into a HOSPITAL ROOM, made him wear a gown, get in bed, installed an IV.

I'm not GOOD with things like that. I over-empathize with him to where I feel actual physical sympathy pains when he gets stuck or bleeds or gets cut, or rolled down a hall in a stretcher--all such things produce a foaming avalanche of little scrubbing bubbles--STRESS HORMONES--running rampant throughout my body, and I end up much more miserable than he is, because HE gets DRUGS, but they leave the caregiver to her own coping devices. Which equal NONE. So I usually cry just a little bit, then I feel better.

Anyway, he's in bed now, and needs 24-hour supervision. He has a few bandages around his collarbone area, and it looks kind of swollen--which gives me that kind of creeping feeling you get when you hear a dentist's drill and worry that the patient has insufficient novocaine. Like eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! COVER YOUR EARS!!!!

I tried singing on the way home with him, to cheer him and myself up. I was trying to sing "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" but I got the words all wrong.

Me: "You won't find me in your HEN HOUSE....."

Bill: "Beth. It's PENTHOUSE."

Me: "Well, so what. It rhymes. GOIN BACK TO MY COWWWWWWWS!"

Bill: "Beth, it's plow..."

When I got to the part of the song where I had to howl an "oooo" sound for several measures, he started looking at his watch. "Are we almost home?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, okay, fine. I know when my Elton John imitation has worn out its welcome." And we had reached the driveway, to his great relief.

So anyway, we're home now. I fluffed up his pillows, he's resting, I'm not singing, and all is right with the world.

Thanks for caring about him and wishing him good things.

We luvs you. xoxoxoxo

Tuesday is Port Installation Day

On Tuesday, we have to be at the cancer center at 9:30 am, not 11:30 am as expected. But that's for some protocol type exam to qualify him for the port installation.

His port procedure isn't until 1 pm, at the hospital.

We have no idea what to expect, but I'll post afterward!

Thanks for caring about the boy, and for your love!

B&B

Saturday, Nothing New (Fashion Colors)

Nothing new for today, which is a hooray situation. :)

He does have a little odd color, still, to his skin. Sort of white looking, but not too bad: he's been worse!

We sometimes stand side-by-side in front of the mirror and compare our skin colors, and today, he's not that far off.

Yesterday, though, he thought my cheeks were pinker than his, but I said it was because I had just walked around Bass Lake (link to Bass Lake pictures below) in a cold wind. (He walked around it, too, but more slowly, and with some sit-down time, during which he watched "the cutest Yorkie" he's "EVER seen!" play ball with its mom--but still--that walk means he went a whole mile yesterday!)

As for skin color descriptions: with the help of our friend Mary, I decided that if he ever gets going on that yellow skin color again, it will be more flattering to him if I use fashion color names to describe his tone.

Bill agreed.

So last time he and I were in Lowe's, we went to the paint section and pulled out a few pages of samples of yellow paint and looked at the color names they use.

So, now, while we hope Bill doesn't have his yellow days during future rounds of chemo, if he does, I will no longer be describing him so boringly as "yellow." Rather, he will be one of the following:

Butterscotch Cream
Spun Honey
Lemon Sorbet
Gold Abundance
Field of Daisies
Golden Promise
Fruit Compote
Hazy Dawn
Coconut Cream
Roasted Chestnut
Afternoon Tea

Thanks for your love. CLICK RIGHT HERE to see pictures of Bass Lake, where we walked, if you're curious.

A Bang-up, Corking, Cracking, Dandy, Great, Groovy, Keen, Nifty, Not Bad, Peachy, Slap-up, Swell, Smashingly Good Enough Friday

...is what we're having!

He feels good. No problems foreseeable for at least four whole days.

Corking, cracking, and dandy!

Thanks for being happy for the boy.

*heart*

Thursday: No chemo this week.

Bill got his blood testing done, and while they've now got his white cells under control, his platelets are now messed up, so next week, he might have to get a platelet transfusion or something.

But now that he'll have time off from any chemo, he can probably start the next round next week. That will be round 3 of the recommended 4 to 6 rounds.

And he feels pretty good, considering!

The oncologist said, though, that if he doesn't stabilize a little better, they're going to have to cut back his dose. He was worried that that might give the cancer an advantage, but the doctor said that it's normal to vary the dosage by up to 15%, as they don't want the chemo, itself, to do him in, (as the amount he's getting this time is kind of violently high, as I've said before.)

So next week, he also gets his "port" installed into his upper chest (Tuesday, in the hospital), and tubes will be run down into his veins, and from then on, no more needle pokes, because everything going in or coming out will just go through the port, which gets numbed, so no more pain, either, at injection sites. (Thank you to those of you who wrote us encouraging notes about how you love having your ports! It gave him the courage! Bless you!)

In closing, we note with great sadness the passing of a man named Hugh, whose son we are friends with and love very much. The man, about Bill's age, was diagnosed on the same day Bill was diagnosed, and even at the same hour as Bill was diagnosed. (We got a cell call in 2009 while we were in the actual doctor's office first being told that Bill had cancer, and the call was to tell us that our young friend's dad had just gotten his first cancer diagnosis. Uncanny timing.) But this wonderful man, a father, a lawyer, an avid golfer and surfer, just lost his battle. His diagnosis began with stage 4--same stage as Bill's--only Hugh had mouth and throat cancer, not bladder cancer.

So if you're the praying kind, or whatever you offer for suffering brothers and sisters out there, maybe you can add one in for Hugh and his family.

"God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, and accepting hardship as a pathway to peace. Taking...this world as it is, not as we would have it...trusting that You will make all things right..." --part of the extended Serenity prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr

Another Good Day

He taught and felt good today!

Hooray!

I think he gets the M&V chemicals tomorrow, but it will depend on his blood chemistry. I'll post!

THANK YOU for your love, prayers, and thoughts.

B&B

He's Back!

Hooray! He feels better!

He doesn't LOOK that much better, but hey, who cares?

And he has his appetite back! Great day at the Drennan Corral.