Hello!
It's a lovely feeling to graduate from the sick-bay website to a normal one. I am thinking of all of you, friends, in your various far-flung locations, and hoping that the Purim-celebrating crowd among you is having a very merry and joy-filled day. We went last evening to Princeton Chabad, mainly so that Shiloh would have friends to play with, and a good time was had by all.
The Webbs (the Chabad rabbi and his wife) had put out a big box of assorted hats, masks, etc., and at one point Shiloh went around wearing a cap that made him look exactly like the photos from darkest 1940s Europe- it wrenched my heart every time I looked at him. Avishalom, on the other hand, put on a blue wig, which was most becoming (he looks good with hair, as do we all...). Speaking of hair, mine is around the length of Judy Garber's already (and is showing chemo curls). I've decided that Garber must keep it that short in order to console her patients, and so they won't feel too much envy looking at her. Honestly, one really does experience hair-envy: I remember in my bald days, when I visited Patrick and Mary Geary one time, I couldn't remove my eyes from her abundant, beautiful white tresses!
So, here's an update for all of you kind enough to inquire about my recovery progress: I am *much* more energetic now (although I tire, of course, more quickly than of yore). In fact, I am generally feeling quite lively and chipper, full of ideas, and able to work and concentrate. With a concerted effort last week I was even able to finish editing all the articles but one submitted to the conference volume I am publishing together with my friend Andrew Peacock at St. Andrews (I know, very confusing: Andrew of St. Andrews. Lots of "Andrew" there!). Next step will be to write an outline for our grand Introduction, and decide how we'd like to apportion the writing of it between ourselves.
But to finish the health bulletin: Chemo cough is much improved, but still lingering; I am now able to sleep through the night again with only minimal disturbance, so whatever part of my brain controls sleep has apparently adjusted to the hormone deprivation. The vasomotor symptoms have also diminished a great deal, as has the abdominal pain from this last surgery. I am also a lot less clingy: It was far easier for me to let Avishalom go to Munich last week than it had been for me in December when he traveled to London. I have a routine check-up a week from this Thursday, and we shall probably add the bisphosphonate, zoledronic acid (Zometa/Reclast), to the current chemo-endocrine regimen. That is delivered semi-annually by infusion, for three years- although no one is in fact sure how long bisphosphonate therapy should last. The idea behind it is that, in addition to a direct anti-tumor effect, when zoledronate prevents bone resorption, it also apparently makes the bones harder, and somehow more difficult for cancer cells to colonize (and breast cancer cells just love bone). The name of the game hereinafter, for the rest of my life, is buying time- that is, doing whatever can be done to prevent recurrence.
Last Sunday we went on our first (small!) hike since we've been here- and we were all transported to be out in the cold, clean air, bathed in wind and sunlight, with the still woods all around. Shiloh, who never likes to leave the house, actually requested that we go again- so we are planning an outing for next Sunday as well, possibly to the shore this time. In short, I am reveling in being alive- truly alive, not zombie-like chemo approximation!
