Surfin' Bird.

11/23/2017

First off, I want to wish everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving. I know it’s been such a long time since I’ve posted and updated you all, and for that, you can call me a turkey. But try and give me the traditional the Presidential pardon, will ya'?

So yes, wishing you all the best this holiday (not a lie). And for this Thanksgiving we will be continuing our Grant family tradition of going to Chinatown to Shabu Shabu for hot pot (lie). We will pretend that nothing has changed (lie) and enjoy being together as a family (not a lie). This Thanksgiving will be like all the others (lie)- Ben Grant and Aliza Grant are home (not a lie), and Abby is going to bake some cookies with Aliza (not a lie). We will relax and chill (not a lie) and be carefree (lie). The holiday season should be great this year (lie).

You can think of this post, I suppose, as one of those movies with lots flashbacks and flash forwards. Probably because I’ve started and stopped it so many times as a lot has happened, and then before that a lot had not.

So folks, I had a post started and almost ready to go last week. Was all about us leading an “uneventful life” for the past few weeks. And meaning it in the best way. But there’s been some fairly major things in the several days since that have developed, so I’ll push the older, started post, back into the bowels of this post. I suppose it will all makes sense when all is said and done. Remember the flashbacks and flash forwards I mentioned? Well I’ll spell them out for you so you don’t have the sometimes-confusing disconnect when watching one of those movies.

FLASHBACK: I’m sitting here at MGH in Danvers, while Abby starts the process of having a PET scan (Positron Emission Tomography- say that 3x fast). Basically, it’s an uber expensive test, and they inject a special dye that has "radioactive tracers” that are injected into a vein in your arm, or in Abby’s case, her “power port". Your organs and tissues I guess absorb the tracer. When highlighted under a PET scanner, the tracers help your doctor to see how well your organs and tissues are working. I did not memorize all that sh*t BTW- had to (re)look it up as she almost had one several months ago but insurance wouldn’t pay for it. And I’m not in the room w/her, as I guess they don’t want my organs and tissue glowing since Halloween was a couple of weeks ago and I missed my moment.

Why are we here? Well that’s the good/bad/mediocre news. Abby got all new scans done last week, and we got the results on Thursday. A “mixed bag” was the doctor’s intro- personally not what I wanted to hear in the first minute of conversation. The good news- her tumor has really continued to shrink, and you could visibly see the opening in her esophagus that was now about an inch wide, instead of the dangerously small 1/4” that it was when she went into the ER originally. And when I asked if it was dying, he said “yes”. But the sucker punch immediately came after that, and those are never fun to be on the receiving end of, as I can attest to. Basically, it looks like it may have spread; there’s a spot on the top of her lung, that looks "very suspicious”, an interesting phrase to be sure, like it’s creepily lurking around in there and it needs watching, which I guess it is in a way and it does. And then there were also two lymph nodes in her upper chest that were also “suspicious”. What is it with that word? Now I feel like cancer is creeping around all the corners of my wife’s body like some rogue KGB agent, and I don’t like it a bit. Time to send in Liam Neeson, shrunk down into a tiny submarine like in one of my old favorite sci-fi-movies, “Fantastic Voyage”. A whole crew gets miniaturized and injected into a scientist’s body and they have one hour to repair a blood clot in his brain. After an hour, they, and the submarine, return to normal size, in which case, well the ending would be very unpleasant for all those involved. Great special effects at the time.

I’m sure you’re all saying “who gives a crap about that old movie just tell me what this all means” and well, we’re not exactly sure- that’s why I’m sitting here while Abby Trotter Grant is having her scan. The doctor said there would likely be more chemo/radiation/immunotherapy if it turns out the lung and lymph nodes are cancerous. I think they’re pretty sure about the lung, and it looks that way on the scan too, ugly black spot that it is, but there’s a chance the nodes could be just inflamed from all the radiation/chemo she’s had. Again, the PET scan will be the soothsayer. They also said that if the nodes aren’t cancerous, they weren’t too worried about the lung because it would be very treatable with either a week of radiation, or even minor surgery. So, I guess there’s that. But I think we are preparing for the worst as they say, and I hope that it just means that the road trip we’re on just got extended, whether we wanted it to or not. So over hill and dale we will go, with a designated driver not of our choosing. But, we will have a lot of people riding shotgun with us, and will have a very crowded backseat for the ride-along. I think we’re ok with that (not that we have a choice here), as long as the end the road trip winds up at the pot ‘o gold of a clean bill of health.

FLASH FORWARD: The PET scan, unfortunately, confirmed what the CT scans had suggested- the cancer has spread to a spot on her lungs, and into two lymph nodes in her upper chest. Abby Trotter Grant will have a lung biopsy next week to make sure that it’s the same type of cancer (they think it is) and not some different type of cancer- wouldn’t have even thought about that, honestly, but now we get to. Once the biopsy is back, the docs will figure out next steps. They said it is “treatable” so that was good to hear, but what treatment it will be remains to be sen, but chemo and possibly immunotherapy were mentioned in the same breathe.

FLASHBACK: Now, putting Abby aside for a moment (I’m sure she will love to read THAT), after the PET scan I’ll get Abby home and settled, then head over to the vet to pick up Jake, our 110lb. plotthound/mutt shelter guy, though all our brood are from the shelter. He was finally diagnosed with a dislocated hip, finally getting X-rays a couple of weeks ago. Poor guy- he’s such a stoic and stalwart dog, powering through the pain. Hounds are definitely one-of-a-kind- they can drive you nuts with their barking and baying and stubbornness, but they are sweet as hell, gentle and hardly complain as long as you give them the requisite belly rub. And a spot on your bed doesn’t hurt either. Anyway, we decided to get him hip surgery; not cheap; but way cheaper than a hip replacement which was like a million dollars or something- maybe a little less but might as well have been a million considering what we have going on. The alternative was to put him down, which Abby said would be emotionally ruinous to her- well ok she didn’t quite use those words, but that was the gist. And of course, for me too- it’s not his time, and he’s only 8 to boot, and we will get through this. So I get to go pick him up, all cone-headed out and barely able to walk, stapled up and all. Recovery should be interesting, and I think he will be on more meds than Abby. Trying not to think about all the stairs leading to our house, never mind upstairs where he likes to hang. My brain keeps saying “this too shall pass” and my back keeps saying “ugh” as I’ve previously been trying to help him via a harness getting in and out. Luckily, he has the bladder of an elephant. But did you know that all animals regardless of size, take about 21 seconds to pee? I’m learning so much these days.

After picking up Jake and settling him in, I can get ready for my 6:00pm-9:45pm class at Emerson tonight. This is my triathlon I guess. I never really understood how marathoners, or any elite athletes got through their pain and exhaustion until I did martial arts. My Sensei, Lou Hopkins, did a pretty good job of explaining and helping how you have to let the pain in and accept it, as opposed to fighting it, which is our natural inclination. It took me awhile to understand the concept, and to let it happen physically because it still sucks and hurts, but it has served me well over the years and got me through not only many 8+ hour promotions (i.e. torture tests), but also through other physical and mental pains too along the way.

FLASH FORWARD: back to MGH. Abby has emerged. I only know that because I went to the bathroom and when I came back she was looking around for me. Bear in mind that this was the only 2 minutes I left the waiting room. It reinforces my theory: if at a restaurant and you are waiting for food or drink, just go to the bathroom. Odds are that it will be waiting for you when you get back. Try it, and let me know- I get great results myself. Anyway, we hope to have the results by the end of the week, but still haven’t been able to confirm that yet. Fingers crossed every which way- maybe that’s why people are staring at me(?), or maybe it’s because I’m the only person here not seeming to be reading People magazine, which considering the locale, I guess is mindless fodder. If you’d like to read on, you can transport yourself back to last week before we knew all of this. If the movies can use this plot device, why can’t I? Love and kind words and thoughts to all of you who are still hanging with us through this.

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FLASHBACK: The last 2-3 weeks since my last “update” have been fairly uneventful, a word that I appreciate the meaning of much more now than before Abby was sick. I use to think of it as meaning basically boring, that your life was just ok and moving forward. Probably even leaning a tad to the negative side, uneventful was uninspired, maybe even lackluster. I suppose at one point I wouldn’t have wanted someone to discuss me and say “oh he leads an uneventful life”. You know, a life filled with muted grays and browns and blahness. But the truth in uneventful living is finding and appreciating all those moments that occur during this time; that there really are things to care about and savor and maybe not always like but they matter nonetheless; the good the bad and yes, the ugly little things. I think acknowledging them is important so that you take them in stride and don’t let them become eventful things, unless of course we are talking only about the good little things, not the dope who was tailgating you, or the hour and a half you spent on the phone with the insurance company going over ambulance bills going back to July, one by one, date by date, invoice number by invoice number. Maddening? Yes. Comical? That too. Just got to laugh; trust me.

So some things of course actually happened during the last few weeks of uneventful living, but they were about as newsworthy as the things you’d find buried in the Metro section of the Globe, way back, squeezed in between the awful 1/32 of a page ads for hearing aids or make money from home schemes. We have been trying to get a new humidification system that has a heater so the air temp can be adjusted. Right now, it’s just coolish air, and as the temperature drops, Abby is missing the nice warmish air that she got in the hospital. We were told by one of the very nice VNAs that we should be able to get one, and that it not only had a range of temps, but was about 1/4 of the size of the machine we have now, and much quieter. Of course anything would be quieter than having a 747 parked next you readying for take off. The catch though, seems to be that no one knows how to fill out the scrip. We have one, but none of the doctors seem to know what the insurance company wants for supporting information so we can get the friggin’ thing. So far, I’ve talked to Abby’s medical and radiation oncologists; her primary care doc; the doc who did her trachea surgery/ENT office; the social worker at MGH; the reps at the company who supply the equipment; the guy on the corner talking to himself… Well, hopefully someone, somewhere, somehow will get to the bottom of this- no wonder healthcare is such a boondoggle.

FAST FORWARD: Back to present day (Thanksgiving) to wrap up my hopefully not-to-confusing post. Was up at 5:45 for some reason: dogs/cats/Abby who knows why anymore that I’m not sleeping great. Went to Starbucks and got the kids coffee/hot chocolate- nice to see Dan DiLisio there- should’ve asked him why he was up so early(?) Came home, let the dogs out, wiped their muddy paws off, fed them, attempted and finally succeeded to give Jake his pills, of which he gets about 15 per day, post-surgery. Was putting them in his food- caught onto that. The pill pockets he’s long been suspicious of; peanut butter worked for awhile until it didn’t; was having great success with cream cheese until he caught onto that. This morning finally added wet cat food into the mix. Nothing like using your fingers and digging into wet cat food early in the a.m. to squish it around the pills- no other way to do it folks- got to get your hands dirty. Jake is a hound, so he can smell a pill a mile away. Next up that has worked in the past: turkey baby food. Yup, disgusting.

So we will try and enjoy this Thanksgiving as much as possible (not a lie). Will be looking forward to Chanukah and Christmas (lie), or at least the concept of Chanukah and Christmas (not a lie). And why is it that I’ve already seen three cancer stories this morning and it’s only 8:30 (not a lie)? Keep the faith everyone, and thank you again for all the cards, flowers, tissues and paper towels- they really have helped. And finally, a special thank you to the Swampscott National Honor Society and to the Powder Puff girls for helping us this year and making yesterday’s pep rally pretty special, especially because Aliza was able to represent our family, and since she was a previous member of both those groups, it brought it that much closer to home for us. Love to you all, and happy stuffing. And luckily for us, we never miss turkey anyway, since we haven’t had it in 28 years (not a lie).