A cancer journey – six months of treatment down … 18 more to go!

Infusion time!
It has been years since I sat down and watched an episode of The Simpson’s. Looking back, I can certainly relate to the kids on the show. We have our own Lisa, Bart and Maggie characters in our family. So does anyone remember The Simpson’s “Itchy and Scratchy Show?” They are a mouse and cat cartoon, within the Simpson’s show. The cat and mouse are actually really mean to each other. I recall always letting out a disapproving “yuck” and covering little eyeballs in the room whenever the duo came on the screen.

Well, we have our own “Itchy and Scratchy Show” at the Frantz house. Not to worry … no violence involved. It seems one of Rick’s side effects from the Immunotherapy is lots of itching. Not only that but now he has little red spots popping up. Reminds me of perpetual chicken pox. So if that is all he has to deal with during cancer treatment, we are counting our blessings big-time.

It is why Rick had a dermatology appointment last week at MD Anderson to help with the issue before things get out of hand and the dude is covered in little red spots. They even did a biopsy to make sure it really wasn’t a big deal. Two prescriptions later, one a gigantic vat of itch cream I swear I could dip him in, and we were out of there. It was the shortest day on record at MDA for us.

This week Rick finished up maintenance infusion number five! Dr. Campbell confirmed that with six months of treatment under Rick’s belt, side effects from the immunotherapy would almost certainly be limited to the itching and was actually pretty common. Rick’s immune system is like another cartoon from my own childhood … Mighty Mouse … to the rescue!

When I mentioned to Dr. Campbell, our awesome oncologist, that maybe he could take out that one stitch from the biopsy last week since we were there, he said, “I don’t have a kit.”

“While I don’t have one either,” I said back.

The dermatologist did indicate to me it was really easy. Sure … that is what they all say … was my first thought. Dr. Campbell then drew a large picture of how to take the stitch out. Like the 84 injections after kidney removal surgery, it looks like I’m committed.

The birthday that almost wasn’t was also celebrated this week. I’m still pinching him to make sure he is real. Rick was the birthday boy with cake baked by adorable pregnant daughter, Katie, with lots of help from grandson Jacob. The little guy cracks a mean egg.

No MDA visits for two weeks. On the radar … CT and MRI scans and maintenance infusion #6. We aren’t even close to done yet. Thanks for continuing to keep us in your prayers!

A cancer journey – knocking the dominos down one at a time

Infusion time!
Each early morning visit to MD Anderson reminds me of setting up a bunch of dominos on their short edges in interesting configurations. The hope is after touching the first one, the dominos will all fall, one right after the other, so we can hurry and get back on the HOV toward home before the sun sets. We still haven’t gotten used to the fact … it is probably not ever going to happen. It is why we take two cars for infusion day. That way I can be sure to get home in time for Mimi’s bus.

Maintenance infusion number three happened on August 11, and started with the usual bloodletting. Step two is wait to chat with clinical trial nurse to go over symptoms and blood work. We have always been told the wait is two hours to get back test results. So of course we left the 7th floor and headed down to Cool Beans for coffee and hot chocolate. We found a quiet corner table and Rick set up his phone with our favorite playlist for some chill time.

We headed back to the 7th floor only to find out they were looking for us an hour before to get started chatting early with the clinical trial lady. So much for speeding things up on our part. We won’t do that again. Good news … Rick’s lipase number continues to improve. He is back at the top of the normal range. We chatted with the PA, the lovely Simi, and Dr. Campbell paid us a visit. Turns out he read my blog. It seems I remind him of his mother, who is also a quilter and, I think, teaches English Literature. Who knew? Step three … we headed to the eighth floor where the infusion would happen. We check-in and then go to lunch before heading back up to wait some more. This part of the day is always where Rick and I turn into grumpy bugs because of all the waiting … sometimes three or four hours just to get sent back into the room for the infusion. It is painful. I know lots happens behind the scene until the infusion finally goes drip, drip, drip for an hour. Then wait another hour afterward, for side effects, and finally head for home … in time for dinner.

Note to self … always go to infusion therapy to get IV started. We forgot this time. Some of the ladies in charge of the actual infusions don’t do that part very well. It is painful to watch. I can imagine how Rick felt.

Fast forward to yesterday and maintenance infusion number four! It was pretty much rinse, wash and a repeat of the last one. Only this time MD Anderson had installed IPads on the wall near the check-in desks. The concept sounded like it might work, but I think they need to tweak that one a little. After IPad check-in, you sit down and wait to be called on your cellphone to head toward the check-in desk to get your mandatory MDA “wristband.” The IPad also forgot to inform the MDA peeps that only do “vital signs” that Rick was in the building.

Bottom line … this time we didn’t leave the 7th floor for Cool Beans. Well … actually I left and came back with coffee and hot chocolate. Rick’s lipase is still dropping. It is obvious now the high level had something to do with his kidney removal surgery. Rick had his IV put in by Infusion Therapy peeps. He didn’t get a good one. She stabbed him twice before Rick requested someone else. Then finally the infusion after a long four-hour wait. Rick made it home again in time for dinner.

To mark our continued progress, we are now collecting the wrist bands we cut off at the end of infusion day to visualize how far we have come until the trial finishes in March of 2018. I wish we had started this at the beginning. We would probably have 40 wrist bands by now with all the testing and other doctor visits.

In September, we have two more maintenance infusions, MRI and CT scans. It will be interesting to see if things continue to shrink.

So the dominos … they continue to fall. Maybe not always in the orderly way we want them to. Lord, I think we need to add patience to our list. We continue to feel so blessed and thankful for Rick’s return to good health.

A cancer journey – struggling with the schedule

Infusion time!

Two weeks ago, Rick had his first of many “maintenance” immunotherapy infusions of Nivolumab for the clinical trial he is on for his clear cell kidney cancer. The hope is the drug will re-train his “T” cells to recognize and destroy any remaining cancer cells.

Fast-forward to yesterday and we were hopeful to get the go-ahead for “maintenance” infusion number 2. We gotta do this every two weeks for about 20 more months … not to mention scans every few months. It is going to be a very long haul … but I believe the worst is behind us. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Rick had a kidney/tumor removed two months ago. Seems a little surreal. Rick has been back at work for the last few weeks and was finally cleared to climb on all that fun metal stuff at the plant.

It is why Rick and I have been huddling with the calendar trying to figure out how to integrate these MDA visits into our lives with work and family. The whole infusion thing reminds me of baking cookies. The infusion recipe has a specific order and involves several ingredients starting with blood work. Actually, Rick and I lovingly call it an old-fashioned bloodletting because they take over a dozen vials of blood. That is done the day before, or at the very least two hours prior to meeting with the clinical trial research peeps. She asks bunches of questions to see how Rick is doing and records the answers on a computer. I don’t think she found a spot to record my answer, “Rick has his sense of humor back!”

Next ingredient … we stir in a meeting with the PA, the lovely Simi, and sometimes Dr. Campbell, the oncologist. If all the blood work looks fine, we head to another floor to bake at 350 degrees or until done. Actually, that is where we go for the actual infusion. Like waiting for bread to rise, that part involves waiting around for a couple of hours for whatever goes on behind the scene and finally the infusion. Why am I telling you all this? Because these infusions days can easily burn a whole workday.

So Rick and I tried an experiment this week with the schedule. Rick drove to MDA from work late in the day on Wednesday for his blood work. On Thursday, Rick and I met with the clinical trial “team” in the early afternoon and was approved for his infusion. We figured it would be way easier to make up a few hours at work then a whole day. Good news … his lipase numbers had dropped again. Rick was now so close to the absolute top of the normal range. Actually, there was a few minutes when it looked like we might be sent home again. Imagine throwing out a perfectly good batch of unbaked cookie batter. It felt like that!

I left MDA at 3:30 pm to head back to meet Mimi and her bus. Rick finally pulled up into the driveway after 7 pm. I could tell by the look on his face this wasn’t going to work and he had a “Plan B” in mind. I have a call into Dr. Campbell’s awesome scheduler, Lauren. Hopefully, she can work some magic for when we head back down to MDA in two weeks for “maintenance” infusion number 3.

A cancer journey – kidney surgery post-op … and an unexpected detour

Kidney pillowWe have been dreading Monday since we saw the appointments listed weeks ago on Rick’s MDA patient portal … blood work, appointment with Dr. Karam (kidney surgeon), CT scan and MRI. It had been five weeks since Rick’s left kidney was removed and we were just ready to get back on immunotherapy infusions on Tuesday. But first post-op appointments! It was a long stressful day with lots of waiting. I guess we had both worked ourselves up into being grumpy bugs. Rick didn’t make it through the back door until 9:30 pm.

The highlight of the day was the appointment with Dr. Karam which went very well! Rick is cleared for normal activity and like a long football pass into the end zone he handed Rick back over to our oncologist, Dr. Campbell. We would see Dr. Campbell the next day. Nothing majorly amiss on Rick’s bloodwork taken a couple of hours earlier. Dr. Karam was also making us an appointment with a kidney doctor to teach Rick how to take great care of the one kidney he has left.

My big question was will Rick be able to lift things normally at some point. During the past five weeks of recovery, Rick was instructed not to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. Helping lift our handicapped daughter was obviously not in the program. When Dr. Karam said, “Yes, but over time,” I was excited. Of course, if I were able to hear Rick’s thoughts, I am sure he was thinking about that next great big fish he was planning to catch!

Just as Dr. Karam was about to leave I said, “Wait, we have a present for you.” You should have seen the look on his face when I handed him the plush purple “kidney pillow.” Hubby received the kidney from our grandson, Jake, after his kidney removal surgery.

“Is it filled with kidney beans?” Dr. Karam smiled.

He had never seen anything like it. Turning the kidney around, he remarked how the pillow was actually the right kidney. We all chuckled.

“I’ll put this in my office. Will you autograph the tag?” Dr. Karam said.

On Tuesday, Rick and I backed out of the driveway after Mimi left for her day center at 7 am and hopped on the HOV to the medical center. The plan was first bloodwork, see Dr. Campbell and then start back up with immunotherapy infusions. At least that was the plan. As I have explained in a previous post, the bloodwork they do for a clinical trial is so much more extensive then the normal stuff. Yesterday, three vials were taken. On Tuesday, Rick counted 16. Next we started our appointment in Dr. Campbell’s area meeting first with the nurse, then the clinical trial research lady, who asks questions and goes over lab results. She mentioned we would be entering the “maintenance” phase of Rick’s treatment. I liked the sound of that. Everything was looking like we would soon be headed to the 8th floor for an infusion when she said, “wait.” One of the tests on the pancreas came back elevated, but she would let Dr. Campbell talk about that.

First the good news … even though it has been eight weeks since Rick’s last immunotherapy infusion, the remaining small tumors continue to shrink. How was that possible? Dr. Campbell used the word “remarkable,” my new favorite word. He also mentioned the areas in the bone were “healing.” Great news! I was wondering when we were going to talk about the bone areas.

Then Dr. Campbell explained that Rick’s pancreas was inflamed. Obviously, this was not something that was screened for on Monday. His pancreas levels had previously been normal although the bloodwork was all pre-kidney surgery. Dr. Campbell explained the elevated numbers could be as a result of the surgery … or the immunotherapy drugs.

One of the other causes is drinking LOTS of alcoholic beverages. Since one of the restrictions of the trial is no alcohol that one was scratched off the list. Rick hasn’t even gotten close enough to a beer to sniff since he has gotten on the trial! Dr. Campbell  mentioned that in clinical trials their goal is to “do no harm” and Rick would be referred to a GI doctor to find out what was happening with his pancreas. Obviously, the immunotherapy infusion did not happen on Tuesday. The possibility also loomed like a dark cloud that Rick could be removed from the clinical trial.

We left MDA and headed home. What just happened? I wanted to cry, but no tears spewed from my tear ducts. This is just a little detour. We wanted to go straight down the road and were asked to exit the freeway. Not a great reason for tears.

Please don’t stop praying for us!

A cancer journey – recovery from surgery

Heparin
Rick is now in recovery mode 15 days after having his left kidney and cancerous tumor removed. We just finished his longest walk ever … probably one-quarter of a mile … around the block! Things are looking up!

In the beginning, most of his recovery days were a challenge. Had to help him get into a sitting position from the bed … he slept most of the day … eating not so much … requests for pain meds. None of those things are happening now.

Of course I’ve had lots of help. Rick’s awesome sister, Bonnie, has been staying with us for nearly two weeks. We are great at tag-teaming between caring for Rick and Mimi, our daughter in a wheelchair. We can’t even talk about Bonnie leaving on Saturday. Getting the Kleenex ready!

I’m getting pretty good at giving Rick the heparin (prevents blood clots) injections three times a day. Think I only performed one really sorry-excuse- for-a-needle-stick once … maybe twice. Today is “day 11” of 28 days. The bowl of heparin doesn’t appear to be shrinking.

This week Dr. Karam, the kidney surgeon, called to let us know about the pathology report of the removed tumor. It was stunning news. The margins were good and ALL the cancer cells in the tumor were dead.

I didn’t know what great news this was until I spoke with Dr. Campbell, the oncologist, the next day. He told me he had never had a patient have the primary tumor completely killed by immunotherapy drugs. He had one patient come close. I remember Rick telling Dr. Campbell when we first started this journey he was going to be Dr. Campbell’s “star pupil.” Obviously, Rick does not disappoint.

The end of this month we travel back to MDA for post-op appointments and start back up with infusions! We have more tumors to destroy!

A cancer journey – kidney removal surgery


It has been a week since Rick’s left kidney/tumor was removed. Whoever said it “takes a village to raise a child” musta also been talking about someone having major surgery. Throw our special needs daughter into the mix and the village quickly became a small metropolis. Our son, Ricky, and lovely daughter-in-law, Kate, flew in from Washington, DC. Our daughter, Katie, along with son-in-law, Chad, and even grandson, Jake was also there to help. We thought we had all our ducks in a row with our dream team in place! After all, hubby was only going to be in the hospital two to three days tops.

A day before surgery, my friend, Mary, stopped by with fruit and sandwich trays with a card signed by so many people with special needs connections. There was also homemade brownies from Sandy, and macaroni salad from Jan. I gotta get that recipe! How did they know I hadn’t thought about feeding the dream team?

On the morning of the surgery, Katie surprised her dad in the surgery waiting room with a visit from Jake. It was magical watching Jake run toward Rick yelling “Pop-Pop.” Nothing like your favorite two-year-old crawling in your lap to lessen the tension. We didn’t know it at the time, but surgery day would be twelve long hours until Rick finally made it into his hospital room for the night. We were updated so much along the way from meetings in pre-op, to surgery updates every two hours, and finally visiting in recovery. When we met with Dr. Karam, the kidney surgeon, after surgery we learned the kidney/tumor removed was the size of a cantaloupe. I will never forgot how he held his hands up to represent the size of the tumor/kidney. Everything went as planned!

In a vague peanut shell … the details you don’t want to know … the hospital stay lasted five days and nights with lots of walking the halls trying to get his gut to wake up. Seems thirty percent of patients have this challenge after surgery and we just had to wait. Someone spent each day and night at the hospital. It was a regular relay team. I only had plans in place for people staying three nights. I took one night and Ricky stayed two. When things dragged on through the weekend, I called his brother, Gary. Our Katie also spent a night. The nights were especially challenging. At MDA they wake you up at night for something every couple of hours. I got the feeling sleep isn’t a priority at MD Anderson. Getting well is!

I think it was on day two that Katie, Jake and Chad paid a visit to Rick’s hospital room. Jake was bringing Pop-Pop a stuffed purple “kidney” pillow. The plan was for Jake to enter the room and say, “Pop-Pop I think you dropped something,” and then hand him the kidney pillow. I think he only got the words, “Pop-Pop” out but you get the picture!

Sometime during day four, the nurse said I had to watch an instructional video to learn how to give Heparin injections. Yep … I would be giving Rick injections three times a day for 28 days. Lucky me! After the video the nurse had me practice on Rick. Good thing the needle was small … very small. I can do this … but I will be glad when we are finished!

We are now in recovery mode at the house, getting lots of sleep, and better every day. When Ricky and Kate boarded the plane for home, Rick’s awesome big sister, Bonnie, came to stay for a couple of weeks and we are tag teaming nicely!

Things I have learned … my neighbor, Marie, makes the best soup and decorated “happy face sun” sugar cookies! She always me smile! I learned that when someone sends you an email asking how they can help, you write them back. I asked for help bathing Mimi … and then they also brought Mimi and I holy communion and homemade cookies and muffins. I am so blessed. I also learned that sometimes people know exactly what you need without asking. And I learned the reason I never considered becoming a nurse … giving injections!

A cancer journey – the green folder

Lots of wheelchairs to borrow
Next week is surgery week. Rick’s left kidney comes out on Tuesday! It all sounds a little too simple. Right?

We thought we had finished all our appointments during our pre-op day at MD Anderson. Now we could just coast on a lovely, poufy cloud until the big surgery … but wait! It seems in taking all that blood, possibly a gallon by now, someone had forgotten to “type” Rick’s blood. Really? Is that necessary? But Rick’s dog tags from his Air Force days clearly state the dude is an A+. It seems they don’t take anyone’s word on that. The place is careful … very careful … and I actually appreciated MDA for that. So we spent last Friday … the 13th … our anniversary … at MDA for two last appointments.

The first was the lab! Whenever we visit the MDA lab, I hang out in the waiting room. I figure Rick can perform that task himself as there are not going to be any notes I have to take. After about twenty minutes, my macho Rick walked toward me with the funniest grin on his face. The hot pink flexible tape around each arm where the techs took blood were obviously the culprit. I almost fell on the floor laughing. I took his picture with my phone and immediately sent it to our kids.

“Why did they take blood from both arms?” I asked, picking up everything I dropped on the floor.

Maybe I should have gone into the lab area with him!

“They had to take blood out of each arm, with two different technicians, and then they will compare the tests to make sure I match,” Rick explained.

“And so … did you request the hot pink?” I countered.

“I don’t know whose idea that was, but when the first lady was finished, the second one decided I should match. Only they ran out of hot pink and had to scrounge around to find some,” he grinned.

Our next appointment was with patient education in the Mays Building. That was when we were given the dreaded “green folder.” My eyes widened like bowling balls as the nice lady went over everything for about an hour and then put all the paperwork into the folder. Then she slid the green folder over to me. Basically, it was loaded with checklists, Rick’s preparation for surgery, phone numbers, maps and care plan. OK … this wasn’t going to be simple. But I think I already knew that.

First time in ages we finished at MD Anderson before lunch. Next we headed to mid-town for an awesome anniversary lunch at a place called Holley’s Seafood Restaurant and Oyster Bar on Louisiana. Our first time there. It was delicious! Highly recommend sharing the apple pie bread pudding for dessert!

Yesterday I checked MDA’s patient portal for test results. You get three guesses on what Rick’s blood type came out to be.

A cancer journey – waiting for surgery

Lots of wheelchairs to borrow
Not too much to report on the “fighting cancer front” at our house over the past two weeks. Rick has lost his voice for the past 12 days … I mean it is no where to be found. Believe me … I have looked for it everywhere. That and sleep issues have been our main challenges.

It is why we paid a visit to MDA’s Supportive Care for some help. Rick has never taken a sleep medication so this was going to be uncharted territory for us. Getting up seven or eight times at night just isn’t good for anyone. The Supportive Care people have expertise with helping control the many cancer symptoms their patients experience. It took a couple of nights taking the prescription, but now Rick wakes up rested and experiences no fatigue during the day. Can I get an amen?

We also asked Supportive Care with help retrieving Rick’s voice. It is here we learned that MDA doesn’t help with illnesses not related to cancer. Good to know! A trip to our local Dr. Young’s office revealed an ear infection and swollen vocal cords. We left with a few medications. It has been just over a week on meds and not sure the voice is on the comeback trail. We just don’t want this to be an issue to not perform the surgery. That left kidney has got to go!

Yesterday, we survived five pre-op appointments at MDA. Every time I go to MDA, I learn new things. I learned it is a good idea to have a medical bracelet made that tells people he has one kidney and is on a clinical trial. What a great idea! I also learned if you go to your primary care physician with an ailment and are prescribed meds, be sure and let the MDA people know. If you are on a clinical trial, there are certain medications you can’t take! You don’t want to get kicked off the trial. I learned appointment times are kinda like suggestions. Basically, you have a slot! If you happen to be early for an appointment they just might take you. So getting on the road back home early could really happen.

A cancer journey – CT scan and infusion results

Infusion drugs!
When last we hung out, Rick had just finished his third immunotherapy infusion. So for about two weeks the superman t-cells have been “cooking” on Rick’s insides. I can tell you we haven’t been twiddling all four of our thumbs this whole time. We ordered a car to be converted for transporting Mimi in her wheelchair, completed construction on a pocket door for Mimi’s room (it needed to be widened for years), and celebrated our grandson Jake’s second birthday. We are in serious love with the tyke!

Rick’s CT scan was this past Sunday … yes I said Sunday … at MD Anderson, the hospital that rarely sleeps. Our awesome daughter, Katie, took her dad for me while I hung out with our Mimi. If you have never had a CT scan, I can tell you do not feel compelled to add it to your bucket list. Not a fun way to spend your day. First you drink a large flavored drink in the waiting room. Rick chose “watery orange” this time. Yum! Then an IV is started. The rest is a mystery to me as daughters and wives have to sit and wait in the waiting room. After lots of hours, Rick came out all done and wasn’t glowing.

On Monday, we had an early morning appointment with the kidney surgeon, Dr. Karam. We pretty much knew from the beginning Rick’s left kidney (the cancer “mothership”) would be coming out. Now we would be getting a surgery date and meeting with the surgeon for the first time. Rick still wasn’t feeling well from the CT scan, so in my haste to pack crackers and nausea medication before backing out of the driveway, I neglected to bring any paper for taking notes. I just know it … someone is going to take away my Girl Scout card for not being prepared.

In the end, I wrote everything down on the back of a Kroger grocery receipt. Here is what he told us. We talked in general terms about the CT scan. No numbers or percentages. The phrase “mixed response” was thrown out. Surgery is Tuesday, May 24. Actual surgery takes about three hours, not including all the stuff happening on the front and back end. Hospital stay is two to three days. Recovery … about two weeks but still not running sprints. Interesting factoid about MD Anderson … they give you a surgery time the day before the surgery. The reasoning is surgeries get cancelled and then some surgeries get added so there are always lots of shuffling of the cards. Seems like it could work for the benefit of patients. I’ll let you know how well it works.

Today we had an appointment with Rick’s oncologist, Dr. Campbell. This is the visit I was most interested in as we’d get information on how the infusion drugs have been working. His first CT scan was in mid-February right before he was diagnosed. This was an important visit!

We learned that in just over two months, the tumor in his chest is reduced by forty percent. OK … double digits! The tumors in the lungs are clear. That means they can’t see them. Can I get an “amen?” The tumor in the liver is reduced by twenty-five percent. We were pleased with the number! The tumors in three bone areas “lit up” as unchanged, but it was explained that the CT scan is not a really good indicator with the bone. We will get further on down the road and perhaps at some point do a bone scan and get a better feel on those areas. The kidney tumor has not changed in size but doesn’t look the same. He was not concerned about this since it was coming out. Rick’s mission for the next four weeks is to get in shape for the surgery. Dr. Campbell suggested a personal trainer. He also mentioned yoga. Yeah … like that is going to happen. I don’t expect the Incredible Hulk in just four weeks but then again … I know an awesome personal trainer!

Bottom line … the tumors are responding to the immunotherapy infusion drugs. Clearly, the power of prayer and immunotherapy is working!

A cancer journey – the third infusion

Infusion drugs!

On Monday, Rick gave lots of blood for MDA to work with. It is MD Anderson’s clinical trial standard operating procedure. The following day we were to  see the doctor and have the infusion. I counted 15 vials of blood taken and I didn’t even faint. OK … I got a little weak in the knees maybe. I don’t know how the lab technicians do this all day.

On Tuesday, we met with Dr. Campbell, our kidney oncologist. Rick’s blood work continues to majorly improve. Yeah! Dr. Campbell also noted that if he didn’t know exactly where the lump on his chest was located, he would have missed it. He estimated the size now at approximately one centimeter. Lots of smiling while this sinks in! The CT scan in a couple of weeks will give us lots more information, but for now, the signs are all there that the immunotherapy infusions are working their magic.

Next we headed over to the MDA’s Main Building for the last of Rick’s long infusions of the two drugs. The Main Building reminds me of the wild west … a lot rowdier than the calm atmosphere of the Mays Building. It was new territory for us as we had always headed up to the 8th floor of the Mays Building for infusions. Not a big deal except I had to figure out where to go to get Rick’s IV started. It has been our experience, so far, the nurses who drip the drugs are not as well versed in starting IV’s. Not to worry … MDA has people that are expert IV starters. Just ask me … I will tell you where to find them.

The infusion started late and took four hours this time. Our world record was five hours … not counting waiting to get in the door! Yeah … you can burn a whole day hanging out at MDA but then they give you a warm blanket and the tension melts away. Katie drove her dad home for me again so I could get back home for Mimi’s bus. What would I do without her?

As I made my way to collect my car from valet parking I had my own adventure. Not to worry … no blood was spilled. The valet dudes were a little pokey in getting me my car keys. Instead a Valet Supervisor came toward me with a clipboard. Not a good sign. Seems one of the valet drivers backed my car, which has backup camera, into a concrete pillar and crunched one of the tail lights and messed up the paint. Really? In the grand scheme of things … not as big a deal as Stage IV Kidney Cancer … and they are paying to fix it.