Things to be thankful for. . .

#1 Our trip to Whitehorse.

  Going home for a week was a well needed boost for mind, body, and soul. We managed to hit my favourite week of the year while we were there. Fall lasts about three weeks in the Yukon, and we were there for its very peak. Light seemed to shine from inside the aspen leaves and the air seemed full of health itself. It was a busy week, with a full day of job interviews, a three day trip into the bush and an overnighter in hospital for me, and a week full of house organization, visiting, and nursing for Meg. The job interviews were challenging, but a nice way to concentrate on the future. My hunting trip with friends Shawn, Pete, and Simon was a return to normalcy that was really the highlight of my last couple of months: we got to watch a young girzzly defending a gutpile, saw a trophy elk, and got to really breathe in the essence of a place that I was wondering when I would see next. The boys treated me (necessarily) like the old man at camp, basically putting a blanket and a rifle across my knees and fighting with eachother to help me out as much as they could. No moose was to be had, but was that really the point this time around?  We spent three days at Mayo Lake in Northern Yukon at Shawn's trapping cabin, and I felt more at home than I have in months. My final night on the Lake, Shawn treated me to a "bush hot tub". With the waves pounding on the beach below, Shawn built a hot fire under an elevated cast iron tub that he keeps for the purpose. I spent a good hour sipping a "near beer" under a dark sky, soaking in the health of the previous days. Getting back to Whitehorse was a bit of a shock back to reality, since my Vancouver oncologist had contacted Meg asking us to get to the hospital for some intravenous hydration. My second round of chemo was for some reason pretty hard on my kidneys, and keeping well hydrated has become essential to my recovery from the treatments. After an overnight stay in hospital receiving saline solution, I got to spend our final day in Whitehorse at home, visiting briefly with some friends, and getting ready for our return to Vancouver. As our plane took off from the Whitehorse airport, and the sun hit the aspens one last time, it became clear that we weren't yet finished on the road that's been laid out before us. We hope to go back for another visit in early November, shortly before doctors won't allow Meg (at 8 months pregnant then) to fly.

 
Simon listening for the elusive beast. . . 

 
Mayo Lake on a still day

 
The boys glassing a hillside 

 
The cabin

 
The Yukon hot tub (the plywood protects yer butt from the heat!)

#2 The return of my appetite.

 I'm not going to lie to you here. My last two rounds of chemo have been rough compared to my first one, and unfortunately, seem to be getting progressively so. We're hoping to prove that trend wrong this coming Tuesday. As Meg mentioned in her last post, eating and drinking became somewhat of a chore during round three, and it was hard for her and my parents to watch me turn my head away from bowl after plate after mug of food and drink. We got through it OK, and my appetite is now back. Today is my first day of feeling relatively OK since treatment, and although we were considering a trip to Victoria to visit friends for Thanksgiving, in the end, we decided a restful weekend here in Vancouver might be a better idea. My parents were here for about a week, and it was good for them to see what my treatments look like, despite the appetite struggles and some general malaise on my part.

#3 Our support system.

 It seems we are never alone here on this road. My parents took over from Meg's last week, and were a great help to Meg and I while we stayed at the BCCA. It's always great to have people around who want to do whatever they can to make things easier. Our trip to Whitehorse also reminded us of the work that all of our friends and neighbours are doing up there for us, and we continue to receive love and support from our world in the form of emails, blog comments, cards, and packages every day. We also continue to feel your thoughts and prayers, good vibes, and of course, that kicking baby. Meg's brother Seamus is the latest supporter to make the journey here (all the way from the UK), and he'll be spending the week with us here while I undergo my fourth cycle of treatment.

My parents on a day out

#4 Shrinking tumours.

  It looks like my treatments are working - it's difficult to say how well until we get the results from my most recent and detailed MRI which happened on Friday - but it looks like the Methotrexate is doing a good smashy job. Some tumours appear to have disappeared, others are getting smaller, and some look like they've stayed relatively stable. We'll get to those in the next few rounds (tell your friends, tumours. . .)

#5 A healthy, loving wife and baby.

  The doctor says Meg's pregnancy is "textbook". All measurements and tests are about as normal as they can be, and Meg is feeling great. The baby is moving around like crazy, and I get to feel little kicks and punches and waves hello every day. For both of us, the realization came this week that Meg will at some point relatively soon become pretty uncomfortable. The focus has been so squarely on me for the past little while that sometimes we forget that we will soon become a pair of patients. Christmas should be interesting. Until then though,  I can't say enough how well Meg has taken care of me. It can't be easy watching someone you love in this situation, but like with most things, Meg has handled this with grace, humour, and beautiful strength. She makes me meals, keeps track of my medications, stands up to my doctors, wrangles guests, takes care of "real world" business, schedules appointments, makes sure that I get out and exercise, and does it all with glowing love, uncharacertistic patience, and a crackling wit that still never lets me take myself too seriously. I'm a lucky man.  

She treats me right. . . 

All in all, we've settled into some kind of treatment routine: one week in, one week out, with some appointments scattered throughout. As I've said, I seem to be feeling a bit worse as time goes on, but here's hoping that that plateaus sometime soon. We hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgivings wherever they may be, and know that we'll be thinking of you here in (still balmy) Vancouver. Love the people you're with.