I forgot he had cancer.

Do ya'll know about the redneck pool? The pvc paradise? The oval oasis?
It's one of those mildly embarrassing above ground numbers that has poles and a werbely ladder that you have to check your pride to put in your yard things that you find in the big box at your favorite discount retailer. You've looked at them.

It's for us who can't afford the in-ground options. For those of us who want a vat of chlorinated water to bathe our kids in during the summer so we won't have to stoop over the bathtub. It's for me.

Mom and Dad have stepped over the 'us n them' line and dug a hole in the backyard. So... natch, I called dibs on the redneck pool.

Now, how is lil' ol ME gonna get that big old pool out of the garage and 200 miles north to MY yard???? Ask Dad.

Mom said it might be too heavy, as the sand filter alone weighs 400 pounds. She thought he might not want to do it, and maybe I'd have to settle for the smaller 12 foot pvc paradise instead ( yeah, they have two.)

Well why would Dad not feel like hauling this thing up a hill and into a truck and driving it to my house? That would be weird.

It'll be here in a couple of hours. Ha! I forgot he had freakin' cancer. So does he, he says. Especially with Avastin/Interferon, he feels good. With Sutent, he had his calendar of symptoms to look forward to. Right now, all he's looking forward to unloading the 400 lb sand filter.
If he's not going to play up the cancer card, neither. am. I.

Now imagine me floating on my back spitting water into the air like a fountain. In a tank top and cutoffs. Don't spill my drank! That's how rednecks swim.

60 days on Avastin

Hellew there.
Dad got scans this week after 60 days on Avastin and Interferon. I don't know why I can't get as excited about This combo as my old friend Sutent. She's performing well... She shrank or stabilized all the current metastases, and she apparently needs a cumulative effect for her best result...and her side effects are lots more tolerable than sutent's.... I guess I should give her a better rap. She's alright, Avastin with Interferon,she'll grow on me.
From what I can tell, worst side effects are nose bleeds and headaches. I really need to improve the umph of this post. I'm coming across crabby.
We did get a really really detailed report from the radiologist. We love details and graphs and this report had lots of those. It talked about all Dad's innards in great detail, which is strangely fascinating for me to read.
So, though I'm dull, the remarkable piece of information that you should take from this post is that we still have stability. Maybe we're getting used to stability and forgetting that stability in itself almost two years out is not unheard of, but still great. Nothing to be dull about. So sorry, Avastin/interferon, we don't care that you got an A. And now I directly quote my mother: "Good grades aren't rewarded, they're expected.". Fall of 1989.

I expect much,
E

Tile Party

I'm sitting in the atrium of Ceasar's Palace, here since 6:30 Vegas time, afflicted with a case of the grownupness- my body so used to Fayetteville time and the inconceivability of snoozing past 8am. I've enjoyed 8 dollars worth of coffee AND figured out how to post to the blog via email, via my crap iPhone. This iPhone I used to call my wizard is now dead to me. I've seen the other side....the pretty green grass yonder.... THE iPAD 2.

First things first. We arrived in Vegas on Sunday afternoon. We promptly took the worst smelling cab Vegas had to offer to the hotel, and had an awkward check in as two young women and a white-haired gentleman with money.

Even more awkward was when Rach asked if our room could have one king bed instead of two beds because were sisters and we used to sleep in the same bed a long long time ago and then we got married and our husbands told us it was weird to want to sleep in the same bed as your sister on vacation instead of with your husband so in an act of rebellion and just because we want to, could we just have one bed instead of two???? The nice man just said " so a king non smoking for you, sir... And a king non smoking for you two ladies.". We all nodded and smiled.

We then embarked on our journey to find the sands convention center ( maybe half a mile the way the crow flies) . It took us a good hour lost in casinos, 15 dollars in monorail tickets, a northbound monorail mutiny in favor of the southbound train instead "Dad! Hurry! get off get off! No! Wait! No! Stay on! Stay on! Wait.... I don't know!", and a favor from a man on an all-terrain vehicle(twice!), we made it.

After the journey we find out that the rumor amongst the tile world is that "the guy that rented that space" is either (1) dead, or (2) had some kidney problems, so they brought a forklift and took away all the materials he had shipped here in a cargo freight palate box and put it somewhere in the 1 million square foot Sands Convention Center.

So dad did a little tap dance to prove that he is, in fact, alive.... They found his palate, an we got busy setting up our display. He did not have to submit a urine sample to prove his kidney function, and we are thankful.
People from all over are coming to see Dad, remarking on his beautiful daughters, and give him manly handshakes with half-hug pats telling him, genuinely, that they're glad to see him.

Back to business...Dad's been hauling around this ugly heavy laptop in an even uglier attaché. Aaa taaaaa shey.
We have smoothly convinced him that he needs an iPad. Handily, there's an Apple store in our hotel?! Wow! We...., I mean he, bought himself a fancy little first generation iPad last night. We're going to play with his today and convince him to buy three more.....
He wants to buy three more, he just needs to know it's ok. Oh, it's juuuuuust fine.

We're having a good time. Not just because Dad is buying us dinner and teasing us with the faint possibility of iPads... just because we're having a good time.

Sent from my iPhone(crap)