Warning:  I have nothing profound to say... just figured I’d take a few minutes to chat at every one and update you on life. :)   I’m sitting in an armchair at Miss Sue’s house, being laughed at by my sister... and laughing at her in return.   Truly laughter is good medicine.   If you all haven’t checked out her blog at www.theinvisiblereality.blogspot.com, you really should.   She’ll make you laugh too!    She’s so graciously offered to stay with Nathan, the children, and I as long as we need her.   How blessed we are!                                   

At this point in life, humor is essential.   We tried on some wigs this evening, and tomorrow I have an appointment at the hospital for a wig fitting.   It seems that my current head of hair is planning it’s exit!    I don’t think it will happen immediately, but I am starting to loose it... not in chunks yet, but it’s definitely thinning.   It’s a weird feeling, and I’m not exactly convinced that I’ll be cute bald, but I don’t think I’m grieving it too much.   First of all, I’m pretty well convinced it will grow back.   Secondly, I’ve heard it comes back different sometimes, and after a lifetime of brown and straight I’m putting in an order for red curls.   Thirdly, the wig magazine I was checking out says, “Wigs always look good, and require almost no effort.   There are no more bad hair days!”   As a Mommy of small folks who’s had her share of bad hair days, that sounds like fun. :)   Besides, I like hats and scarves!                                   

I met with my oncologist today, and overall I felt pretty encouraged.   So many people have been asking me what stage my cancer is, and I asked him about that.   They had been waiting to get all of my tests back before it could actually be staged.   He told me today that it is stage three, and I had previously been told it is also grade three.   I know that isn’t very good, but I also know that God is able to handle whatever it is that this cancer is throwing at me.                          

I haven’t asked for any statistics as far as survival rate, etc.   I don’t think I want to know!   I guess that for me it is a personal journey that the Lord is leading me through.   I feel that percentages have little to do with my chance of living through this.   I guess I’ll lean on the mercy of God and the prayers of my friends and family more than numbers of what has happened to others.                The very exciting news that we received today is that as long as I tolerate tomorrow’s herceptin treatment well, and the following week’s full chemo dose, we will be able to go home to Nome!   I will still have to come to Anchorage for each of my chemo treatments, but that should only be for two or three days out of every three weeks.   I am so grateful and thrilled at the thought!   We’re not sure what all of the weeks ahead will hold, but after my treatment on the 22nd, we’ll be looking to head back.   I know that we’ll still have more doctor’s visits, etc. so I’m not exactly sure when.             

Our time here at Miss Sue’s house has been so blessed.   Over the weekend when my cells were really low, I was able to just get a lot of rest, sometimes just sitting outside in the sun, surrounded by trees.    This morning I felt strong enough to walk with my Mom, and we were just surrounded by beauty and wildflowers everywhere.   The wildflowers in Alaska are amazing!                  

Miss Sue (as the children call her) has been gone for the week visiting family, and we were expecting her home soon.   Mom talked to her this morning and found her at the airport, not headed to Alaska, but to be with her daughter’s family in the lower 48.   It seems her daughter is very sick, she’s contracted meningitis, but they aren’t sure exactly what kind.   She is in the hospital, and they’re treating it heavily until they know for sure, and Miss Sue is going to help care for the children.   Her daughter’s name is Angie, and I know that they would all be so grateful for your prayers as well.   Sue has so blessed us with selflessly opening her home to us, and our hearts have been so burdened for her today.                      

Well, it’s late, and I hear a little man squaking for his mommy upstairs.   What a joy it is to see little Caleb’s thin cheeks filling out, and to see the children just delighting in him.   Whenever Wesley sees him, he starts desperately signing “please.”    It’s his way of asking you to put the baby down close to him, where he usually says in a very well pleased tone, “Baby.”   Okay, so it’s lots cuter in reality than in type, but trust me, it’s cute!                 

Thanks for reading my ramblings, and for caring enough about our family to share in this process with us.   The love and support of strangers and friends alike have been a life line for us.   Thank you!