One month after chemotherapy and... ... I have begun to grow "peach fuzz" on my head. It is like fine baby hair that is standing up on end - and it is WHITE (uh oh). Really hoping my dark hair will wake up soon and make an appearance. (Pete keeps asking me why I am concerned about this - "What's wrong with white hair?"he wants to know). Perhaps a few of you ladies could explain it to him. ...I have developed neuropathy in my hands and feet. This is nerve damage from the chemotherapy, and it is like a constant tingling/burning sensation. My feet in particular are affected, and quite sensitive and painful if I am on them too much. I am not able to go stocking foot, and have to have a good pair of running shoes on all the time, to give my feet support. There is no treatment for this, just painkillers to make life a bit easier. I am told this will fade over time as my nerves begin to regenerate themselves, but there is no set timetable for this healing, either. So a bit of patience is required on my part. In the meantime, I move slowly and hobble around like an old woman sometimes, but it does feel good to begin to MOVE again even if my feet are sore. ...my energy is coming back, and I can be more active. It's so great to not be chained to the chair in the living room anymore. (Sam disagrees with this, of course.) It will take time before I can say I am back to full speed, as the fatigue is hard to shake off. But it's getting better, and that is wonderful. ...I begin radiation therapy shortly - as in this week! Radiation involves 4 weeks of daily 30 minute hospital visits. Side effects involve increasing levels of fatigue, and perhaps a bit of sore skin. Folks who have undergone this therapy tell me it is much easier to manage than chemo, which is good news indeed. Pete and I continue to be blessed and humbled by the continuing love and support of family, friends and our church community. The hardships and challenges of this journey have been softened by the outpouring of encouragement, prayers and visits. This has made our experience with cancer richer, and a reminder that we do not walk this difficult pathway alone. Thank you so much for joining us and supporting us. The result, as you can see, is that we can still experience joy and laughter in the midst of the mess (as the picture demonstrates).

As we head into the next phase of treatment, both Pete and I can agree with the psalmist when he declares the following: Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him. (Psalm 28:6-7)