Sunday, September 30, 2012

Here are some picture in bed!!  This is obviously Jon with the bed picture post!  The tray Laura is using Tim and I made last weekend for a bed desk.  Laura sometimes eats on it and plays with her ipad and reads with it.  I am sitting with Mia and looking out at the world from my thrown.  As all pets of mine tend to have, Mia has many names.  Today I started calling her Dr. Leslie Marie Trottenstien.  Why? Just cause that is how she wanted to be addressed today.  Sunny Sunday.  We did a family jog for 3 miles and Laura continued for another mile but the rest of us followed Mia home.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Swim caps

Yesterday at the pool I was afraid my hair was going to remain in my swim cap when I pulled it off.  I was not sure how I was going to handle it, since I had not prepared in any way for this possiblity.  It didn't happen, though my hair feels attached to me by very little, and every time I touch it a bunch comes right out in my hand.  Swim caps have a lot of "grab" to them and even when I am not having chemotherapy there is a fair amount of pulling.

I keep on thinking that today, or tomorrow, will be the day my hair is gone.  And I keep on keeping it for one more day.  Frankly, I am dreading the baldness.  Not for its own sake, but for its power to identify my illness to every person I see.  Up until now (thanks Daily Astorian) I simply have "health complications."

I also think that being bald will offer me some kind of grotesque milestone.  When I'm bald, this will be real, I will clearly be a cancer patient having chemo, and somehow, even though at this moment I am totally in it, at the point of baldness my in-it-ness will be somehow more fully confirmed.  Am I making too much of it?  Hard to say.  I have never been particularly vain about my hair or what I look like, but still I feel pretty challenged by this.

Actually what I think is I just need to get it over with, pass the milestone, and move on.  For today, I think I will bring a hat in my swim bag, in case I have to leave my hair in the trash can.

I had coffee with a friend/Knappa neighbor who heard I have breast cancer and reached out ( it turns out she dealt with breast cancer through last winter).  She pointed out that I have always hated and complained about my hair and when I get it back it will likely be somehow different.  I guess that will be interesting to see...  Enough about my stupid, ridiculous hair.

The Bridge Run is tomorrow and I am not running it.   I am thinking about dragging Tim to a local 5k
in a couple of weeks, depending on how I feel.  I'm glad there seem to be so many local events like this, so I can do last minute deciding, which is the only deciding I do now.  The rest of the fam is going to our last Timbers game tonight.  Matias will take my ticket.  I don't think there is any last minute scenario whereby I am attracted to standing for two or three hours and in line for general admission beforehand, at night after my witching hour of done-ness which seems to happen about four in the afternoon.  My plan is to take the long list of movies I have been wanting to see and see what I can get at the video store.  Very exciting, I know.

Wednesday, and another treatment, cannot come soon enough.  This weekend will go by slowly.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

The bull

I'm reading Cheryl Strayed's book "Wild."  If I were still a bookseller I would have read it a long time ago or, conversely, never read it because I don't have to convince anyone to buy it.  They already are. In any case, I am no longer a bookseller and I read what I feel like when I feel like, if I can remember   which books I am wanting to read on any given trip to library or bookstore.

I digress.  It's a compelling book, and there is a passage that really spoke to me last night, stretching a metaphor I'm sure, but whatever....  Here is is:

The thing about hiking the Pacfic Crest Trail, the thing that was so profound to me that summer - and yet also, like most things, so very simple - was how few choices I had and how often I had to do the thing I least wanted to do.  How there was no escape or denial.  No numbing it down...  I considered my options.  There were only two and they were essentially the same.  I could go back in the direction I had come from, or I could go forward in the direction I intended to go.  The bull, I acknowledged grimly, could be in either direction, since I hadn't seen where he'd run once I closed my eyes.  I could only choose between the bull that would take me back and the bull that would take me forward.
And so I walked on.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012


I have to take a time out from the all-about-me thing to say that the group of people that is my community is pretty stinking amazing.  Practically the minute I was diagnosed, Moria showed up with dinner two weeks in a row, then proceeded to organize a mindblowing calendar of dinner makers.  I continue to feel kind of stupid that all of these busy, working people are doing my cooking, and I suppose at this point I can probably get myself to cook, but I cannot overstate the morale boost these meals give to the family.

Like probably everyone in my situation, I never pictured myself on the receiving end of this kind of gesture.  Not that it wouldn't happen if need be, just that I of course did not have a picture in my mind of me, having chemotherapy, lying around underneath a small poodle for large swaths of the day.  Believe me, my year of unemployment last year did not involve watching tv during the day.  This year of unemployment looks a lot different.  And a lot of not spending my days screaming in frustration comes from accepting what I am doing now.  Acceptance is partly fueled by our friends' practical response.  Does that make sense?  If everyone else is just figuring out the best and most useful way to get us through this, then I guess by default I had better also.

So, leave it to me to overanalyze the dinner calendar to pieces, when my intention is just to say thanks, you are all amazing.

One week from today I get to have another chemo.  Yes, I am counting down the days.  Years and years of swimming a mile in the pool has me automatically segmenting the weeks.  18 weeks of chemo.  1800 yards.  As much as swimming, for me, is about an attempt to be present, it is sometimes    unavoidable doing the fraction thing.  200 yards down, 1/9 done.  Well, I am two weeks down and 1/9 done.  The beauty of this bizarre system lies in how quickly the fraction changes.  300 yards, 1/6 of a mile.  Three weeks will suddenly be 1/6 done.  Of course, this is all hopeful and assuming no delays.

 Today is a swim day, and the truth is my goal is always to can the fraction game and just acknowledge the lap I am on.  Seriously, as cheesy as this sounds, this is why I cannot live without swimming.

Monday, September 24, 2012


Well, Saturday I ran five miles, walked on the beach, dipped in the ocean... Sunday I woke up so dizzy and ill I basically stayed in bed until 2:00.  I think I was at Bowdoin after a hard, hard night the last time I might have stayed in bed that long, if I ever actually did.  Today I feel kind of normal.  I had a mile swim and some yoga, and walked the dog.

I don't think it's a matter of pacing.  The stuff I'm doing I'm doing in an extremely mellow way.  I am not getting my heart rate up at all, just in it for the movement and mind emptiness.  I don't think there's anything I can really do about one day being one thing and another being quite another.  Oh fucking well.

On another note:  my skin is turning chemo gray.  I feel as if I am now pale gray with dark gray circles underneath my eyes.  Not helping is the sudden acne breakout, bizarre mouth interior, and strange tingling fingers.  Pretty soon I expect I will be bald, to complete the picture.

Really, I'm not complaining, just reporting.  I am actually glad to feel as though there is something poisonous inside me.

On another, more cheery note:  my sainted husband snagged two tickets to see Bruce Springsteen in November, in Portland.  I then snagged a room at the highly upscale Hotel Monaco for said sacred night.  I suppose I might be dragging my exhausted ass there, hunched over in my bandana, clutching my bottle of Compazine and looking pathetic enough that the tall person in front of me sits down and lets me see, but I am still SOOOOOOOOOO PSYCHED.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

A half hour from our house.. Longest stretch of no rain I can remember.  And yes, Jon and I got in.


This neoadjuvant (fancy term for before surgery) chemotherapy is weird.  I completely get the logic of doing it this way, but walking around with my big mass of cancer for another five months or so is mentally taxing.  Actually, it should technically be getting smaller as the months go by, and maybe disappear altogether.  According to both Dr. Garreau (surgical oncologist) and Dr. Raish (medical oncologist), it is not totally uncommon after neoadjuvant chemotherapy to find no evidence of disease in the surgical biopsies.  This is called a complete pathologic response, and this is what I am hoping for.  If this happens I can skip the radiation chapter post surgery, and have a better chance of normal arm function.  My swimmer self really requires good use of my right arm.

Upon reflection I find that what I believe in strongly right now is science.  Developments during the last decade have made my particular variety of cancer curable.  Gene mapping in the last dozen years has made it possible to produce targeted therapies for several cancers, including some childhood cancers, with concrete results in the form of lives being lived.  Research is made possible, at least in part, by government prioritizing science, and education.  I would make an educated guess that the isolation of HER2 ( an important marker on my cancer, for which targeted, successful therapy is coursing through my veins) and subsequent development of said therapy, was at least partially funded by the NIH in the form of research grants.  I am also guessing that not everyone involved in this lifesaving breakthrough went to private schools paid for by wealthy families.  I imagine that some of these intelligent people went to public school.

So, I believe in science, government spending for the common good, and public school.  How this thought I had about how not having surgery right away makes me feel kind of filthy with cancer turned into a political rant, I do not know.  Oh well, my blog...  I get to say whatever I feel like.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Figured out the paragraph problem.  Triumph.
New developments... Here is my resignation from the school board. After spending an entire week worrying about whether I would feel ok to navigate the meeting last night, whether the shitty headache would resurface under the flourescent lights during what was probably a long meeting, I decided I would resign and let the district find a replacement who could actually attend meetings and participate. I did (jokingly, sort of) ask only that I not be replaced by a marching band parent... He he.  

 Dear Craig and Astoria School District Board,

 In light of some health issues I need to resign my position on the board.  I do not feel confident that I can fulfill the duties of the position, including time commitments and the focus on issues necessary to be a full contributor, at this time.  I thank you for the opportunity and consider the last seven years to have been a privilege.


 Laura Snyder

Today was the first day I did not go for a run. I dragged out the door and walked three miles in running clothes finally around one. It would have been a good day for the pool to be open. Monday cannot come soon enough (the end of the annual two-week maintenance closure). I was reminded this afternoon from my inner fog that it would probably be helpful to start practicing yoga regularly again. I am curious to see if daily practice will alleviate some fatigue and soreness. It can't hurt, so why not?

 I can't reiterate enough how ready I am to be in the pool. I think my hair is starting to fall out slowly. It may be by this time next week. Ani and Tim said they will do the scissor part when it is time, and the expert poodle groomer Jon can take care of the rest. Oh, and I was told the headaches are likely a side effect of the killer pre-chemo anti-nausea i.v. All in all I guess I vote for headaches over hurling... P.S. Does anyone know how to make paragraphs in blogger? The mushing together of my paragraphs is getting super annoying and I can't seem to fix it. It shows as paragraphs now, while I am typing, then not in the final published form. No emergency, just a huge pet peeve.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


Just saw the doctor.  All counts are good, platelets negligably low meaning not at all worrisome.  It is expected that if counts go low it would more likely be next week.  Have to wait and see.  Next chemo scheduled for October 3 in Astoria.  Barring health complications ( ha ha) it is a definite go.  I can't get the port put in until they have a full cycle of blood counts to look at so that will likely be after the next chemo.  I will call it worth it to have put it off and gotten that tri in.


People keep asking me how my cancer was discovered, whether I'd felt it myself, etc.  At the risk of writing far too much information for some of you, I will tell you about the "perfect storm"  of my discovery.  First, my right side has always been bigger than the left.  Second, I have been notoriously bumpy, ridgy, fibrous, dense, according to every mammographer and practitioner I have encountered.  Next, I had a benign cyst removed from the same spot where the tumor is now, causing me historically to feel a bit of a bump and scar tissue in that location.  Therein lies the perfect storm.  Oh, and being on the cusp of menopause, my parts have been doing all manner of strange things in the last year or so.  Add to this my history.  I had my first mammogram at 35 , as a baseline as my mother had breast cancer.  In the interim she was gene tested and found to be Brca 1 and 2 negative.  These are the known markers for breast cancer (to be sure, unknowns exist though).    This information led me to proceed as a normal risk.  I have had many mammograms.  AMA or whoever changed the recommendations for mammogram to beginning annually at age 50.  I am 49 .  So, I did in fact skip 2010 and 2011.  Mistake?  Maybe, but not something it is productive to revisit.

I felt what I know now is the main tumor, maybe in early August, in Maine.  I feel as well educated as I can be, and noted that what I felt seemed par for the course for me, if a little large.  It moved, as the breast exam pamphlets tell you that the nonscary lumps do.  In any case, I knew my annual exam was the week after we came home, so I addressed it then.  I had a mammogram and here I am today, not a month later, having had more medical procdures done to me than I've ever had in my life, willing my new allies in the form of liquid poisons to flow through my body and do their work.

There is no moral here, or advice about when or how many mammograms to have.  I do not know and never will whether my cancer have shown on one a year ago.  Nor is this a productive question at this point.  There is any amount of conflicting opinions about how to go about caring for yourself and finding potential problems.  All a person can do is their best, I guess.  A lot of people are going to get cancer.  So, really it should not be all that surprising when it happens.  There is no free pass for fit, healthy people who eat a relatively healthy diet.

Again, at the risk of TMI, I hope this answers some questions about my particular experience.  I suppose you could talk to 100  more women and hear 100 different stories.  I am going to get out of bed  now and jog the poodle.  Daily ritual.
Jon here: I had a request this morning for more pictures so here is something completely different from this weekend:

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Jon Here:  The dinners from others have started!  Ani mentioned that at least it is great to get good food that I am not totally bored of and that you too cook all the time!!!  We are so appreciative of the kindness of our community for the wonderful dinners and it really is fun to eat food that we don't cook all the time!

Laura says her hair feels really strange.  Yesterday she said it felt dead and today she said it was just hanging there and she thinks it will fall off any day...  We see her medical oncologist tomorrow and look at her blood counts.  Hopefully they are good.  Laura's hope is to get a port put in before the next chemo but we will see.

If clouds made it feel like fall.  The relative quiet in the house is odd without that wretched bird.  Thanks to all for your positive thoughts and good wishes!
Well, if it weren't for the constant medium to bad headache (at times aching all the way in my teeth) I would be out of bed by now.  As it is, the poodle and I are still in bed, me with broth, tea, and the ipad, and hugely, without a small parrot strategizing for position as close to me as possible.  Sad as it is to give away a pet the quiet and peace in this space right now is not something I've experienced in years and years.  As many dogs as we've had, none have taken up the psychic space of a highly intelligent small parrot, or as my cousin called him, my winged nemesis.  Jon is sad to see Frodo go, but sent him to his new digs in full understanding of the necessity and future quality of life around here, with a wife not stalked, obsessed on, followed, crawled on, crapped on, etc.....

I talked to a friend last night from college that went through this (breast cancer, that is, not obsessed parrot ownership) a full twelve years ago at age 38.  Her kids were 6 and 9 at the time.   It was really really good to talk, to know that she is still here, with one kid in college and one in high school, and she is here to go looking at colleges, worry about her son out with the car, and all the other stuff of life.

I suppose the more I am in this world, the more people I will encounter that have also had cancer, which makes sense since I think the numbers are 1 in 3 for cancer in general and 1 in 8 for breast cancer.  I am not looking forward to the impending baldness, at which time I will visually become an object of sad looks with my universal cancer patient pate.  Ani thinks I should get a flowing blonde wig like the hot coach's wife on Friday Night Lights.

Monday, September 17, 2012

First- I think I have successfully turned comments on.  You should be able to write a comment and then use the pull down menu to put anonymous and then the comments should be published!!!

Second- Happy 18th Anniversary Honey!!!  I love you!

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Jon here: This morning Laura woke up and said,"you stink! I sure hope this isnt my new chemo nose..."

cancer- this is a word that wreaks havoc with us as humans.  It is the fight that many dont survive from, but our doctors and everything we read tells us that Laura will be fine cause the chemo is so dialed in.  The emotion vs. intellectual battle is crazy.  While I know in my soul that Laura will be fine, the sad puppy dog looks our friends give me reminds me that cancer is so scary.  It is so hard to talk about but for some reason I can hit the keys of the computer and say stuff like this... And now for something completely different:

We have been busy today.  I road my bike to town and friends to pick up soup from Ami and Jeremy as well as tons of veggies and a chicken for a magic broth that Jim drank and loved while doing chemotherapy.

Laura harvested a bunch of green beans and Ani snapped them and drove to the store for fresh dill and I processed them.  Here are pictures...

This is the web site for the magic Broth.  We added a whole chicken to the recipy like Terry said!  Dont know if it will show casue blogspot can be frustrating!
Still not suffering too terribly. Walked with Ani and Mia, ran with Taeryn, picked the rest of the green beans outside, hung laundry on the line. I hope they gave me actual poison. The bags all had scary names on them. It is really a nice day here. Make-up summer for the gray one we had.
Jon: Since Frodo leaves tomorrow after work and I start cleaning up bird poop throughout the house tomorrow night, I thought I would film a bit of Dodi in the morning. Here is Frodo the green bird! On the chemo side of life, Laura is doing well today!!!!! She had a little lie around feeling icky after her shot yesterday. A bit of nausa at nightfall but her pill worked well and so far today all is well. Mia and Ani who has a terrible cold and Laura walked the 3 mile loop this morning and Taryn is heading over to run Laura in a bit... That is what I know!

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Jon here: This is a pic of coffee in bed this morning. We tend to have Princes Mia, Frodo and the kids hang out in and around the bed for long periods of time. The plus side of cancer for Laura is I have found a home for Frodo. This is his last weekend with us. I take him to his new family on Monday after work. Laura does not need to be pooped on and screamed at while going through chemo. Laura, Tim, Mia and I ran 4 miles this morning and then Laura continued another mile just cause! After returning and having her glass of "emergen C" vitamin juice she said wow this tastes totally different!!! Chemo! Laura is doing great. We will watch the Portland Timbers on tv today at 1230 and then she goes to Columbia Memorial for her shot to help with keeping blood levels good! I know I am writing too much on here and you probably dont want to know every single thing we are doing but such is life!

Random cancer

I just returned from an easy and pleasurable 5 or so mile run, maybe just under. I've had my vitals taken countless times in the last couple of weeks. My blood pressure was its usual 100/60. My pulse was a respectable (I'm no Bjorn Borg, but still) 60 ish, and my oxygenation was 100%. The nurse was shocked by this and said she could not remember the last time she saw that. I am extremely fit, and have always been the one person in my house that doesn't catch the colds,cruds, and most of the flus, regardless of the fact that I don't get flu shots and have been taking immunosuppressants for RA for the last six years. And... I seem to have cancer. I don't know what the point of all this is, except that you just never fucking know what's next. I was shocked to find out, though not alltogether surprised, as so many people end up with it. All I can say is I am totally happy (if that is possible) that it is me and not one of my kids. Our friends and community have had far too much experience with this. There is nothing to compare and nothing as awful. And I'm happy it is a common breast cancer and not something rare and unstudied. That said, I am no pollyanna, and don't get me wrong - it sucks beyond belief. But there is nothing to do but deal with it.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Laura opened up to the chemo!!! she is amazing!

One down...

Home and walked the dog. I am thinking Atavan will be my friend... The whole experience was pretty mellowed by that one little pill. I had i v infusions for about 3.5 hours, with Jon for company. He ventured out for gluten free pizza and cupcakes from our favorite bakery, which hit the spot. It was fairly uneventful, though I imagine that as the next several days go by I will be feeling it big time. I am oddly very happy to have toxic poisons coursing through my veins and body, killing stuff. I guess that is my new cancer self. Kill kill kill. I will probably be bald within the next two weeks or so, so that should be interesting. Goodbye dry, brittle pool hair.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Jon writing: I never thought I would say I am excited that Laura is starting chemotherapy this week, but I am! The waiting and doing nothing and waiting for appointments and results is brutal. Laura is starting a three chemical mix of chemo this Friday Sept. 14th in Portland. She has to go to Portland this week because our medical oncologist is only in Astoria Tuesday and Wednesday every week. The plan is to then switch to Wednesdays for chemo in Astoria. She will be getting chemo every 3 weeks for 18 weeks or a total of 6 doses. The drugs: she is getting Taxotere, Carboplatin and Herceptin. Then the day after chemo she will get another shot of Neulasta which is not a chemo drug but to help with various side affects I believe. Then her Herceptin will continue every 3 weeks for and additional 11 doses. Herceptin is to fight her type of breast cancer which is HER2 Positive (3+). The good thing about chemo first is that it is a systemic treatment which will kill and destroy any cells or tiny masses that have moved throughout the body. HER2 positive cancer is much more likely to be invasive to other body parts than other types of breast cancer, but herceptin is very effective in destroying it. Herceptin has only been available for about ten years so we are very thankful that it is available now! Tomorrow, Laura goes to Columbia Memorial Hospital in Astoria and gets an echocardiogram. With 4% of patients, herceptin can have negative effects for the heart so they need a baseline on Laura who is incredibly fit. We went out to dinner since we didn’t get home till six. At dinner, Tim said that breast cancer used to be one of the most dangerous and deadly cancers for women. We looked at him in awe. He said ya, I learned that from South Park! South Park also said that there had been a lot of recent research and it is much more controllable than 30 years ago…
This courtesy of Terry....................

 The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.


Saturday, September 8, 2012

True to predictions: Ani beat me and a lot of other people too. She won her age group (13-25) and placed second in the women. I managed to get 3rd place medal in my horrific age group of 26-49 (a bad group as I'm 49). I am pretty proud of Ani. She hasn't run any distance in over a year, having had her back injury last summer and surgery in March. She has done such an amazing thing taking care of herself, staying fit then getting fit all over again, taking up swimming and cycling, and now finally being able to compete in something again.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Hi, I love my medical group. The scans are already done, and Dr. Garreau has already called. Mostly good news - bones all clean and organs all clean except one 4mm unknown spot in a lung. Dr. Garreau said that many people have random things in their bodies. it is likely a granuloma, which is a nothing. It would not be picked up on a pet scan and is likely too small to biopsy. If it is part of the cancer it will go away with the chemo that starts next week. If it does not change with chemo while the tumor in the breast shrinks then it is a granuloma and nothing to worry about. They may scan it later on but it does not change the plan and she thinks the scan news is very good news. I seem to be the only person involved that was sure my entire body had been overtaken by cancer. So my phantom tumor pains seem to be phantoms. Tomorrow the plan remains to have my ass kicked by Ani in the local mini triathlon, as I have been predicting, and I may force Tim to run a 5k race with me Sunday morning.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Hi. This is Jon. We both will be posting here. I am posting some technical stuff in case anyone wants to know it. Laura had several biopsies last Tuesday Aug 28th. We got the results the following Friday. She has both in situ ductal carcinoma and invasive ductal carcinoma in her right breast and in at least one lymph node. The MRI, mammogram and ultra sound showed cancer spread throughout her right breast. These biopsies are also tested for 4 different things to help determine what type of cancer it is and which chemotherapy will be most effective. The results of these are as follows but I am sorry I do not have the report in front of me and there definitely will be spelling issues: ER Positive 25% (Mildly positive is what our surgical oncologist said) PR negative Ki67 LOW 10% HER2 Positive Her2 shows how aggressive the cancer is. This is an aggressive cancer, but I want to say what our first surgical oncologist said,"This is garden variety breast cancer. We know how to treat it and the chemo is very well dialed in." I am very optimistic that in a year or 18 months we will be back to living the life we planned on. It is also my job to be optimistic! Off to Portland tomorrow with the whole family for imagine and scans.
Hi, We went to Legacy Medical Center in Portland for a second opinion yesterday on the advice of a colleague of Jon's who just went through this same thing. We liked them a lot and have decided to stay with them. I don't know what I would do without my cousin Deb, who gave us a pretty good short course on how to choose a provider and we think this is a home run. (Deb, more on that later!) We are moving quickly into next phases, with scans tomorrow. The oncologist Dr. Garreau recommended comes to Astoria so I should be able to have my chemo out here, which will be easier. I see him on Wednesday next week. As much as each day it feels to me like I am growing fucking giant tumors all over me, Dr. Garreau said this week will not change anything medical going on inside me, and is not an unreasonable timeline for getting started. It's possible I will start chemo as soon as end of next week, probably for 4 months, every two weeks. The up side of the timeline is I get to do the little triathlon Ani and I are signed up for on Saturday. So she can still kick my ass, which is the prediction... After that, surgery and probably a boob job to top it all off at the end. Chemo first may eliminate the need for radiation if I'm lucky. So I am looking at dealing with this I'm guessing until at least next summer or maybe through next summer. You can check this any time and we thought it would be a lot easier to explain things once instead of spending hours on the phone and fishing for people's emails, which is what we have been doing so far. Feel free to call or email, or text. Email works best probably: lsnyder613 at Jon and I appreciate your support and love. I am not a person who likes attention. I never have been. So, this is a challenge on more levels than having fucking cancer, which is big enough, I guess. Love, Laura