So Mr. Hare and Mr. Tortoise agree to a race. The other animals all gather round to watch one fine morning, and the set off for the stream to-
Wait. What?
Why?! Why on Earth would a tortoise agree to a race with a hare? Sure, the stories say he was tired of Hare's bragging, or he had nothing better to do, but really... why?
The Hare and the Tortoise is probably one of the most common tropes invoked in fighting a terrifying disease; slow and steady wins the race. Diagnosis takes time, finding a treatment takes time, treatment itself takes time, and time is something you are acutely aware of every second that you're fighting. It's like a knife fight in molasses, fought blindfolded against an opponent who shares none of your handicaps, being told by an announcer how you're doing every thirty seconds or so.
It sucks.
So... why did Tortoise race Hare?
Because Mr. Fox said he would eat him if he didn't. And also if he lost. And maybe at some point down the road if he was hungry anyway.
Mr. Tortoise ran the race because he had no choice.
And every single slow, agonizing step, Mr. Tortoise was thinking, This sucks... this is so bloody hard... why do I have to do this? Look at Hare... he's so far ahead, I'm not going to make it…
And it's true. By the time you start your race, cancer is so far ahead most of the time, that you can feel Mr. Fox behind you, close you can feel his breath on your neck, a constant unlovely presence in your life, a grandfather clock tick counting off the seconds.
Mortality isn't the biggest fear; it's not having enough time.
So I'm sure you can all see why I talk about this, but just to hammer the point home; we're only about seven weeks into this treatment, and we have a long way to go. Hare seems to have an insurmountable lead, and we're trying to get caught up while Kim's doctors figure out how to put the damned hare to sleep for a while so she can catch up and pass it on the roadside.
So, how are we doing? Slow and steady wins the race.
As I mentioned in my last diary, it's the usual mixed bag. From a health standpoint, Kim's pretty fragile right now. She has a stomach bug that waxes and wanes, taking her from "okay" to "totally unable to move" over the course of a few hours and then back again. She's improving slowly, but it's going to be a while before she's "better".
As for the "little bitch" (as she affectionately calls her cancer) things are plodding along, which is good news. Her progress is still steady, her markers are in decent shape, no unusual spikes, RBC low but within range, WBC low but not worryingly so. Kim's starting to enter the midsection phase; the one where you begin to hope you may see the other side of this (but not too loudly) but on the other hand you really, really wish it could just happen a little bit faster. Frustration is the name of the game right now, and it's a bugger.
She's also beginning work with another chemo drug - I can't recall the name (I have simply got to start sleeping at some point, right? Right?) The good news is there's nothing terrible showing up to prompt this, and it's low-dose. Basically it's a little "relief pitcher" to go in and help with the big boys, so now chemo is Tuesdays and Thursdays.
So, I guess that's another "no news is good news" non-update update. The idea of the Hare and the Tortoise came to me last night and I thought I'd share it with you all, whether you like it or not!
Now the plea part: (for those following along, you know I hate this bit. It goes against everything in me, but necessity is not only the mother of invention, she's the big sister of swallowing your pride and the aunt of doing things you never thought or expected you would ever have to do).
Our GoFundMe Campaign is doing really well. We're currently over half way there now, having raised $1260 of our $2500 goal, plus another $100 on our PayPal (churlygurl at gmail dot com) for a total of $1360, leaving just $1140 to raise!
We simply cannot begin to thank everyone for everything they have done for us already. We have no right to ask, less to expect anything, and nothing but dumbfounded, humble respect and love for everyone who has helped. I try to thank each and every one of you through the GoFundMe "Thank" function, but even that doesn't feel like enough. So, to everyone who has donated, Tweeted, shared, accosted strangers on the street, yelled, tipped and recc'd, organized, sent love, healing energy, prayers, recipes, cat pictures, PMs, DMs, or comments, all we can say is:
THANK YOU!!
Words are just not enough, but right now it's all we have.
That, and a hard shell.
Take care, all.
Callum and Kim. ❤
Little Update [4:35om Central]
Kim and I are heading up to Siteman in an hour or so for a Doppler on her arm, neck and leg. She's had some numbness there over the last few months, and while the scans didn't show anything of immediate concern, they want to image the blood flow to cover the bases. It's probably nothing, but they want to rule out stuff now, just in case. We'll be back about 9pm or so. Wish us luck!