My SCT Plan!!

Alright, big day for me today at Emory Winship Cancer Institute! It went like this:

Lorraine and I met with Dr. Nadia, the radiation oncologist, who detailed my upcoming radiation treatment. Dr. Nadia, at Emory, is the one who’s recommending my treatment; she will contact a local radiation oncologist who will deliver my actual treatment, she’ll facilitate a meeting with them next week, and discuss my recommended treatment with them within the context of my transplant at Emory. She says that this is not at all uncommon and the local radiation oncologists are quite cooperative in agreeing with the recommended treatment. I will have 2 ½ weeks of radiation, to begin September 18th, after collection has been completed the week before. After we discussed my grave concerns over radiating any portion of my esophagus because of my already significant risk of developing esophageal cancer, she concluded that the best course of action will be to avoid it as much as possible and also to reduce by a small amount the amount of radiation delivered each day. They’ll also try to avoid my thyroid. Both my esophagus and thyroid will both still get some degree of radiation, so I still run the risk of developing hypothyroidism and also sustaining the (for me) bad effects of radiation to my esophagus. We’ll just do the best we can. Can’t ask for more than that, right?

Following were a chest X-ray; extensive lab tests (about 10 vials of blood, drawn painfully and after several attempts peripherally, rather than from my port as the heparin can skew the results;) and a urine analysis.

Then I met with my oncologist, Dr. Waller; my transplant coordinator nurse, Jeanie; and my pre-transplant social worker, Ali. We talked about the timeline and plan for upcoming treatment, he reviewed my negative PET and good-as-it-can-be prognosis and associated risks, and we confirmed that Lorraine and I are prepared for what lies ahead. He answered all of my questions, even printing out a study I’d asked about which compared PET negative results to PET positive results going into the transplant.

Here’s the timeline:
o Week 9/4 – 9/10: Meet with local radiation oncologist to discuss upcoming treatment
o 9/8 – 9/11: Give myself Neupogen shots twice a day for mobilization (to increase stem cell production)
o 9/10: Go to hotel near Emory
o 9/11: 6:30 a.m. – Labs; 7:30 a.m. neck catheter implantation surgery; 10:00 p.m. – AMD3100 shot given to me in hotel by visiting nurse
o 9/12: 7:30 a.m. – Stem cell collection begins – to be repeated daily, up to 4 days, until 5 million cells are collected
o 9/18 – 9/22: Radiation Monday through Friday
o 9/25 – 9/29: Radiation Monday through Friday
o 10/2 – 10/4: Radiation Monday through Wednesday
o 10/10: Picc line implantation surgery; admitted to hospital for high dose chemo and transplant, to stay in for about a month

So that’s the plan! I feel better now that I have some dates, and I’m really just so pleased to have this team of experts supporting me and working to get me well.

The Plan...and the Reward

I'm getting closer to a plan, now, and I'm feeling good about it. This week I'll meet with my primary transplant oncologist, Dr. Waller, as well as the radiation oncologist at Emory who will be overseeing my pre-transplant radiation treatment. Dr. Waller will go over the risks of this procedure, get my consent, and go over the overall plan for my treatment. The radiation oncologist will review her recommended treatment and answer my radiation-related questions, and then we'll talk about coordinating her referral to a local radiation onc for treatment delivery near my home.

In order to participate in the AMD3100 study, I have to wait one full month after the day of my last chemo treatment (August 8th) before they can collect my cells, so that puts us into early September. I'll start giving myself Neupogen shots twice a day on Friday, 9/8, in preparation for collection on the 12th. Neupogen puts the bone marrow into overdrive, hopefully producing all the stem cells I need for the transplant. The goal is 5,000,000.

Lorraine, Louie (arf!) and I will check into the hotel Sunday evening so we don't have to fight traffic early Monday morning to get to Emory at 7:30 Monday morning for the implantation of my temporary neck catheter, which will remain in place for the duration of stem cell collection.

Monday morning I'll have the catheter put in, take pain med's Monday afternoon (apparently the location of the catheter on the side of the neck can be painful,) and then a visiting nurse will come to the hotel at 10:00 p.m. to give me the AMD3100 shot. AMD3100 apparently assists a great deal with collection, because it sort of "fills up all the seats" in the marrow, forcing all those Neupogen-generated stem cells into the blood stream so they're more accessible for collection.

Tuesday morning I'll report to the hemapheresis ward at 7:30 with the goal to collect as many stem cells as possible! I'll finish around 1:30-2:30, head back to the hotel, and we'll hear that evening how we did. (My cells will have been turned over to the lab for counting before freezing, so we'll have a count at the end of the day.) Some people can get all 5 million collected in one day; others can take up to four days. Then there are those who's marrow has been so affected by the chemo they've had (as well as other contributing factors) that they simply can't produce the full 5 million. The hotel is booked through Friday, just in case. If I can't produce the 5 mill, we'll still move forward, as I explained in the last post.

Each day I'll arrive and leave around the same time, and each evening we'll get a status report...until we get the word that we've done it!! Then I'll go back in the next morning and they'll remove the neck catheter and we'll get to go home.

The following week I'll start radiation. I don't know yet how many weeks I'll get it, but it will be 5 days/week. Compared to chemo, radiation is apparently a breeze. Side effects will depend on exactly which area they radiate, but at the least I should expect fatigue and skin soreness and dryness. I'll get a prescription for a special cream to deal with the skin issues. If they radiate my mouth and/or throat, I'll have some other issues to deal with, but I'm not sure yet if that will occur. I'm hoping they can just radiate that clavicle only, without touching my mouth, esophagus, or thyroid. That would be wonderful!!

Radiation will be anywhere from 2-4 weeks, and then I'll go in for high dose chemo and the transplant immediately afterwards. I expect to be hospitalized for the month of October, pretty much. If I can get my counts up and get released sooner, GREAT!, but I'm going into it expecting a full month -- 6 days of high dose chemo, followed by 3 weeks for the transplant and its aftermath.

So that's the plan!

In other news, Lorraine and I are planning a 2-week trip to Italy next spring to celebrate!! My Christmas present of 2004 was a trip to Italy to commemorate my having beaten cancer -- I was diagnosed 12/17/04, so under the tree I found a beautiful book of photographs of Italy, and the second half of that present was to go to Italy after we'd put cancer behind us. Well, after I finished treatment for Round I last June, we'd made up our minds that we were going to move from our Baltimore townhome, so we put the Italy trip on the shelf. Well Lorraine has made up her mind that we need to go next spring -- and I am so excited!! Some of you may know that I used to live in Italy, so I intend to brush up on my Italian -- the plan (as of tonight, anyway!) is to go to the Amalfi coast, Venice, and Florence (where I lived.) We're going to rent a car and just tool around the countryside, enjoying ourselves. Now how exciting is THAT?? Aside from the gift of life....that's a hell of a carrot!

No Evidence of Disease!!

Can you freaking believe it??? My PET of yesterday came back completely clean!! No evidence whatsoever of disease!!! Amazing. So now they're talking about whether or not to give me radiation before the transplant. At this point, I'd probably be more comfortable with a bit of it at least, since I still have this 2.3 x 2.9 cm thingamajig around/below my clavicle. I dunno. I'll leave that to the experts, and listen carefully to the pro's and con's as they state them. I'm just so, so happy I've been fortunate enought to have gotten to remission prior to the transplant....what a gift.

The last two days have been so HECTIC!! Tuesday was a 10- hour day (not including the commute) which included blood and urine tests, a pulmonary function test, a bone marrow biopsy (they just do a single one in the case of an HD relapse, interestingly), a check-up with the nurse practioner, a meeting with my transplant coordinator nurse, and a psych/social worker eval for Lorraine and me (in this one I didn't like the question, "And what if this doesn't work?" Not fond of that one at all. I just replied, "I don't know." Then I cried. Bleh.)

Yesterday was a 9-hour day which included a PET/CT, a hemapheresis orientation in which Lorraine and I got to see the apheresis machine and ward and hear about the process, an EKG, and an echocardiogram with contrast.

These two days just totally took it out of me. Just so, so draining....I don't have the stamina that I used to yet, apparently. Also it's official: my veins are SHOT. They have so much trouble finding usable veins, it ends up being very painful.

Speaking of veins and accessing, I'm going to get a temporary catheter in my neck (yes, neck!) just for collection, and they'll remove it immediately right in the apheresis ward as soon as it's official that they've collected enough. Because I'm participating in this AMD3100 study, I'll get the temporary cath put in the day before collection, stay in a hotel near Emory that night (the pharmaceutical company paying for the study will pick up the tab) where a visiting nurse will come at 10:00 p.m. and give me my AMD3100 shot (I will have given myself Neupogen twice a day for 4 days prior,) and then I'll go in to the apheresis ward at 7:30 a.m. for collection for several hours. I'll get out at around 1:30 and find out that evening how many they've collected. I'll do this for up to 4 days, until they've collected 5 million cells. However, if they can't collect the full 5 mill, we'll still proceed with the transplant -- I'll just live with a low platelet count for the first year or so.

Getting back to the port, they're just going to put in a double-lumen PICC line for the transplant itself; that, with my port, will give them the 3 lines they need. Yay!

On Tuesday my transplant coordinator nurse, Jeanie, said that I'd go to collection on September 8th, but today she said that it might be a little sooner. Because of this study, they can't collect until a month after my last chemo treatment, which was 8/2.

I have an appointment with my primary oncologist next Thursday (turns out it's still the director of the transplant center, but the other oncologist with whom I've been communicating was the one who oversaw my care when I was hospitalized, and he wanted to continue to monitor me and keep in touch -- how nice is that??) Jeanie said that if she can update me sooner, she will. I like her a lot.

So that's my good news!! (And the full update, lengthy as it is.)

Oh, and I'm now officially a baldie. Lorraine INSISTS that she finds it very sexy and that I actually look hotter bald because it shows off my features. Hm.... I know she's a keeper, because I actually feel like a big egghead.....with earrings and extra eye-makeup.

No evidence of disease. NONE!

Hair and other things.

Lorraine shaved my head last night -- it really was time. I'm doing ok, apart from last night's hair heartache. Lorraine was just a wreck; she's having a really hard time this time around, the poor sweetie. I think the actual shaving illustrated the present reality of my relapse....and to have the shaver running through my regrowth, taking inches down to almost bare skin was just really hard for her. For both of us. I was struggling, but then when she broke down, it had the effect of calming me. I just wanted to comfort her. We held one another and cried. This is just a very, very hard thing to go through, in every sense. As for the hair, I'd been hoping to make it till I was hospitalized before I lost it all, but unfortunately I'll be bald for this month of rads (radiation) and then, I'm told that there's little if any regrowth for about 3 months after the stem cell transplant....so I'll probably be bald for a total of around 5 months.

It's not just that I feel so ugly, fat and unfeminine bald. Baldness is the hallmark of cancer, and tells you and the rest of the world that you're SICK. You're reminded every time you look in the mirror that cancer is a clear and present danger in your life -- as is everyone else who looks at you. I chose last time around to go without a wig, and I assume I'll be ok doing the same this time around, as well. I am just so uncomfortable in my wig -- nothing wrong with the wig if you don't mind feeling like you're wearing like a big, hairy hat! (That itches!) I am not ashamed of my sickness, so I don't feel like I have to hide it from view. What comes of that includes some unwelcome negative attention, even as I've had some great exchanges with folks who reacted to my dome and then warmed to me. Anyway, it definitely falls under that category of, "It is what it is."

I don't at all like the lag I'm in now before SOMETHING is fighting my cancer once again. It's been 2 weeks now since I've had chemo, and I think I'll start rads in another, oh, 2 weeks? A month without treatment and letting the cancer continue to grow??

This action-packed week brings a PET scan; an SCT orientation; a double bone marrow biopsy (both hips); a pulminary function test; a heart ultrasound; blood labs; a psych eval; training on how to clean, flush and change the dressings of the temporary triple lumen line (external port) I'm going to get; meeting with the research nurse about the AMD3100 study in which I'm participating; meeting with my tranplant coordinator nurse on all of the upcoming logistics; meeting with my oncologist to hear about the risks of, and sign consent for, the SCT; and either a consult with an Emory rads onc or a meet-and-greet with the new surgeon who will switch out my port, or the actual procedure -- or some combination thereof. I'm supposed to start heavy duty Neupogen for 4 days really soon -- maybe the end of this week -- and 1 day of the AMD3100. Right at the end of these, and after the port's been switched out, I'll go to stem cell collection, which is performed outpatient. Then, depending on my PET results, I'll either have some kind of heavy duty chemo (stronger than ICE) or go right into rads for 4 weeks. So, it's lots of tests and meetings this week, collection next week, chemo or meeting with rad docs (one at Emory and one closer to my house) the following week, and rads after either one. It's a lot, but I just want to get started!! Any time this cancer isn't being treated is time wasted, as far as I'm concerned.

We have to shave my head again tonight, as it's looking too patchy at 1/8th of an inch. I probably have 30% of my hair spread out over my head, with a lot of little bald spots. Being heavier this time around than last doesn't at all help my self-esteem, either. I'm actually feeling rather uncomfortably like Humpty Dumpty.....but I'm not going to fall off that wall upon which I struggle to remain so precariously balanced.

CT Results - The Good News and the Bad News

Hello, all. I finally got my results yesterday afternoon. I'm going to share here my post on the Hodgkins board detailing the results of that conversation:

Alright. My oncologist called me late this afternoon and gave me the lowdown.

The node that they said they couldn't feel and seemed to be gone is in fact 2.3 x 2.9 cm. So that was disappointing, because we got our hopes up, you know? The good news is that it is down from a starting point of 3.6 x 3.9, and they define "chemo responsiveness" as being able to get a mass down 50% or more from its original size after 2 rounds of ICE. They multiply 3.6 by 3.9 to get a starting point (14.04) and divide it by its point after the 2 treatments (so in this case, 6.07) -- so I'm more than past the 50% mark-- and with one mini and one full ICE....so they consider it a "dramatic" response. The thing is, with the mass at the size it is, they move forward with treatment. Which, of course, is a good thing!

Emory follows the treatment methodologies of Sloan Kettering, so for a person with my profile, they give a set treatment. My profile: in remission before end of ABVD (in my case, after 3 cycles), in remission for more than a year (in my case, 1 year and 2 months), having a relapse in one site only (as opposed to a systemic one), and being asymptomatic at the time of relapse. Sloan Kettering's treatment: 2 cycles of ICE, go to collection, radiate the affected area, then go to transplant. The oncologist (who, by the way, was enormously patient and sensitive with me) said that for patients with my profile, who received this treatment, the "cure" rate at 3 1/2 years out (that's as far as they've gotten) is 83%. So that was really encouraging!! (And not at all what I expected, to be honest.)

Although I was extremely responsive to ICE, they feel that radiation is the best course of action, since my relapse is not systemic, but rather isolated to just one spot. By radiating the area, they can target the single mass with no additional risk to my ability to produce stem cells for the transplant.

So, providing the PET scan I have next Wednesday is negative, the schedule now will be: lots of tests next Tuesday and Wednesday, including a PET on Wednesday; Neupogen and AMD3100 just prior to collection, which will occur the following week (in the interim, they'll switch my port to a temporary 3-lumen octopus one and then switch it back to a regular port for the month after collection); radiation for I think he said 4 weeks will commence one week after collection -- so like 2 1/2 weeks from now; then I'll go into the hospital for 6 days of high dose chemo before the transplant and stay in for the transplant and 2-3 weeks to recover my counts.

Conversely, if the PET is positive, I'll have the tests and go to collection before doing a round of some kind of chemo that's higher dose than ICE before starting radiation.

Of course I'm sort of reeling from what seems to me to be a new course of action. Lorraine remembers the oncologist at the original meeting referring to radiation. (The director -- it seems that I've been transferred to this member of his team who looked after me when I was hospitalized for ICE -- who knew? I guess I didn't get that memo. Not complaining, because I love this guy -- he's been very gentle and communicative with me, and he works within a pretty expert team, so I know I'm in good hands and a recipient of all of their collective knowledge and experience.) I don't remember hearing anything about radiation, but you know how it is -- that's why it's always a good idea to get more than your set of ears in the room.

I'm vacillating between feeling just so sad and disappointed and upset, and chewing myself out for being an ungrateful baby. I still am doing well (he said I'm "right on track,") and I still am, I'm told, going to end up in remission going into this, so I need to just open my mind and shut my mouth. If I get to the transplant a month later than I'd planned, then that's a small price to pay for getting set up for success going into this thing. Right? (These are the conversations I'm having with myself. )

Anyway, that's my update. What a freaking rollercoaster! I'll find out more on Tuesday and Wednesday -- those are the big test/teach days. We'll go to an SCT orientation and spend some time with my transplant nurse coordinator as well as the research nurse, who will talk to me about the AMD3100 study in which I'm participating.

I seem to have misplaced my inner Zen-master, but I'm sure she'll be back tomorrow. For now I'm sort of weepy and sad and scared and disappointed. Tomorrow will bring a new outlook though -- it's mind over matter, and I'll make up my mind to be optimistic again. After all, the man said 83%! Gotta love that number, right?

I'm doing a bit better today, but it's a little disappointing. On the upside, it will allow more time in my pool this summer!

More anon.

I kill cancer!

I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Here's great news, though! Today I had a follow-up visit at Emory, and they measured the node at the point of my relapse. This was the mass that started out 3.6 x 3.9 cm and then after the mini-ICE, going into the full ICE, it measured 2.5 x 2.5. So today they measured that spot to see the impact of the full round of ICE. They said, and I'm quoting here, "It's a centimeter, if it's anything at all. There's no node definition, so I don't think there's anything there at all." Woo hoooooo!!!!

So I left after arranging things for going back into the hospital on Monday for another round with my new best friend, ICE. At about 5:30, the oncologist who oversaw my treatment in the hospital (not my primary transplant doc) called me to tell me that there had been "a change in plans." No hospital on Monday....instead I'm getting a CT scan!!! He said that, after my visit with the nurse practioner this afternoon, he and my primary met and discussed what they considered to be a "very dramatic response" to the salvage chemo, and they want to hold off on the next round of ICE because they think I might not need it.

So here's the new plan: I have the CT scan on Monday and if that node shows up 1 cm or smaller, I'll get a PET next week. If it's larger, I go ahead with ICE, but they don't at all expect that (the nurse practioner had a third oncologist come in and feel it, and that was the guy who said he didn't feel anything.) So provided the CT is good, I'll get a PET next week, and we'll probably move forward with collection right away. The actual transplant (when the cells are reinfused, after the high dose chemo busulfan) will occur 4 weeks after my last ICE treatment. So if I'm in remission now --- and the goal remains for me to be in a complete remission --- the whole thing will be moved up 2 weeks. Yay!

Anyway, I am just amazed that this thing is gone (or near gone) after just 1 mini and 1 full ICE. I'm so grateful, and feel so very blessed. I wish that EVERYONE fighting this fight could get good news.

So that's my good news! I'll find out more within 2 days of Monday's CT.

That ICE is a real butt-kicker!

Whoo wee! That ICE is no joke! I'm doing ok, though. It was so great to come home yesterday -- I really missed everybody! The pool turned out so beautifully, and the fence looks just great. We have 4 deck jets which send lovely jets of streaming water into the pool -- it sounds and looks so refreshing and lively! We took a dip last night -- just what the doctor ordered. I fell out pretty early, though; I was just exhausted.

I felt really loopy and out of it, and had a lot of trouble concentrating or holding onto a train of thought. Also pretty shaky on my feet and weak. I have like ZERO energy!

I had a lousy night's sleep again last night, and today I tried to sleep as much as I could, but there were a lot of interruptions, so I didn't get to do as much catching up as I'd have liked. The high point was another swim around 5:00. Absolutely lovely! Of course I gave poor Lorraine a heart attack when I fell into the pool trying to get in. Woopsie! See, there isn't a rail for the pool entry yet, so I was leaning on a chair to get in, put all my weight on just one side and just pretty much fell out! Those liner steps are slippery little devils! I just slid from step to step and landed quite nicely; I didn't even realize until Lorraine was right behind me (she came running) that the chair and towels had come in with me! Crazy. I was just saying, "I'm ok, everything's ok" to poor Lorraine, who was trying to still her heart after envisioning my head hitting the concrete. So that was my big adventure today! We went on to enjoy over an hour of floating and paddling....what a gift!

After some yummy Thai delivery, Lorraine's snoozing in her favorite chair while I share this update with you all. Just wanted you to know that I'm ok and holding up well. I'm definitely going to turn in soon -- I'm pretty wiped.

I'm taking Emend for the nausea, so it's pretty much under control. A few waves here and there, and a definite YUCK feeling which makes me feel gross and hate how my mouth tastes. Like I said, it's mostly really bad fatigue, a lot of dizziness, and a general state of fog that are the worst, I think. There's more, but those are the biggies.

I'll check in again tomorrow because I think I just ran out of steam! I just wanted to let you know that I'm ok.

(Boy, I hope this makes sense when you guys read it! )

I'm hanging in there!

Hi all!

Just a super quick check-in to let you all know that I'm doing ok. I am exhausted and I'm going to try to catch some shut-eye after posting this. Yesterday I was up from 5:00 a.m. to 1:00 a.m., got up this morning at 7:30 and managed to get in an hour-long nap. So I'm pretty knackered. They're going to have me up late again tonight changing my IV bags, since Day 2 is a 27-hr cycle and the majority of the activity occurs between 10:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. So sad for me!

I really am doing well, apart from being just completely knackered. This is a 27-hr drip, so I'm getting a nice big bunch of ICE today! Tomorrow will be 2 hours of Etoposide, and I'll get to go home tomorrow afternoon! Yay!

And you know what else?? My pool will be full of water by the time I get home!! Now how much of a princess am I???? When I left we didn't have a fence, and the pool didn't have a liner (it's inground, with a liner -- 15 x 32, gets to 6 feet deep - limited area in back yard.) Now when I go home, I'll see a backyard transformed! We still have more work to be done there (more sod, more cement, more planting, yada yada) but I fully intend to wade right into those lovely cool waters tomorrow night. Yeah, baby!

I'll give more info tomorrow -- night night!

Love you guys...Special hello to Amie -- you're such a sweetheart! How are you holding up these days?

It's all good!

Alrighty! Thought I'd give a bit of an update.

Chemo last night went great, no problems at all. They agreed to reduce the Decadron from the normal protocol of 25 down to 10, so I was happy about that. I got Emend and Zofran for nausea, and I'm still feeling pretty good. I've got that chemo hangover/indescribable yuck feeling, but that's familiar territory. I'm to expect to start feeling worse as the day wears on, so early this morning I decided to just get up and stay up after my 5:00 a.m. vitals were checked. I figured I could watch the sunrise and enjoy feeling better while I could -- and catch up on my sleep when I started to feel badly.

My chemo agenda is as follows: Last night I had Etoposide for 2 hours. Today I'll have Etoposide for 2 hours, Carboplatin for 1 hour, and Ifosfamide and Mesna for 24 hours. Possible side effects include: nausea; vomiting; hair loss (mine started coming out on Saturday, so I'm hoping just to make it to the weekend so we can shave it at home -- but we packed the shaving kit just in case); skin rashes, diarrhea or constipation (I've got the latter and they've begun to treat it but are ramping up the dosages today because I need it); mouth ulcers; tingling sensations in hands and feet (neuropathy); fluid retention, darkened skin (this could manifest weeks from now -- sounds kind of like Bleo scars!); bladder toxicity and possible bloody urine (I had the bloody urine last time, but I also had the beginnings of a period that the chemo chased away, so it's impossible to tell what caused the presence of blood); drowsiness, feeling tired, and weakness (I had that a lot even with the mini-ICE); confusion (sure, like I'd notice that! Ha!) Pre-meds before the chemo are Decadron and Zofran, both antiemetics, and both drips.

I'm waiting now for the doctors' rotation. I don't know when they plan on hooking me back up for today's chemo. They leave my port accessed and then just plug me in! The nurses are extremely good, and I feel that I'm in very caring and capable hands. Yesterday I met with Dr. Kaufman, who's on my transplant team; he's overseeing this round of ICE. He was accessible, kind, extremely nice, well-informed, and responsive to my input and feedback. I also met with Don the Pharmacist (everyone says it like that so that's what I call him) -- he's a bigtime talker, but also expert and clearly receptive to my input, insofar as he reduced my decadron intake by less than half. Another new transplant friend is the dietician, Tiffany, who checked in with me to talk about my swallowing difficulties and reflux woes resulting from my childhood lye-ingestion.

So I'm doing just great, overall! So far, so good. Lorraine is at work now, but then is coming back here to spend a few hours with me. I miss her! And the kids!! I wish we could have called a family meeting and just explained that Mommy was going away but would be back so not to worry....but even if we could have gathered them all in one spot, some feline somebody would be yacking up something and then Louie would be rushing over there to eat it....so I don't think the meeting would yield much understanding, really. *sigh* Pets. What are you going to do besides love and worry and love some more?

I'll post more tonight or tomorrow. Ooooh!!!

BRENDA AND GRETCHEN: ARE YOU GETTING MY EMAILS? Please reply with a comment here, ok? I'm worried that my hotmail email addy is getting caught up by your spamblockers or something. Let me know!