I Learned to Make Links--can you Tell?

Hi All,
Had chemo last Thursday. My Aunt Karen (again visiting from New York--great timing) took me because Greg is sick. Hannah also showed up because she had a break in clients (she colors hair at DiPietro Todd Salon in SF--but that's just what she does for a living. She is oh so much more than that. Mainly she is my Sunday night savior).
Appointment was kind of rough emotionally. My tumor hasn't shrunk with this new Taxol drug. It has stayed at 1.5 cm and seems to like it there. So Hope (my oncologist) added a second chemo drug to my treatment along with the Taxol. Another bag going through the IV. Another hour. Drip. Drip. Hope's reason for adding this drug (called Carboplatin by the way) is that I only have one chance to get cured of this cancer. She wants to see the tumor completely gone even though I am going to have surgery to remove both my breasts. I think the thinking is that eradicating this tumor in my breast means that any little cancer satellite cells that may be lingering in my body waiting to wreak future havoc will also be gone--whereas if the tumor is still around--then maybe those cells are too. I suppose I could have asked her this question--if this logic is correct--but I got all tongue tied when she told me that if my breast cancer comes back, it's considered incurable. Incurable cancer. I just live with it until it kills me. Not a nice thought.
Then as she was leaving the exam room trailed by an intern (with really cold hands by the way--yes, they all like to touch my tumor) I mentioned I had one treatment left after that day and the last words out of her mouth as she shut the door were 'maybe....'. So, I think this means if the Carboplatin doesn't work, my last day may not be April 3rd as I had hoped. Which means my surgery may not be May 6th as I had also hoped. But, again. Whatever. I would rather kill this little stubborn sucker of a tumor and be bald all summer than ever hear that my breast cancer came back.
Speaking of being bald. Getting really sick of it. My Aunts have been awesome in getting me some good hats I feel good in. Wearing them in the pictures above. See what I mean? Simple. Not too Beret French looking. Not too English lady at a Polo match either (not that there is anything wrong with looking like an English lady Gill and Katie!). I have this hat in brown, black and cream and then was in Mill Valley yesterday with my sisters, the babies and Nina's friend Leslie and found the Mill Valley Hat Shop which sold them in green, blue, lavender, navy and white. So I added to my collection. Yeah for hats that aren't annoying!
In other news--Greg has pneumonia. Such a nightmare. So, it's been all me with the baby since we are both freaked out by the idea of her getting sick. I think he got a basic flu from a workmate but since we both don't get any sleep (oh yes, she is still up every two hours for a bottle and a cuddle) our immune systems are down, hence the pneumonia infection. It's some sort of miracle I am not sick too (well, sick with pneumonia) since I have a pretty compromised immune system. He sleeps on the couch and I steer fairly clear of him which sort of sucks for him since I think he would like a bottle and a cuddle too. Poor guy.
And finally, the saddest news of all. I lost a family member last week. My third cousin Taylor Lynn Cohen. She was an amazing little lady. Full of personality. I only wish we had been closer. I suppose I thought I had more time to get to know her. To be closer. It's the biggest tragedy.
It feels weird mentioning this in my blog. But I would feel weirder if I didn't as it really puts everything in perspective for me in a very powerful way.
Love,
Rosalie