I have a confession to make that should surprise exactly nobody who reads this and knows me at all: I am not the most technologically adept person out there. I had to ask Chris to help me set up this blog, and it basically requires a password and an ability to type. I was proud of myself when I figured out how to imbed photos...by clicking on the icon of a photo.
Which brings me back to my ineptitude. I read and appreciate every single comment you guys make, but I haven't yet figured out how to post replies to them so that you know I'm in a conversation with you. It's my goal for this week's treatment session: figure out how to comment on my own blog (well, that and kill cancer). In theory, it should be simple, and I welcome any tips from out there in the Internets.
To address a few outstanding questions in the meantime: Chris was a nutty professor for Halloween (oh, wait). We never did have to resort to the Irish teething cure, and are thisclose to Bug sleeping through the night uninterrupted. Hallelujah. Also, I've decided on a double mastectomy; as I get closer to the end of chemo, I just want this disease never to be a part of my life again. They can take my spleen, appendix, gall bladder and ovaries, too, if it means I get to be done with the Big C. And, yes, yoga is a godsend.
Thank you all for following along this crazy journey of ours - for the virtual hugs, high-fives, fist-bumps and cheers from the sidelines. I am running the ultimate marathon, and you are my pace car, water station and cheering section all in one. Down the road, if anyone ever wonders how we got through this period (because we will get through it, will finish this race), I know it'll be because we had this incredible network of support. You guys - and some phenomenal doctors - will have saved my life, and I can't thank you enough.