Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Joy and sorrow

Katie learned how to clap! As impressing as clapping is for a baby, I'm more excited that she is starting to understand us. She recognizes the word "clap" and sometimes says "Aaaaaaaaaay" after I gleefully exclaim, "Yay, Katie!"

Dylan didn't get to go to school again today because of this damn flu bug he's still fighting. His fever is down to a 99.5 but now he's got a ridiculous cough. He needed another rest day to fully shake this thing. Kate is still hanging on with no fever and a clear runny nose.

UntitledIn good news, I saw my endocrinologist yesterday to figure out why my legs have stopped working this month and we determined that since my thyroglobulin are still at < 0.2 my cancer is most likely not spreading.  I like to hear that.

As far as my month of weakness, the doc isn't sure.  He tested my levels again and said that some people do great on a 0.03, some don't.  My levels should be 0.1 to 2 as a cancer patient because the higher my TSH the more likely the cancer cells will grow, so low is good.  However, 0.03 might be too low for my body.

Whatever the case I still very much like my doctor and I feel confident that he will take good care of me.  I like that he is thorough.  Two thyroid panels in two weeks.  My kind of doctor.  In the meantime I'm staying on my 150mcg of synthroid and taking it easy.  I feel better this week than I did the last two and I think maybe I'm on the up and up.  Let's see what my levels are in a few days and maybe we can find a happy thyroid balance.


Today is the twelfth anniversary of September 11. Those of us who are old enough to remember will never forget where we were that day as we watched those planes fly into the towers. I was working in the music library in college when another student came in and told us about the first plane. All of my classes were cancelled, except for choir. It was our first day of concert choir rehearsal and our esteemed conductor walked into that practice room with a cell phone in hand. He was waiting to hear from his daughter who worked in the trade centers. He handed us an 80-paged copy of Mozart's Requiem and told us that we were going to perform this that weekend.

That whole week is a blur to me now. The concerts we performed around the state to show our support and respect are a vague memory. But whenever I hear Mozart's Requiem I am brought back to that place, watching those towers fall and feeling in my soul the aftermath of so much suffering.