Mask Maker, Mask Maker make me a Mask...

Okay, so I know it is corny.  I need a little levity now and then.

Yes today was  mask day. But before we get to that...

Sleeping continues to be a struggle.  I've gotten some more great suggestions to try.  Any of my Eugene peeps have a Boppy I could borrow?  I'm fine until I fall asleep, then my head slunches down and I can't breathe.  Fortunately I wake up then, but still.

So lack of sleep makes you feel not always so great. I had the stamina to go out and let the chickens out, but was too tired to make food. Bad, especially in the morning.  I finally managed to dump something in the blender and squirt it in.  Calories always make it better.  A hot shower usually does, too, but not today.  I finally managed to get dressed and drag myself out the door to acupuncture.  And the elevator is out in the parking garage.  Down three flights of stairs, hurry over to his office because I am late. Locked. What?  I pull out my planner. My brain clearly said 11 am. My planner clearly said 10. Oops. Now I owe for a missed appointment, I've dragged myself out for nothing and I still have to go back up those stairs.  The only bright side is Zachary admitted he would have missed the appointment, too, so at least I don't owe.

After struggling up the stairs, breathing like a freight train, I staggered into the truck and headed home.  Yay couch, did you miss me?

I figured a muscle relaxer might make the mask procedure more pleasant.  However, that means I can't drive. No problem. Kelly will come home and take me.  Don't forget the suction. Don't forget the suction. Oh, and don't forget the suction.

Guess what? We forgot the suction.

My 3:45 appointment started about 4:10, which would have been fine if we had remembered while we were waiting that we forgot the suction. When she took us back, the first question was, "Did you bring your suction?"  Oh, and they said Kelly couldn't come back with me.  Well, except he is the only one who knows what I'm saying.  He is my interpreter, like the girlfriend in the Karate Kid.

I thought we were going to have to abort.  She went and talked to Dr. F. He came in talked to us.  He decided it was worth giving it a go.

Actually, mask making went fine. It is a bit of an unnerving experience.  They pull out a sheet of warmed, wet white plastic. The smush this wet, warm plastic over your face/head/shoulders, and then pat it into every contour of your face. Once it is perfect, they pat it with cold gloves to set it. Some kind of fun.

The last time, I never had any holes in my mask, other than little opening for my mouth guard prongs. Today the cut out the nose and fed in oxygen tubes.  I can now see the attraction of an oxygen bar.  Ooooh, oxygen.  That is the hardest part about lying on my back, that suffocating feeling.  The oxygen really helped. They only had to set me up once to spit.  Next time, when I remember the suction, maybe they won't have to do that at all.

The mask is made, the mapping is in process. Because they aren't aiming at my tongue this time, Dr. F. feels my fillings won't cause problems like the did last time. Day zero in March 19. They will run the simulation that day and mark up my mask.  Day one, of thirty, will be March 20. I will go every week day for thirty days. I will likely also have my first dose of chemo that first day as well. We meet with the chemo oncologist on St.Patrick's Day.  Instead of driving the snakes out of Ireland, can he drive the cancer out of me?

Karissa was with Heather and the boys having a wonderful time. She was a tired little girl. Trying to practice piano when she is in that state is not pretty. Reading doesn't go particularly well, either. Time change is not our friend, either. We love the beautiful afternoon sunshine, but we are all missing that hour of sleep.

Those of you interested in being in the rotation (you know who you are), check your calendars. We will be on spring break the last week of March. Unfortunately, no one else is on spring break then. Fortunately that falls after the first chemo side effects hopefully will have subsided, but before too far along in radiation. Here's hoping that I am still up for doing some fun things that are not too strenuous. This might be the perfect time for Wildlife Safari. We'll see.

Oh, and Peggy had an excellent suggestion for me, but I need a little help.  She asked if there is a theme song for my recovery.  She says her pastor suggests it to people he works with during illness.  A tune people could hum if they were thinking about me.  Funny, so many of the common ones like Rocky or Eye the Tiger make me think of marching band.  Any ideas for me?  Bad, Bad Leroy Brown? I don't know.

Questions? Comments? Suggestions?