What a week this has been! Things move so fast that sometimes I have a difficult time keeping up. I completed Round 4 of infusions last Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We left Thursday morning for a flight to Springfield, Missouri. I always appreciate being able to fly out the Mesa Gateway Airport, which is a 30-minute drive from our home rather than out of Sky Harbor Airport which is an hour away.
We had a wonderful weekend celebrating my granddaughter, Niki’s graduation from Missouri State University. She is such a smarty-pants—graduating summa cum laude. I graduated from the same place—oh yeah, no cum laude of any kind! I am so proud of her.
I was able to deliver to Niki the quilt I had promised to make her. I am so glad she loved it. Although I had the design and fabric for well over a year, I didn’t even cut the fabric until the end of the year 2025. I knew that when I returned from the Hawaiian cruise, I would have to get on the stick and start stitching this queen size quilt. What I didn’t have in that plan was a cancer diagnosis. This quilt is made up of 1,034 triangles, sewn in 20 horizontal rows. I almost went cross-eyed sewing this thing! I was beginning to worry that this quilt would not happen. It finally did, and with the help of my wonderful long arm quilter, Sue, it was finished in the nick of time to deliver the quilt.
When I was diagnosed with Small Cell Lung Cancer on February 9, 2026, the oncologist told me that if I did nothing, I would be dead in 3 months. Of course, that was shocking news, and I am sure that the doctor did that so I would not hesitate on beginning treatment. I was fast-tracked to scans, port placement, and chemotherapy/immunotherapy. Last week I reminded Dennis that Saturday, May 9 was the three-month mark. He said he would take me out to dinner to celebrate. I then reminded him that we would be in Springfield on that date, so the plan changed to celebrate with my son, his daughter, and her fiancé.
Graduation was Friday.
Saturday the 9th, we picked up Ben (my son), Niki, and Parker (Niki’s fiancé) and drove to Branson to the Sight and Sound Theater. I have been to many theater productions, and nothing compares to the productions done at Sight and Sound. This theater does biblical stories. The stage is huge and also has stages going down the right and left side of the theater. Live animals are always part of the production. Soldiers on horseback are known to run down the aisles to the stage, along with sheep, camels, birds in flight, etc. The animals are so well trained.
The show that is currently showing at the Branson location (they also have a location in Lancaster, Pennsylvania) is “David.” As you know from reading previous blogs, the story of David in the Old Testament resonates with me. It was the perfect show to see.
After the show, we took everyone to dinner. Saturday all five of us celebrated “Not Dead Day.” Yes, that’s what I named it. It was funny how throughout the day I would stop and turn to them and say, “I’m not dead,” and naturally we all raised our hands and shouted, “Yay!” It became the running joke of the day. It was also a reminder that I was healthy enough to spend a wonderful weekend with people I love. It was a day to celebrate.
I’m going to back up and tell you about my 4th and last round of infusions. I did my last round of infusions, Monday through Wednesday, May 4. 5, and 6. On day three, my nurse, Taylor, said I could ring the bell when I was finished. I was confused by that, because I believed that the bell was rung once a patient had the diagnosis of “NED” (No Evidence of Disease). Taylor told me that at MD Anderson Cancer Center they celebrate baby steps, and I can ring the bell because I have completed my full rounds of chemotherapy and immunotherapy.
As we walked toward the bell, Taylor announced to all the staff and patients that we were on our way to the bell. Several of the staff who were free at the moment joined us in the hallway by the bell. Taylor handed me a certificate of completing my four rounds. I chose to celebrate this very small milestone.
I am grateful that the Lord has spared me from any terrible side effects of the infusions. My sister, Judy, couldn’t handle her chemotherapy infusions—it made her violently ill. Dennis had the same experience with his wife, Joann. It was good to know that neither he nor I had to experience the trauma we saw our loved ones go through. I believe in the power of prayer, and the multitude of people everywhere who were praying for me and sending me messages of encouragement were heard. Thank you to each and every one of you. God has heard your prayers.
I was once again, given the “shot box” on my arm to be released 27 hours after the last infusion. That meant the shot was going to go off while we were in Springfield, Missouri. It actually went off while we were at dinner at Lambert’s Café (a food disappointment this visit, although the “throwed rolls” did not disappoint), having dinner with Ben, Niki, and Parker, along with my nephew who lives in the Springfield area, Eric. It still feels weird to all of a sudden get an electronic poke, almost like a spark, while eating dinner, and then knowing that a box on my arm was flashing a little green light until the infusion was complete.
After a week of infusions, and wonderful weekend in southwestern Missouri, we headed home Sunday afternoon. I was prepping for Monday morning MRI of my brain and PET scan of my body. Because of the PET scan, I was required to eat high protein, low carb meals, no sugar. Hmm, how does one do that as traveling? Don’t eat at the airport where everything is basically sandwiches and other high carb, high sugar items. We chose to start Sunday with a late Mother’s Day breakfast with Ben. I chose to have a Denver omelet—eggs, cheddar cheese, and ham—all protein, no carbs. The omelet was large enough to carry me through to dinner at home which also consisted of scrambled eggs with melted cheddar, and a plain burger. That took care of the dietary restrictions for the day. Other restriction of the day was no big exercising—no problem—both airports are small and I’m on a plane most of the time.
Monday morning started with CT scan of the brain and then full body PET scan. My appointment with the oncologist was on Tuesday. Lessons I am learning—don’t read your own imaging reports before meeting with the doctor. I read them Monday evening, and it was really hard to interpret and compare with the last scans performed a couple months before. I spent Monday night pretty much unable to sleep just trying to process my next steps that didn’t look good to me. Then—yes, then I spoke with the doctor by phone whose results where way better than I thought.
Here is the scoop according to Dr. Nui: He said that my scans look good. Everything is stable. That means these highly aggressive tumors did not grow. The tumor in the liver that he was worried about being too close to the bile duct was much reduced and not a threat to the bile duct. Yay, good news!
The METS in my brain (tumor) needs to have direct radiation (which is so much better than “whole brain radiation”). It is a direct hit on the tumor and there should be no terrible side effects. I have a consultation next Monday, May 18, with the radiologist at MD Anderson Cancer Center. I guess the date for the “gamma knife” procedure will be set then, and I probably will need only one radiation treatment. Yay, good news again! Everything I have read about this procedure sounds good—not painful, very effective for METS, and usually no bad side effects.
On June 1, I will start immunotherapy. It is a one-hour infusion and will be done every four weeks. My next scans then will be done in about 10 weeks, which looks like mid to late July.
Dr Nui said there is a lot of cause for hope, and I should continue living life and keeping active including working out, which I have restarted already in the swim spa.
This looks like my new normal for now. We were so encouraged by the doctor’s report. My son, Andrew, is in town with us. As soon as we were done with our call with the doctor (whom I had on speaker), Andrew jumped up and gave me a big hug. We all laughed about how stressed we were the night before imagining the unknown, how we sacrificed sleep when that was so unnecessary.
Praise God! I’m not cured, but stability is always good news. When I had my infusions last week, I asked my advanced care nurse what the goal was for me. She stated that #1 hope is to be “NED” (No Evidence of Disease), or at least the cancer be stabilized and treated for years to come, that I have many years of living a full life under treatment. I am good with both of those, of course, #1 being optimal.
My new normal is still my current normal of living my life to the fullest, but hopefully, not needing chemotherapy. The scans in late July will tell if this new normal will continue, or if we have to develop a different new normal.
We can travel. If we do long term travel, I can always jump on a plane for my monthly infusion and maybe spend a few days in Arizona and then return back to our travel destination. We have options, and I am one to find all the good ones!
Andrea Unsinkable 