Vomitare!

J, my Special Snowflake, has been sick. Well, not sick, exactly, just kind of chronically vomiting. About every two weeks for the past couple of months, she has woken up in the morning, vomited (mostly bile), slept a couple more hours and then been absolutely fine until the next incident. It doesn't mimic the symptoms of a bug, and none of the rest of us has been sick. It's more like she's pregnant or hungover, both of which seem frankly unlikely.

Last night it happened again, and since we happened to be co-sleeping, I got spattered. I left for Seattle early this morning, so G took her to the doctor today. (The guilt! But someone has to bring home the bacon.) Mind you, we had called the practice pretty much every time, and even took her to urgent care once, and were repeatedly told by various doctors-on-call that she was fine. 

But today, J was actually seen by her actual doctor. She passed an in-office neurological examination. She was then sent for an x-ray and some blood draws. G reported that the doctor said that it could be metabolic or neurological. And that was pretty much all he reported. I was all...did you ask WHAT disorders? What does the doctor think? Why would this be a neurological issue? Did you tell her X, Y and Z? And, last but certainly not least, is J going to die???

Me, not J

So I did what any modern, attached and cray cray concerned mother would do--I called the doctor. Who (and this is why I love her--she's my PCP as well)
called me back! Personally, not via her MA, and not in a rush. I answer the phone, and she says, "Kimberley, this is Kimberly." How do you not love her?

J's x-ray was fine and the lab tests that had been completed were normal. There were a couple more she had to send out that will take a couple of days. Bottom line--if the rest of the tests are negative, J will have a head scan (CT or MRI). Poor little monkey.

The doctor said not to worry now but she would be concerned if we had to go further. (She's always honest, but positive--did I mention I love her?) All I can say is, after the crap couple of years we've had, my baby had goddamn better well be fine. Dr. Capp is essentially diagnosing by elimination--abdominal migraine (I know, right?), seizure (atypical, maybe? I don't remember), the ominous "something more serious" or my favorite--just something she'll pass through.

On the other hand, maybe she simply likes to puke. Just like Daddy:

Of Vampires and Rings

Our "Twilight" tour was a big success.  I read the books (and saw the movies) only because C was reading them.  I have to confess that while the films are completely ridiculous, the books are not.  Stephenie Meyer is never going to win the National Book Award, but I do credit her with creating a richly imagined world whose characters have compelling back stories. In short, I enjoyed the "Twilight" series far more than I expected, and so I was quite willing to take C to Bella's hometown.


We took a gorgeous drive up 101.  The weather was sunny and warm, not exactly what we were expecting in the rainiest town in the contiguous 48 states.  We began by checking into our Twilight Room at the Pacific Inn Motel in Forks.  C was grinning in pure delight--a rare state for my normally reserved stepdaughter.  But wouldn't you be, too, if you could sleep here:

Or wash up with these:

We shopped for a while.  There is far more "Twilight" merchandise that I would have imagined.  Most of it was crap.  C is finally old enough to appreciate that you don't have to buy something just because you can.  In fact, she asked for nothing.  I bought a Christmas ornament, but only because I buy one wherever we go.  And yes, our tree is precisely as pretty as that sounds.


But I digress!  On to the tour.  First off, major props to Team Forks for a truly fun experience.  We were supposed to do the full-meal deal, which included a cookout in La Push, but we were the only people on the tour, so our guide downsized us to just the sights within Forks.  


So on this tour...well.  You drive around in a special bus decorated like the bedroom of a Twilight-crazed tween:

Randy was our guide, and he drove us, along with his life-size cut-outs of Bella, Edward and Jacob, all around town.  I should note that this was a book tour, as opposed to a movie tour (since they didn't actually film there).  So if things don't look like the movie, that's why.  

Here's C at the entrance to town with her three best friends:

And here are Edward and I relaxing on the porch of the B&B that would have been the Cullens' house if, you know, the movie had been filmed there:

Too bad I'm Team Jacob.


And here are the high school:

and the hospital:

and, of course, Bella's truck:

C laughed the entire time...worth every penny!


After the tour, C and I drove out to the Quileute Reservation in La Push, where we saw:


The Treaty Line:

Jacob's house, with his motorcycle chained to the mailbox:

and, last but not least, First Beach:

And so to bed.


In the morning we drove to Port Angeles, rafted on the Elwha River (C fell in and had to be rescued), visited Hurricane Ridge

and, finally, had dinner at  Bella Italia, where Edward and Bella had their first date:

I hate to say it, but the food wasn't very good, and the service was spotty.  They do have a great wine list, but since I had to drive home after dinner, I had a Coke.  Just like Bella did!


No good segue here, so...

I had been having some back and hip pain, and since it lasted more than two weeks, I called my oncologist.  He was not overly concerned but ordered a CT scan to check for mets.

Does the bed move through the ring, or vice versa?  You decide.

My sister had this test when she was first diagnosed. She warned me that the contrast dye, injected intravenously, would make me feel like I just wet my pants. Joel, my friendly neighborhood CT tech, confirmed this just before he stuck the needle in my arm. I was pretty excited. I can't explain why. But just think about what it would feel like if you wet your pants but knew that they were actually dry! Crazy, right?



Only it didn't.  It felt warm down there, but not wet.  More like when your laptop gets hot on your lap, except on the inside.  It was disappointing, not in a devastated way, but kind of like how I felt when I saw Nordstrom's so-called spiral escalator for the first time:

Cool, sure, but not a spiral.


Monday I got the results--negative.  So much happiness!  Since I was not scanned at the outset (it's not typically done when your nodes are negative), this is the first objective indication I have that the cancer has not spread.  So, yes, so much happiness!  


Almost makes up for the dry pants.