Cruise!

We did it!  We went on vacation, and returned relatively unscathed.  I was only a little worried about not feeling well, because I was armed with prednisone.  In the end, I never took it.  I took compazine a couple times and wore my vomit band (anti-nausea wristband, whatever) most of the time.  I didn't forget to bring along my Xeloda (chemo pills), though originally I thought I did. 

We left the pets, got in the car, and drove until we hit a deer in southern Virginia.  That part wasn't planned, and my car was scathed, but totally driveable.  So we arrived at my dad and Libby's about 1/2 hour later than planned.  My daughter can be a speed devil.  You know what that means?  She's my kid, of course.  She drove for a few hours in the deep south.

It's so incredible to get onboard the ship.  Suddenly it feels like you can brush away all the stress of planning and packing and transporting, and let other people take care of everything.  It's a huge relief.  Everything becomes a matter of what to wear, and the choices are narrow because how much can you pack?  I'm a frugal packer, so in my case, not much.

The ship itself was lovely, our room was lovely until our lovely children broke the lock to the door (they had their own room, but admittedly, their interior cabin was not so lovely as our balcony stateroom).  We had a lovely time wandering around, waiting (and waiting and waiting) to leave Fort Lauderdale.  Women line danced, drinks were offered, the pool deck band played salsa music, Jason texted lovely Laura.  Allison failed to notice there were girls her age on the ship, because she was repeatedly approached by the boys.  Jonah was reticent about the entire atmosphere.

At dinner that night we met the Molkaras, our table mates.  Who'd have thought we would laugh so much and end up closing down the dining room every night!  What a great family.  And now great new friends.

It was the third day before we arrived at our first port, Grand Cayman.  That's where Ken and the boys went helmet diving, and Allison rented a kayak.  I sat in the shade.  Allison and I shopped, and I paid a guy to break open a coconut for me.  Delicious!

The next day, we woke up to rain and wind in Jamaica.  The captain determined conditions were unsafe for leaving the ship.  Even after the gorgeous rainbow and the following sunshine, we couldn't go anywhere.  Finally the captain said it wouldn't happen, sorry, and we left Jamaica without setting anything but our eyes on it.  Allison was sad.  It turned out to be a good day, though, filled with onboard activities.  Also, Jonah finally decided to eat the food. 

Labadee, Haiti was our last stop.  Once again I sat in the shade to read, Ken in the boys swam in the cool, clear water.  Allison and I rented a jet ski, she was my passenger.  Jet skiing is my favorite water activity, and I was eager to share the experience with Allison.  We traveled in a line with other jet skiers, on a tour with a guide.  At one point we hopped off the machines to wade around in the water, while Haitian kayak hawkers hawked their trinkets aggressively.  After saying no thank you repeatedly, I found myself in the awkward and embarrassing position of needing their help:  my arms are weak, and felt tired after controlling the wave runner for 40 minutes.  I could not climb back on the jet ski.  At one point I got almost all the way on, only to slip off and submerge in the water again.  Finally, a kayaker grabbed my arm to assist, and I made it.  The other jet skiers looked at me curiously, but they had to be trying not to laugh.  The next segment of the ride was over waves, where I somehow managed to lose my sunglasses, bite my tongue, and bump my nose.  But there was no way I was falling into that water again!  In the end, Allison loved jet skiing.  I need to go to the gym.

The trip was too short.  By the time we left after the sixth night, we were planning our next cruise.  Shooting for summer of 2013.  Who's in? 

I'll not share the Florida portion of the trip, it was a nice visit with relatives.  So, in the general spirit of this blog, I'll complain about cancer; specifically, my hands and feet.  Help!  They hurt.  My hands are swollen and red , dry and itchy.  My finger tips are numb.  My feet aren't much better.  As far as chemo side effects go, I'll take it!  But you know?  I'm sick of chemo.  It's been more than six months, and I really would like to know how I'm doing.  The stuff I have to drink for a CT scan is detestable, but at this point I'd like a CT scan.  I haven't had one since September.  I'm seeing Dr. Fox tomorrow, perhaps I can beg.  Or perhaps at least he can provide a script for my hands and feet.  My fingerprints are just about gone.

Without the prednisone, my appetite is shrinking again.  I'm not horribly nauseous, just not hungry.  I really saw the decrease on the ship, where I could take as much food as I wanted.  The first couple days, I ATE.  By the end, I barely ate.  I also felt increasingly exhausted as I should've probably felt refreshed.  I don't want to end up like I was in the summer.  It's my big fear at this point, and yet here I am in bed all day, and I've only eaten two waffles.  I'm not sick, I'm not.  I'm not.