We are home, but I am going to continue writing.

I had such fun keeping the trip blog, that my friend Lynne suggested I keep writing. I was considering keeping a journal and I think this will be a good way to do it. I hope to be around for many years, but if not, this will be a way for my children and grandchildren (?) to remember me, and in the case of any grandchildren I may have, get to know me.

This damn disease is so maddening. In January my tumor marker had gone out of the normal range for the first time in over a year. My new oncologist said that it might not mean anything, but we would run monthly tests, and if it continued to climb, well... we would address it when, or if it happened. I had blood work done before the trip and purposefully did not ask for the results... I didn't want anything to take away from my enjoyment of our western excursion. Unfortunately, the marker had gone up 23 more points. I had another test last week and now the waiting, the horrible, horrible waiting. If it rises again, it will be time to try a new therapy and pray like hell that this one will work. The most difficult thing about having a terminal disease is that you have to fight daily not to let the disease define you. I tell myself not to burden my friends and family with my fears, but sometimes it is hard to stop myself. I am so lucky I have such wonderful people around me who continue to listen.

I promise this journal won't always be so depressing, but my interpretation of keeping a journal is about recording feelings as well as daily observations.

The dog has already gone up to bed, and I should, too.

Good night from Abingdon.