Hot Town, Summer in the City

One thing I really hate about Pasadena is the hot, muggy summer days that we get. Luckily, most of this month has been a tad milder than insufferable. But then, I'm highly sensitive to emotionally irritating things these days because there are so many of them and their parade through our lives seems so chaotically consistent.

Our first cake from a real cake bakery

Here is the only photograph taken at our fifth wedding anniversary party (thanks, Roberto). I kept the invitation list small: Cousin Robin and Evan attended (Robin was my Best Man and Evan photographed our nuptials — see our wedding album on Facebook); also a couple of our gay married friends (all married in 2008), and my good pal Jessie (back in California from a stint of overseas teaching assignments). I kept it small in case we had to cancel.  The photo is, obviously, the anniversary cake: white chocolate raspberry cake with chocolate filling. (I would not use this place again, as the woman in charge had never heard of chocolate ganache).

It was a very casual event. I asked everyone to bring finger foods and I supplied the drinks, party favors and cake. I wanted to keep things loose, as planning ahead is not easy these days; everything depends on where we are in Steve's treatment course and how he's feeling on any given day. In fact, he had an appointment in Long Beach the day before the party (which was a surprise party), and he had been talking about perhaps getting admitted to the hospital for a transfusion. While we were in the waiting room, he said he felt better and didn't need the transfusion. I said, "Well, everyone who's coming to the party tomorrow night will be really glad to hear that."

I didn't want him to feel obligated to attend the party if he really needed the medical treatment, and I didn't want the knowledge of the party to affect that decision, because I know it would. He's always been one to consider everyone else's feelings and needs in making his decisions, and now is the time for him to start getting really selfish about his own needs in everything.

We were married on Aug. 8, 2008 (auspicious 8/8/8), a couple of months before Prop 8 passed (not so auspicious). Then the economy tanked, and within a year I was laid off at The Reporter. I can honestly say the one thing that has brought true happiness to my heart in the intervening half-decade is our marriage and the foundation it provides us. And seeing the weekly slick nothing that The Reporter has been reduced to, I'm glad I wasn't kept on, although the money was very nice.

Looking back on it, things haven't been so wonderful: None of my expectations have been realized, plans and structure have been frustrated or stonewalled. But then I see that things have kind of flowed into a place where we're able to maximize taking care of Steve: he's retired, I'm working on my own schedule out of my own office, not making much money but still involved in graphic design and not beholden to an employer. And the bills are getting paid for the most part.

We haven't been to our cancer support groups meetings (Thursday evenings) in about a month now. First we were on vacation, then the oncologist's appointments fall on Thursday afternoons (we usually don't feel like attending after shlepping to Long Beach and back), and our anniversary party took precedence one week. So I'm hoping that we can get back into the swing of it today. The leader of my support group gave me a call during dinner on Monday; I was busy cooking so I let it go to voicemail.

There are still milestones occurring in Steve's treatment. This last Friday, he had a blood transfusion scheduled and I had a migraine when I woke up, so he drove himself down to Long Beach and had a volunteer down there wheel him the quarter mile from the valet parking (very nice) to the infusion clinic. The transfusion worked, as all his blood work was satisfactory, and he started his third round of chemo on Tuesday.

He's starting to react more intensely to the chemo. He has nausea and vomiting, is weak as a kitten and sleeps for most of the two or three days after receiving a dose. My job is hounding him to eat high protein (or at all), and he's been pretty cooperative. The nausea subsides but never really goes away. He has anti-nausea medication, but the side effects are as bad as the occasional nausea, so he takes it sparingly.

The chemo treatments are scheduled about three weeks apart, and the doctor keeps close tabs on his blood counts in between to head off any depletion of blood cells (white and red, as well as platelets). I keep looking for some kind of routine in the treatment, but his oncologist says there is none: things go according to how he responds each session.

One bright point: the liquid is collecting in the pleural cavity no longer. X-rays have shown that autopleurodesis has occurred, and there is no longer any need for the chest tube. In fact, the last time we attempted to drain, we got less than 0.2 liters, and I was freaking out because air bubbles were being sucked up when Steve inhaled (none breached the chest wall, luckily).

This was the last "secondary" medical problem to be resolved (there was also the necrotic small toe on his left foot). With each of these secondary problems came medications that caused reactions with the chemo and suppressed Steve's bone marrow and blood counts. Hopefully, he won't have to get as many transfusions now that those drug interactions are gone.

I got an e-mail from a fellow chamber of commerce member, a family law/estate planning attorney who is in practice with her husband here in Pasadena. I had suggested trading out some web design work (their present site is, quite frankly, atrocious; one of those "build your own" jobs), and they were receptive but not functionally responsive. This was all well before Steve's diagnosis in March.

The current e-mail kind of initiated the process, and we now have an Estate Planning Questionnaire to fill out. Again, this is not a happy time for us, but all these things seem to be occurring to facilitate everything we (and Steve) are going through right now. And I'll have a new job for the portfolio (they want to design from the logo on up, so the work will consist of print as well as web.

I've got two weeks until the Chamber of Commerce Directory starts active design work, and I'm trying to tidy up the website for Cable International Art and Antiques, get some smaller projects out of the way for one of my favorite clients, Joy, and initiate designing for the attorneys. It will all come together well; the trick is to keep on top of the moment without neglecting the consideration of what's coming down the road.

For me, I will feel blessed when we exit the summer season (usually late October or early November) and get some rain and cold nights: I miss having a comforter on the bed. It's been so warm in the evenings that we sleep with just a sheet, and the ceiling fan is usually running overhead to keep things as cool as possible.

And with fall will come Thanksgiving and Christmas. Last year we didn't put up Christmas because we were out of town. This year it all comes out as splashy as possible and ripe for making memories.

Celebration is very important these days.