I've got a new blog address. It's www.mypetshadow.net. Of course, if you use the old address with the blogspot.com domain, it'll redirect here, but just thought you'd like to know.

Greetings, dear bloggie friends. Once again, I've managed to fit a prolonged absence into my busy schedule (which you may follow here if you're exceedingly bored). I have an excuse, however. It's a bit lengthy, but bear with me.

Shortly after my last blog post way back when in November, I called my brother to see if he'd put me up for a couple of days so I could watch another space shuttle launch, scheduled for November 14th. My daughter has been dying to see one and the plan was for me to pull her out of school that day and head to Florida.

The Wednesday before the launch, however, I checked the shuttle status website and learned that the weather forecast had changed to the point that they were predicting a 70% chance of a no-go. I called my brother and told him that I thought I'd scratch this launch and wait for the next. Ten hours with a seven-year-old child in the car was too much trip to make if we didn't get to see the thing pop. He said he understood and that we'd be welcome for the next launch.

I thought that was that. An hour later, my life would change drastically.

He called me back and said, "I didn't want to worry you when we talked earlier, but I'm in the hospital. I've been doing battle with what I thought was a cold for the past two weeks, but last night, I woke up with severe pain in my chest and went to the emergency room. They did a chest x-ray and discovered a mass in my right lung.

I was floored.

Later that week, they did a bronchoscopy to collect a biopsy sample and determined that it was non-small cell cancer, though adenocarcinoma instead of squamous cell cancer which one would typically see with chronic smoking.

Years ago, I lost my mother to cancer. I also lost my Grandfather when I was very young - seven years old, I think - and an aunt. All were claimed by cancer. There was a genetic trait called Peutz-Jeghers Syndrome that ran in my family, and it contributed, as far as anyone can tell, in each of their deaths. After my aunt died, everyone in my family was tested for it and my brother had the trait. I was spared. I am adopted and don't share my family's tainted DNA.

My brother was scheduled for surgery on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving to remove his entire right lung. As far as they could determine, the cancer hadn't spread, but just to be sure, they harvested some lymph nodes before the operation and sent them to the lab for biopsy before they cut his lung out. The biopsy showed that the cancer had spread, making surgery the less desired path. They closed him up and scheduled him for chemotherapy to try and shrink the tumor and clear up the metastatic portion of it.

On New Years Day, he was one week post-treatment after his second round of chemo. I went down to Florida to help his fiancee attend to him, planning on spending a week there - possibly two, if necessary.

When I got there, though, I discovered that my brother had understated the seriousness of his condition when I talked to him a day or two before. He was wracked with pain - so much so that if a bed sheet were wrinkled beneath him, not only could he feel it, but it would actually cause him discomfort. I knew as soon as I saw him that he wouldn't survive this.

Because he was in so much pain, we had to move him around constantly, much like burn victims have to be moved because the sensitiveity of their skin and the contact with the bed.

The second night I was there, he started running a fever, a concern because the chemotherapy had suppressed his white blood cell production and, concommitantly, his immune system. We called 911 and got him transported to the hospital, where he was admitted.

A few days into his first hospital stay, they discovered, during some routine tests, that he had developed a second cancer, this one Renal Cell Cancer, in his kidneys, liver, and bones (thus the pain). Now strapped with two types of cancer, I knew the battle couldn't be won and that I needed to make sure he was comfortable for the rest of his life, so I decided to stay in Florida for the duration.

He was released from his first hospital stay on the 20th of January, and I came home to take care of a few loose ends that needed attention in order for me to be away for any length of time.

The following week, I was back in Florida and we admitted him to the hospital again, this time because the calcium levels in his blood had grown dangerously high as the cancer in his bones was leeching the calcium out of his skeleton and dumping it into his bloodstream.

Though they brought that under control quickly, they kept him in the hospital as complication after complication arose, until he finally died on February 26th.

I've returned home, now. The funerals have been held (one in Florida for his friends there and one here for his local friends) and now it's time for me to get back to the regular bump-and-grind. Except I'm so tired that I don't think I've got much bump and very little grind left with which to do it.