My second chemo session went much better than the first. I had to lie down again to get the blood return, but this time I was able to return to my heated recliner. As long as I kept the chair as far back as it would go, the port cooperated.

Wayne was with me and brought lunch to my chair. I devoured a taco salad with gusto. Afterwards, I felt good so we went to the American Thrift Store to look for something he needed and then stopped by Home Depot.

The second stop was mine. I wanted my kitchen painted blue; it was a drab green color. Green has been my least favorite color, mainly because Daddy painted all of our churches green "for growth." He did the same for our houses, without stipulating it was for growth. I think he had decided four children was enough.

When we got home, I still felt good. I arranged the furniture in the spare room and did some decorating, all the while guzzling water and Gatorade. I have never been a fan of Gatorade and was having trouble consuming the recommended amount needed to keep my electrolytes and salt levels up. My sister suggested I heat the lemon flavored one and add honey. I did better with that, but afterward I was slightly nauseous. Since it was almost time for bed, I took a nausea pill, watched a TV show with Wayne and then went to sleep.

Since I went to bed nauseous, Wayne wasn't sure I should drive myself to get my Neulasta shot. Aaron volunteered to take me. He drove in from New Orleans, but I was feeling fine. We ran a couple of errands and went to Logan's Steakhouse for lunch. When we got to the cancer center for my shot, the nurse suggested I try Ibuprofen instead of Tylenol to control the bone pain. She hoped it would control the pain better. This time I was determined to take it religiously, as often as recommended.

I had a bit of nausea and took a pill once. Other than that, the day passed without additional side effects. I had some bone pain, but the Ibuprofen controlled it. I had to take the Ibuprofen for a couple of days but had no further problems during that week.

On Monday, Caleb arrived from Mexico. He was surprised to find me up and feeling fine. I explained that the "feel good" phase would probably come to a halt soon, if my blood count reacted the way it had after the first treatment. We decided to take advantage of the reprieve and trade in Granny. (My gray wig.)

We drove to the cancer center and turned Granny in. I bid her a fond farewell, having never used her. This time, the wig room was even more fun because I had a co-conspirator. Caleb and I had a ball as we dug through the wig collection looking for a replacement for Granny. We clowned, laughed, and sent pictures to Hector, Caleb's partner who was at home in Mexico. The three of us finally settled on a wig I named Chic. She was brunette with blonde highlights, something I've never had. Ray claimed I reminded him of some ancient movie star when I wore Chic, but since I'm not into movie stars, I can't remember who.

After selecting Chic, Caleb and I went to IHOP for waffle croissants filled with lemon cream and covered in blackberry sauce. They were divine. Back at the house, we played Crib until Wayne came home. We made baked sweet potatoes and baked broccoli for supper. I managed to stay up until 11p.m. with Caleb. My need to sleep was overcome by my need to spend time with my son.

I had a few bowel problems the next morning, but the medicine Judy had provided took care of it. Since my bowels woke me early, I needed a nap in the afternoon. I also figured the afternoon tiredness meant my blood levels were starting to drop. We stayed home and took it easy, playing games and gabbing.

The next day, Caleb went with me to get my labs. Sure enough, my WBC was 0.7. Judy prescribed the antibiotic again. She gave me refills this time.

"It looks like you're going to have an ongoing white blood cell problem," she said. "You might as well have a prescription on hand so that you can start taking antibiotics as soon after you get your levels as possible."

Caleb made me lunch. I have discovered that I can tolerate V8 better than Gatorade. It has lots of sodium, and Judy said I can drink it instead. Aaron drove in that evening and the three of us played games until fatigue forced me to bed. I'm sure the boys stayed up talking until the wee hours of the morning.

My bowels woke me early again. I sat outside and watched the sunrise while I praised God for a beautiful day and a loving family. Today, Aaron did the culinary chores. He made pecan crusted chicken with an apple reduction sauce, cheddar mashed potatoes and broccoli. I had no trouble gorging myself yet again.

Have you noticed that I seem obsessed with what I'm eating? I think that's because the cancer patients I knew had all struggled with finding foods to tempt the appetite. God granted me taste buds that were seemingly immune to chemo. While I ate smaller portions, I never lost my ability to enjoy food.

The boys spent the afternoon fixing the sound system that was installed in the house when Maw bought it, but she had never used it. I now had music that could be piped onto the patio, which is where I often sat and read or talked to God.

Afterwards, Aaron painted my toenails for me while Caleb slept. That had to be a labor of love; it's not the kind of thing he generally does. I did sort of coerce him by handing him the bottle of polish and asking him how much he loved me.

Sunday was Easter. Since my WBC levels were low on Thursday, I would have normally stayed away from people -- I at least until Monday. I convinced Wayne to let me go to church. He and Caleb flanked me and told people why I couldn't shake hands or receive hugs. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring water. Towards the end of the extended song service, I excused myself and went to get a drink of water. I was getting weak and lightheaded. There was a nice breeze blowing outside so I took a walk through the graveyard and viewed the family headstones. I knew Wayne would be getting worried. I went back inside, but it was stuffy, and I was still feeling weak. We aborted the outing early.

After lunch, Caleb and I decided to do scarf tying 101. Hector had found some U-tube sites that showed how to tie scarves. We got the supply of scarves I'd been collecting with just such a session in mind. We booted up the videos on the phone and had a ball creating different looks. We spent six hours doing it. When we perfected a look, I would dress in matching attire and send photos to Hector. We created ten in all. Wayne just shook his head; he thought we were bonkers.

Since I was a country girl at heart, my favorite was the braid.

When I posted them on Facebook, my sister, Myra voted for the polka dotted that was a simple one to tye.

Héctor liked all of them but he thought the black and white one looked classy.

The purple one really brought out my skin tone and it framed my face nicely.

A couple incorporated a twist called a rose.

In one, we modified the rose to look like a bun.

One had twisted edges that tied in the back and came to an off-center point.

I'm glad Caleb was there to do it with me, because I would never have done it by myself. We incorporated my broach collection into a lot of the looks. He even had me add a hat to the country look to give it more flair.

On Monday, we went to the local nursery to pick out plants for the backyard. There were vacant spaces in the flower beds, and Caleb was willing to help me fill them. Since I spent quite a bit of time on the back patio, he thought the beds were important. We got several varieties that promised to bloom all summer. One of them even claimed to attract hummingbirds. Unfortunately, Tuesday would be his last day with me, so I would have to plant them at a later date.

Tuesday, I had an afternoon Reiki session at the cancer center where I had gotten the wig. In the morning, we went shopping for some things I wanted for my convalescent area. We found everything on our list and took them to the house. We packed up the car and headed to the cancer center before going to New Orleans to spend the night at Aaron's house. Caleb had an early flight on Wednesday.

The Reiki session was advertised as a relaxation exercise. You laid on a massage table, and the practitioner laid hands on certain pressure points while relaxing music played.The practice is Hindu in origin and is designed to balance the flow of energy in your body. Some Christians warned me that it was pagan and thus should not be done. I figured that God created the body and the pressure points, which are also used by masseuses, chiropractors, physiotherapists and acupuncturists. I assumed that if I meditated on scripture and God during the session, He would have no problem with it.

I tend to carry my stress in my shoulders. I get periodic massages to try to loosen them and keep me from developing shoulder and/or headache pain. After an hour on the Reiki table, my shoulders were more relaxed than they'd been in a long time. The lady who performed the ritual, paused longer on my left shoulder and hip than elsewhere. She even went back to both places a couple of times. Afterward I asked her if she had a prescribed routine. She said she does, but that when she feels a dissonance, she lingers or goes back. She said these things are not part of her training, but something that she has incorporated when needed. The pauses and returns to the two spots mentioned were a result of what she felt while going through her regular routine. They were the two places where I had been experiencing some mild pain and distress.

Caleb and I left from there and drove straight to New Orleans. Aaron and Katherine took us to Arnaud's for dinner. Afterwards we went home and played a mindless, but fun, card game called President. We laughed a lot; it was a wonderful end to Caleb's time with me.

Caleb got the spare bedroom, and I slept with Bella, my granddaughter. I knew that sleeping with Bella would be a chore, but I also knew she wanted me to sleep with her, since she was not getting to spend time with me. Bella is one of those people who sleeps all over the bed, just like her daddy did when he was a child. She was asleep when I went to bed, so I hoped that we could avoid contact. That was not to be. As soon as she realized I was in the bed, she tried to snuggle with me. That was fine until she decided to do karate in her sleep. I ended up with bruises on my arms and legs and with a swollen knee.

If sleeping with a female wrestler wasn't enough, my arms and hands were itching. The hand itch had started a couple of nights earlier, but I discovered that if I kept them out in front of the fan, the itch would recede and I could sleep. The arm itch had started when we went to the nursery, and I got really hot. Again, cool air seemed to help it. I had looked for a rash because Judy had told me to watch for rashes, but found nothing.

Needless to say, I got no sleep. Caleb and I had to leave the house at 4 a.m. to get him to the airport in time to make it through security for his 6:15 flight. After dropping him off, I returned to Aaron's and wrote a humorous piece about my night with Bella to post on Facebook. Once Bella got up, I had breakfast with her before taking a short nap. I then headed home, making sure to stop by thrift stores on the way.

In the sunlight on the way home, I noticed that there was indeed a rash on my arms. I could now see the raised spots that I could not see in artificial light. I called Judy when I got home. She told me to come in at 10 the next morning.

The rash and itch were an allergic reaction to Taxotere. She said it tends to get worse with each treatment. I was prescribed two Claritin every day instead of taking them only the few days when I had chemo. She also told me to get a cortizone itch cream. She said the doctor would also give me an oral steroid to take the day before chemo and for a couple of days afterward. She warned that the reaction might be controlled by the medical intervention, but I should not to expect it to go away. Dr. Hansen added that if it got worse, I might have to abort the Taxotere before finishing the planned six sessions.

When I got home, I posted the information about the allergic reaction on Facebook and asked my prayer warriors to pray that the medical intervention would alleviate the symptoms completely. I knew that God knew more about my body than the doctors, and if he decided to intervene, the rash would disappear and the chemo would proceed, no matter what the doctor thought.

The itch cream worked. I was able to spend Saturday morning weeding the flowerbeds and planting the flowering plants Caleb and I had selected. It felt good to be outside doing something productive. I sang praises as I worked.

When the mailman arrived, he left me a package from my sister in South Dakota. Inside was a pink doo-rag from the Sturgis Bike Rally. I had told Rhoda that my head tended to get cold in the air conditioned house, even though I kept the temperature on 78 degrees. I burst out laughing when I got it. It was the perfect solution to that problem. It was lightweight and easy to don or remove.

I continued to feel good. On Wednesday, I made my monthly pre-chemo trip to RCC. I wore one of the scarves Caleb and I had practiced tying. I chose my personal favorite, the braid, but I added a floral accent.

I discovered that I wasn't the only one who looked forward to these visits. The inmate chaplains actually had the date on their calendars so they wouldn't miss my visit and the chance to pray for me. They lifted me up in prayer and sent me home spiritually fortified.