“Don’t you dare let our best memories bring you sorrow.”

It’s a line in the song Lost Stars by Maroon 5 (from the movie Begin Again).

Music has such remarkable power to sooth. Ian was listening recently to the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack and he said that the songs on the playlist were much better than what’s on the radio, that these “old” songs tell stories. He asked for more and now, as he’s doing his chores, he’ll come over and share an earbud so I can hear the song that’s playing:  Barry White, BTO, Abba, Diana Ross, Jackson 5, Rupert Holmes, Carol Burnett, the Commodores, Julie Andrews, Player, Barbra Streisand, Peter Paul & Mary, and our wedding song, When I’m Sixty-four.

My “just for walking” playlist is essential to my nearly daily walks with our sweet pitbull, Poppy. (They would be daily if she didn’t object strenuously to walks in the rain!) We go all around the nearby neighborhoods and occasionally into Panther Hollow, a lovely wooded trail (though that’s a 5-miler, so we have to save it for the weekends).

After our recent rough day, she and I walked briskly through Squirrel Hill in the early morning light and, as the music played, I cried and cried and cried. It was oddly private, on those very public streets.

We learned yesterday that Ken will be done with those radiation boosts this week. That’s good, as the pain has been difficult. The nurse asked, “scale of 1 to 10” what his pain level was. I said, “11;” Ken said, “9.” We only have two days until his chemo break. In three weeks, all the damaged cells will be replaced and the radiation pain will be mostly gone. Three weeks after that, Ken will have his third PET scan.

So we thought. Unfortunately, though, The Plan has changed again. The doctor said he’s concerned about Ken’s abdominal lymph nodes, above the treatment area. He thinks they are “engaged.” Ken will still be done with radiation this week but his chemo break has been canceled. He’ll be staying on Xeloda until his next oncology appointment, September 1st.