For about 2 or 3 weeks, I have been waking up at a stupid time. It’s usually 4:30 am. Today was 2:30 am.
I have had pressure in my head every morning. Ibuprofen will calm it down, but it really isn’t a normal headache. I spoke about the fucking tumors in my previous post. I think they are talking to me. It’s very rude. I would like to sleep. I am just exhausted.
I have enough going through my mind . I don’t need the fucking tumors to decide to converse with me at an unreasonably early hour of the day. So damned rude.
The perk is starting my coffee early. I don’t start it as soon as the fuckers wake me up. I do try to get back to sleep and will just lay in bed for two or more hours. Ugh.
Today’s coffee cup has Shakespearien insults on it. It felt like the cup I needed this morning.
I do see my doctor in a few days. I don’t know if this is something that can be fixed, but I am hoping.
I guess December 8, 2020 will be memorable to everyone but me. I have no recollection of that day existing. It was Monday, then Wednesday.
I have been told about the events that occurred. I have been told of the events after. I have had to ask people to speak with my husband. He knew what happened. I don’t.
I sent the text to my husband. He was at work. He tried to call me back and I wasn’t making sense. We live with his parents, so he called his mom to have her check on me.
I don’t know what happened. I have been told that an ambulance was called and Gabriel came home from work. I scared my family. I would probably be more upset. I think I should be more upset.
The EMTs helped me up the stairs and into my car. On the passenger side. Gabriel drove me to the ER.
I know that I had tests. Blood work, MRI, probably a CT. I had new tumors growing in my brain. My blood pressure was low. My heart function would show as lower from an echocardiogram the next day.
I have used up my brain radiation. I am not allowed another whole brain, which would be the treatment for all those little fuckers. I think I am still allowed targeted, but there are too many.
The chemo was working really well for the rest of my lesions and tumors. It is just making my heart not so good.
I was suffering from a seizure in my brain. This would be why I was having so much trouble talking and can not remember Tuesday. I am now taking anti-seizure medication.
The very low blood pressure would be the cause of not being able to stand up.
I was taking heart medication with the intent of keeping my heart function above 50%. I am not taking that any longer and my chemo has been lowered in hopes of helping my heart get back into the 50’s. There is also some hope that it will break the brain barrier and get the brain tumors.
With the possible seizures, I am no longer allowed to drive. I just got a new car. I love my car. At least this gives me a chance to give my oldest hours for his driving class. In my new (used) Rogue.
Palliative care has been brought up. I had a team when I was first diagnosed. I was very sick at that time. I am so mad. I have plans. I need to prepare things for my family.
It has now been a few weeks. I have been the recipient of the generous side of humans. We have had food delivered. People went a little crazy with gifting my kids. Someone picks up my kids clothes, washes them, then returns them.
The Warrior Sisterhood left a gift in my yard. I cried.
I can’t think of how to properly express my gratitude. I wake up most mornings with a headache or a back ache bad enough for pain meds. I have trouble walking a good portion of the time and I now have a loathing for stairs.
Having help with food and clothes is fantastic. If any of you read this, please know your actions have been absolutely appreciated.
I don’t know what my future will bring. December 8 scared all of us. My doctors and care team are working hard to keep me going. My family and friends are working hard to keep me going. I love all of you.
I did not write a Pinktober post last year. I decided to put it on the back burner as October 2019 was a bit crazy for me.
I was dealing with the after effects of a really bad reaction to a chemo I had started. Gabapentin did a good job of trying to kill me. It was supposed to be a more gentle treatment. I went to the ER twice a few days after two different chemo treatments. The second time was what put the puzzle together.
On September 25, three days after chemo, I went in with a 103 F temperature and blood pressure that was so low, I had trouble walking and standing. Septic shock was the consensus, but no source of infection. I was kept in ICU for a few days until my mysterious condition stabilized.
On October 10, 4 days after chemo, I went back to the ER with the same issues. My oncologist put a quick stop to the chemo and started me on Navelbine.
I still had a pretty successful Witches Tea Party. Fuck cancer.
With that out of the way, you get to have some anger and sorrow-filled preaching.
Kim Wolski was one of those amazing people that I should have met in person. I can guarantee that we had passed each other a few times. She moved from Minnesota to Florida at about the same time I moved from Florida to Minnesota. She had stopped in Jax on her way to Tampa and even went to Einstein-a-Go-Go. I loved that little club.
Cancer murdered her December 10, 2019. She was beautiful inside and out. She was smart and a motivated MBC advocate. She was a wonderful mom. I hate saying “was.”
I did not know until March 2020 that Kim had died. I have been staying largely away from social media. This is the news that I miss out on. It is frustrating, maddening, and devastating.
To pay tribute to her, I wish to post something she had posted, and given me permission to write into my blog.
Kim Wolski 10/26/2018 “Actually…. here it is: Seer database: A database is designed to be a host for storing data. How you filter and disseminated, would determine how you effectively utilize the database. Not having full data content can lead and would lead to misleading information. Targeting certain markets doesn’t muddy the waters, it actually steers conclusions to wanted probable outcomes. Especially with African American women who seems to have a greater risk of reoccurrence. The database can be a useful tool to filter down. Look at my case, as a white woman with no history of breast cancer in her family, active, within BMI, nursed both of her babies for a year each, never smoked or drank; the likelihood of me developing breast cancer at all was less than 5%. And I metastasized right away with an aggressive form of BC. If breast cancer is the second cause of death for women under 50, you would think that capturing and being able to filter my race, geographical, environmental would be useful in help finding a cure or at least making this truly a ‘chronic’ disease like AIDS. Without the study of origin of the AIDS virus, would we have so quickly deduced a control one could argue. As we get older, our cellular division mutating does scientifically makes sense, but with younger and younger MBC patients we are losing, it’s reached beyond an AIDS epidemic.”
But there is so much more. I should have copied some of the answers to her post. The terrible fact is that Metastatic Breast Cancer numbers are incorrect. I have preached on it before and metsters will continue preaching on it after I have left this plain of existence. The numbers are not low in a good way. They are low in a deceiving way.
People diagnosed at an early stage of breast cancer: stage I – III are not included in the metastatic, stage IV numbers. I see that this can cause a lot of issues. I have no idea why early stagers are not counted. This shit kills them too. It isn’t as if they are somehow magical and stage IV is nothing to them.
Approximately 30% of early stage breast cancer survivors become stage IV. Approximately is all I can tell you as the numbers are messed up. I see so many folks who have absolutely no idea what is going on come into my support groups. The questions and the statements are heartbreaking.
“I had no idea this could happen to me.”
“When do you ladies end treatment?”
“I don’t know how I got here.”
“I was cancer-free for 15 years.”
“What is Metastatic Breast Cancer?“
Then, there are the people like Kim and me. Diagnosed de novo. We are the 5%. With only 5% of us counted for studies, it makes sense that I was told this disease is so damned rare.
With stats like this, we often feel ignored. With more research focused on early stage breast cancer, we feel ignored. It isn’t that those studies are not important. They are. We just want to be acknowledged and have *MORE* studies done.
This is why I push Metavivor on my friends for donations every year. Metavivor is an important resource for us Metsters. They fund the research that is needed for Stage IV. They will not be able to save me, but I am hoping they will save future generations.
On August 25, I will have made it another year. Suck it, cancer.
I have no idea what to write about the fourth year. I have survived longer than some, but not as long as others. I have days that are awesome and days that feel awful. The whole 2020 curse isn’t helping that last bit.
I will be celebrating surviving for four years with Herceptin, Taxotere, and a bone strengthener, Zometa. Awesome! I will actually celebrate with some sort of favorite dessert.
Fuck you, cancer
What to write about the fourth year? I feel like everyone in the world has experienced so much along with me. I feel like these could be some of own personal highlights:
Gabapentin tried to kill me at the end of September and again near the beginning of October. It looked as if I had septic shock, but the docs could find no sources of infection. My blood pressure was so low, I had trouble walking and standing. My temperature was up to 103 F.
Navelbine, right after the Gabapentin did not work at all. I called it the bellybutton medicine when I couldn’t recall the name.
A good thing happened. I was accepted to the February 2020 Inheritance of Hope before the big closedown. They took us to Orlando for Disney and Universal. We had support groups for the boys and Gabriel & me. It was an amazing experience and you can read about in a few past post in February.
I met a “healer.” I call her the chicken lady. You should read her post here. There is a lot of crazy to write on this subject.
Around mid-March/April, I started having trouble with scintillating scotoma. Then I had issues with aphasia. The two of them led to scans that led to whole brain radiation. That was really difficult.
The last on the list of highlights would be my heart. The Herceptin has caused it to from about 50% to 40%. I will be doing a future test for that.
I’ve met a lot of new people and I have lost a lot of old and new friends. The year became weird with Covid-19. I wish all of you good health.
Seriously. I have had all types of radiation. Upper thoracic, skull (not brain), sacrum, right shoulder, liver, left eye orbital, right eye orbital, targeted brain tumors. The side effects were rough on all of them, but I was able to work around most of them.
WBR was different. In my previous post, I mentioned what had happened that led to the decision for this treatment. The aphasia happened only once after I started rads. It was during an online doctor meeting for Sam, of course. Couldn’t have been better timing. I was lucky that Gabriel was working at home and not in a meeting of his own. I couldn’t stop saying, “musk-les.” I couldn’t pronounce “muscles.” I was able to choke out a “help” to Gabe. Aphasia is sneaky and frightening.
I still get the scintillating scotoma. Not as often and not always with a headache. At the moment, this is what has been keeping me from driving. I can’t see through those damned shapes.
WBR wore me out, for starters. Mildly at first. I started to look forward to the weekend break to get my stamina up enough to at least do laundry. I had 10 total treatments from May 18 through June 2. By the end, I was a mindless mess, too tired to get out of my chair, help with dishes, or read to my boys.
Radiation treatment will take about two weeks to fully end after the last treatment. Since June 2, I have had awful side effects. I, at least, remembered after the first week to apply liberal amounts of vitamin E to my head. I still have scabbing, but it could have been worse.
But, it did get worse. I had ZERO idea that it could be possible to have the skin around my eyes burn. I knew my eyes might be affected. I was told my vision could change. I have been washing them often, putting in eye drops, and slathering vitamin E on my face (safely). The skin around my eyes is red and has a lot of tiny white peelings. So sexy. To make it even better, my eyes are always weeping and the skin resembles alligator skin.
Then… my right ear popped very audibly and I had fluid and blood come out. Seriously. What. The. Fuck. I won a trip to Urgent Care and a double ear infection.
Probably one of the harder side effects, mentally, wasn’t even from radiation. I had to take a steroid twice a day to help cope with any pain from my brain swelling due to rads. The steroid caused my body to swell up. My abdomen and my face resemble an egg. It wasn’t comfortable and I really didn’t look like myself. I was given a schedule to reduce and get off the steroids. My last dose was June 10. Such a relief.
What these after-effects also led to was less time on social media, not so terrible. I also contacted fewer friends, not so good. I’ve been reading more, which is nice. I have just been more introverted than usual. I have a few friends and family who wrote letters to me before and during my treatment. I need to finish my letters back to them. They were very much appreciated.
The steroid bloating has gone down a lot. I don’t feel nearly so uncomfortable. However, without the steroid to check it, my pain levels have risen. Currently, I am fine with that. I would rather take pain medication every other day or so than to deal with an egg head and body.
My eyes have also cleared up a great deal. I still use eye drops multiple times during the day. I still have scabbing around my head, but it is now more itchy and it is healing.
One side-effect that I am getting under control is no sense of being full. I have been eating more than I usually do. This was strange because I was also unable to taste anything. I the past, this has caused nausea. I am good with having a little weight to lose.
To my metsters about to go through whole brain radiation, moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. Don’t forget your face. Be sure to keep up on your veggies. If you lose your sense of taste, as I did, balsamic vinegar is helpful on a salad or pretty much any vegetable. It is also good on chicken.
My cancer wants to eat my brain. Therefore, cancer is a zombie that I am unable to kill it properly. I can’t even follow all the rules appropriately apart from having a kick-ass partner.
The night of May 8, Gabriel took me to the ER – side note, I have been writing a poem or song about the ER. I felt that was something I need as I spend so much time there. The scintillating scotoma has been going on for a few months. For those of you who are looking this up, my own experiences have normally involved bright objects, sometimes like lightning or lines. Last night involved large rounded shapes.
Scotoma lights can not be seen through. This makes it very difficult to read, look at all of the things my kids show me everyday, and drive. The lightning lines I can work with. The shapes were impossible. I was glad that I was at home when they really hit. I had been running an errand just before. These always lead to headaches. I was told it led to migraines, but they did not feel like migraines to me.
I have been waking up with headaches for the past few months; different from migraines or sinus types. An ache starting at the base of my neck and heading up over my skull. This has been going on since at least March, but maybe longer. It isn’t a pleasant way to start the day.
I am sure that a lot of people are asking, “Why didn’t your oncologist do anything?” The answer is that he has. Dr. C is really on task and doing his best to keep me earth-side. I had first mentioned the lightening lines probably around October or November of 2019. I also talked to my radiation oncologist about it. Dr. J also suffered from scotoma and told me it was caused by stress. I did have three baby zombies making an appearance at that time.
Betweeen the three of us, we decided to allow my current chemo to do its job. And it did. Those zombies were double-tapped and gone with the next scan.
The scintillating scotoma actually did continue. It didn’t show up very often and I could fade it out by using calming techniques: deep breathing and keeping my eyes closed for a minute or two. With four kids and a rather large house, I think I am allowed some stress. These did settle it down, and quickly.
This method worked really well up until about February, when my headaches started. I probably should have discussed it with my cancer team when they were becoming more frequent and annoying. Maybe even insisting on noggin scans. Admittedly, I did not as I thought it was the anxiety about Covid-19 that was causing the lightning and the headaches. I believe Dr. C was thinking the same thing.
These are weird times.
Back to the ER visit.
Last night, I was not only seeing the bright shapes, I was not able to speak properly. My brain was not allowing me to speak the words that I wanted. What popped out was a jumble of nonsense. I heard it come out and I knew it wasn’t right. It took a lot of work for me to say what I wanted to say.
Adding in a large headache to the above symptoms had my husband on the phone with Dr. C. He had me go straight to the ER.
I had a blood draw and a CT scan. The blood looked okay to the ER doc, apart from low hemoglobin. The scan showed a large number of mets had invaded my head. The doctor recommended full brain radiation and had sent that to Dr. C and my General Practitioner.
He told me that what I had been experiencing was probably less scotoma and more seizures. The tumors were probably causing inflammation and swelling in my brain. This would explain the words and the brighter images that have been affecting me.
I will see my oncologist on Tuesday and I will most likely get an appointment to speak with Dr. J about the radiation. In the meantime, I am taking steroids more often to help with the headaches and a seizure medication to help with the lightning. I will post an update after speaking with them.
This is a recipe adapted from the book,Natural Magic by John Michael Greer. I love this recipe. It is easy and super yummy and can be adjusted to your liking. I am always playing around with the whole wheat to all-purpose ratio.
This recipe makes one loaf.
3/4 cup lukewarm water
1 rounded tbsp yeast
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup steel-cut oats
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup honey
Slowly pour yeast into water. Stir. Let sit for about 10 minutes.
While yeast is sitting, mix dry ingredients together. Pour in honey and yeast Mix together, then knead for 5 – 10 minutes. If you have a dough hook on a standing mixer, it helps a ton. However, hand kneading is a really good way to get out any stress you might be feeling. I am quite fond of my beautiful KitchenAid. I even blinged her out. I get out my stress later on with punching the dough.
Oil a bowl. Place dough in bowl and turn over to coat in oil. Let rise until double in size, about 30 minutes.
Punch down dough. Let rise again.
Oil cookie sheet/bread pans. Punch down dough. Shape dough and place on cookie sheet or in pan. I like to melt butter and use a brush to spread it on the top. This bread can be woven, baked in a bread pan, or shaped into rolls.
Move oven rack to center and place an oven safe container with water on lower rack. Heat oven to 450°. Let dough rise and rest for about 15 minutes before placing in oven. As soon as you put bread in oven, lower heat to 375°.
Let bread bake until it sounds hollow when tapped on bottom. 18 – 23 minutes.
On February 12, I had an unusual experience. I had been set up with an appointment to meet with a lady who had helped one of our handymen with cancer. I figured it was not a terrible idea to check it out. If anything, maybe I could add foods to my diet or other advice.
Disclaimer: Before I get comments telling me to beware supplements that could harm my chemo process, I am well aware of that and I research all herbs and supplements before trying them. For other chemo patients, one of my best resources has been the Sloan Kettering app “About Herbs.”
I listened to this lady, let’s call her “X,” for nearly four hours. I should have left within the first ten minutes. I know some people are all for this, but if I go with any sort of naturopathic help, I want someone who will treat me with respect and who is actually knowledgeable about cancer. More on that later.
She mostly spoke about herself and her accomplishments. X had created the cure for malaria, Parkinson’s, Ebola, and saved the Tri-Cities from Ebola by stopping it in Yakima. She will be creating the cure for Coronavirus. She expects to be killed by the government for her coronavirus cure.
Oh yeah. This post absolutely requires memes.
Mexico loved her and wanted her to stay. She had saved a billionaire and his son in Idaho. He offered her something like a million dollars to go on TV to discuss her treatments. She declined Mexico and the Idaho rich man. After all, she is not in this to make money.
X explained the origins of some of today’s diseases. Parkinson’s was created by the Italians, along with the cure. Canada created multiple sclerosis. The United States is spreading cancer via chickens and eggs.
Tyson started injecting things into their chickens that causes cancer. As a company, they are super secretive about what they do to their chicken. However, most companies are secretive about their processes.
Tyson collaborated with McDonald’s to spread their cancer-causing chicken meat. These agents travel from the hens to the eggs, making eggs a carrier and the new chicks are contaminated. Therefore, all chickens and eggs are bad. Just handling chicken meat would allow the cancer-causing salmonella to break the skin barrier and enter the body. Sorry to my chicken peeps.
I would like to point out that that is not how salmonella or skin work. Skin is our barrier to bad things. One should absolutely wash one’s hands before, during, and definitely after handling any raw meat or eggs. Salmonella can make you very sick if you eat raw eggs or meat or if you were to use your hands to eat food without washing them or rub your face without washing your hands. Good hygiene is important.
Salmonella does not contain DMSO or other skin absorbing agents.
Her statements about eggs and chickens were undermined by the fact that her houseplants all had eggshells in the pots.
She went on to speak about fellow researchers who had been killed by various governments. Mostly for cures, one for cleaning a river.
She spoke about going to Guatemala to help people. This is admirable. I can get behind helping those who are struggling. It’s really the only admirable thing about this whole experience.
After about 2.5 hours of hearing of her accomplishments, research on chickens, and murders, she finally turned her attention to me.
“What type of cancer do you have?”
“Metastatic breast cancer, stage IV.”
“Oh! That is fine. I have cured people with stage V breast cancer.”
There is no stage V breast cancer. For a researcher, she was lacking a lot of very basic knowledge. This comment infuriated me. I am at the end of the breast cancer spectrum. I do not like to be taken lightly.
X went on to explain how cancer starts in the body. “Cancer always starts in the brain. It then goes to the breast. It is a virus.”
So, admittedly, there is a lot that is unknown about cancer. Why it starts, for instance. There are a lot of thoughts: diet (chickens!!!!), environment, exposure to poisons and radiation, and more. Some of these have been proven as true.
What is not true is that comment on cancer starting in the brain. If it were, everyone with cancer would have metastatic brain cancer. My cancer started in my breast. Cancer is not a virus. Cancer cells are mutated cells. In my case, it mutated my breast cells. Those cancer cells then spread to my bones.
X insistently tells me, “The cancer virus then goes into your lymph nodes and can spread from there.” This was actually a true statement. She takes out a crystal to figure out where my cancer is in my breast. I was too dumbfounded by this point to tell her that my cancer was no longer in my breast. She made her own assumptions and was too intent on running with them.
“Ah! It is here and here.” She pointed to both sides of my left breast. Now, I had told her earlier that my cancer had started in my left breast and was not in my right breast. It wasn’t like she had to look too hard.
“And you did not have a mastectomy! Very good for you.” I decided not to tell her that a mastectomy would have been no help for me.
“I will now use energy to see your cancer better. This energy comes from God. I am not an evil witch.” Ok. So most of you know that I like crystals and energy. Multiple religions use them. Also, witches are neither good nor evil, just people.
“Oh. Your cancer has started to spread to your lymph nodes from your breast. It is very good at this moment, but it must be taken care of. However, your liver is not very good.” My cancer skipped right over the lymph nodes and went straight to my bones. The lymphs are clear, apart from the edema on my right side and that is just fluid that has started to drain to my heart to be filtered out. I had to learn how to massage that out – but that is a story for another day. She was actually spot on about my liver. My last treatment had failed miserably and I had many tumors on my liver. My new treatment seems to be working very well and I have high hopes that my next CT scan will show a prettier liver.
“I can get rid of your cancer and I have a cleanse that will help your liver.” I realized that she thought I had poisoned my liver with some heavy partying or something along those lines. It couldn’t be from my cancer that is “not that bad.”
“I will give you some instructions and you must follow them or it will not work. Are you willing to give up chemo to start my treatment?”
Me: “No. I am not willing to stop my chemo.” She was actually taken aback by my response. She had really thought I would do this. I guess she had spent a lot of time telling me why doctors are bad and maybe expected me to just be shepherded into her program. “Why do you think this chemo is working for you? You have said you have been on seven different chemos, why would you think it is working?” I told her that my labs tell me it is working. X responded, “What about scans? What would your scans say?” I told her that I had just had three sessions with my new treatment and was not ready for scans at this time.
She started to talk to my mother-in-law, B, instead of me. As if B could make me ditch the poison that is keeping me alive. She already made it clear that she thought I was stupid, now she was becoming downright disrespectful. She talked to B about her treatments that she would still give me copies of. However, I should not do them until my chemo treatments are done. “How many more treatments do you have with this chemo?” “Until it stops working.”
She was so frustrated by this point. She really does not have any true understanding of MBC. “Why have you been in treatments so long? Why are you on this chemo that has no end?” I was just quiet. She wouldn’t really listen to me, anyway. She was a “great researcher,” after all. I was a nobody who didn’t understand my own illness.
She gave me papers on her treatment. Yes, she treats all cancers in the same manner. Because all cancer starts in the brain, therefore it can all be treated in the same manner. I was to begin a vegan diet with all organic fruits and vegetables. For my liver, I was to fast for two days and use a cleanse made with distilled water and lots of lemons. Then do a coffee enema. This would also make me poop out the chemo and the cancer.
For anyone who might not know, I suffered from cancer-induced anorexia. It took a long time to get my eating back in order. I am not going to fast anytime soon. I don’t eat a lot of meat, but I depend on eggs and cheese for protein, especially in the morning. I will make vegan and vegetarian dinners, but I have no intention of becoming either. I have enough issues with not being able to taste food that I am not willing to give up the things that I can taste.
Coffee will never go up my ass. If you do the enemas, I don’t really care. I won’t.
We thanked her and left. After four hours. Poor B was so chilled that her Reynaud’s had turned her fingers purple. I told her she should have mentioned something and we could have left earlier. It was a relief to both of us to skedaddle.
The next day, she sent a text to my father-in-law, J. “I am so sorry that your daughter is not willing to stop the chemo that is poisoning her.” It was a very long text about my mistakes in believing and liking my oncologist, how I was being swindled into thinking the poison would save me, yet I had been on 7 chemos and none of them had worked. I should explain that I had said I had been on about 7 treatments, not all were chemo. She just didn’t listen to it.
I had realized as she was talking to me that she was displaying narcissistic tendencies with manipulative speaking. Speaking to my in-laws instead of to me really brought that into the light. She wanted them to believe her program would be better and she seemed to think they could convince me. I have my own mind and my own ideas. I have also done way more research on my own cancer than she has done on cancer at all.
I really was hoping for some decent alternative ideas that I could do along with my chemo. This was the most disappointing 4 hour experience of my life. At least I can tell stories of the Crazy Chicken Lady.
One of the hard parts of meeting people with a disease such as Stage IV Breast Cancer, is death. Thirty-one families were served at my retreat. Four of my sisters have passed since the Retreat. Gabriel has had a hard time with this. I told him it never gets easier.
Cassie Newman, February 16
Leah McDonald, February 21
Andrea Burch, February 22
Crystal Baird, March 4
I am so thankful that their families have the memories from this Retreat.
This was our extra day. We had breakfast. Max enjoyed cutting his grapes and watermelon.
We had taken the option to stay an extra day so we could go to Disney Hollywood Studios and fly the Millennium Falcon. It really was the only reason I wanted to go to that park, but we had a lot of fun. My brother met up with us and it was a laid back, easy day.
I wish I had gotten more videos of the storm troopers. If they saw a kid dressed as Kylo Ren or Darth Vader, they would call them Supreme Leader or Lord and ask them to come with them. I have no idea where they went.
If they came across someone dressed in a brown robe, they would halt them and ask for identification. It was pretty funny.
We flew the Falcon. It was everything I thought it would be. Jesse and I were pilots. Max and Sam were gunners. Two strangers were engineers. Max was not a very good gunner. He didn’t want to push the buttons for the first time in his life.
We had lunch in the Star Wars area. I had some sort of amazing falafel thing. I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant. We just kind of followed our noses.
Star Wars was just kind of everywhere. Even a little bit outside of the park. We went to the Indiana Jones show afterwards. It was so much fun. Even Max was captivated.
Admittedly, we didn’t go on a lot of rides or see many of the other shows. We didn’t stay for very long either. We were pretty exhausted from a very busy weekend. Ted, my brother, was okay with that as he had to drive back to Jacksonville that evening. Leaving early was a good thing.
While waiting for our Lyft driver, I managed to get a pretty nice picture of the sunset.
We left early the next day. It was a fantastic adventure, but we were happy to get home.