Random Sister Update

I spend last week visiting my lily-livered sister.  When I bought my plane ticket last month, I figured by the time I got there, she'd be worn out from the chemo, and I would  be spending most of my time cleaning the house and trying to get her to eat something.
I couldn't have been wronger (it's a word, trust me).  Not only does she feel NOT sick, but she has energy and an appetite.  The only thing she doesn't have is hair.  Her head is Mr. Clean all the way.  In fact, I thought she looked odd because she didn't have his earring to match.

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Our eldest sister created a special a card for her.  It's laminated, and on one side is the word, "Cancer".  On the other side, it reads, "Be nice to me."  Any time she feels she deserves a little extra consideration, or if something is too hard, or if she is too tired, she is supposed to flash this card.
Playing the cancer card, you see.

We got plenty of milage out of it.
She couldn't remember which day it was.  "I blame the chemo."
Put the remote in the fridge? (And hey, who of us hasn't done that?)  "It's the cancer."

Plus, her husband is Polish, so they are a real hoot.
"I have cancer, what's your excuse?"
"I'm Polish!"
"Okay.  You win."

***

Each day, she wore a different hat that I had made.
::warm fuzzy::

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At some point early in the treatment process when my sister was feeling anxious, she laid down for a nap.  Her cat curled up on her stomach and settled rather oddly on the liver area.  "Well, okay," thought my sister, "that's not terribly comfortable, but it's not bad."
Then, the cat stretched out a paw and gently placed it just above my sister's left breast; right over her chemo port.
My sister immediately relaxed and felt at peace.

Good kitty.

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My sister is taking part in a world-wide trial.  Apparently, 88 other people in the world have what she's got. Split into two groups, Group A gets three drugs, Group B gets two.  As her doctor expressed great faith in that third drug Group A would get, we had all hoped she be placed in Group A.  But, she's not.
However, after her post-treatment scan came back with good results, I told my sis that the "super mystery drug" that Group A was getting that Group B isn't getting is probably a cat.
"What?"
"A cat.  They get your two drugs, plus a cat that lies on their stomach.  Like yours did.  You have a medicinal cat.  You have a Group A cat."

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And here's the good news you were waiting for.  I saved it for last because it really is that good.

After only two of her six scheduled treatments, the baseball-sized tumor has shrunk 50%.  The little tumors ("tumors all over") are smaller, too.
Treatment number four is this coming Monday, and she'll get another scan to measure progress maybe a week or so later.

I have to tell you...
I could really believe she's gonna kick this thing. 
I can't wait to see what the next scan brings.