After some big sighs of relief that I seemed to be weathering my third chemo infusion better than my first two, last week turned on me and kicked me in the ass. First, everyone in the house but me and our pug came down with lice. Louse-iest Monday ever.

I woke up anxious to start chasing several deadlines at work and instead spent the day washing and drying load after load of laundry and stuffed animals while Sean and the kids got their heads rid of those nasty buggers at a lice-annihilating salon. Thank goodness the pros at Lice Knowing You know their stuff. (They better for the pretty penny they charge for their services!)

Next on the list of health dramas besides mine: Pepper had to see a veterinary internist the next day to find out if she had some underlying kidney disease that's causing her recurring urinary tract infections. Yep, she's on her third UTI in two months, poor girl. The good news: It appears to be a garden-variety kidney infection, one that likely started out as a UTI then wandered its way into her kidney. She's now on a longer course and stronger dose of antibiotics. Fingers, toes and paws crossed she's back to her good, old healthy self soon. By Wednesday morning I started feeling crummy — more drained and nauseous than since this whole thing started. At my worst, the mere thought of any food made my stomach turn. At my best, I muddled through, noshed on this and that, while struggling to stay hydrated because drinking water kept triggering a yucky metallic taste that I'd only experienced briefly during my first round of chemo. After resting for most of the day (and whimpering when I wasn't resting), I felt better on Thursday. And better yet on Friday — just in time to skip town for a weekend getaway to Port Orchard with some dear college friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in years. Props to Stephanie Soler for rallying us and finding an awesome beachfront vacation rental — and to Karina Arambula, Emily Dossett DiMassa, Mary Beth Ficklin, Rachel Timbie Heimstra and Priscilla Wu for flying in for a weekend that we all wished could've lasted at least couple, few more days. Still, we took advantage of every minute, stayed up late talking about our lives, politics, great books, our must-see TV fixes, laughing, getting misty-eyed a time or two.

We took some silly trips down memory lane from our freshman dorm at Stanford, enjoyed a leisurely hike through a state park and dined on some scrumptious seafood and crème brûlée on the house at Amy's on the Bay for the three birthday girls among us (Rachel, Steph and Mary Beth). As we hugged our good-byes, we all started looking forward to our next getaway — when cancer will be a rat-bastard speck in my rearview. I get a couple bonus days with Mary Beth, who will keep me company during round 4 of chemo. It'll be the last round with the big, bad "red devil" adriamycin/cytoxan cocktail, the hardest-hitting of my chemo drugs. My docs tell me that the 12 weekly rounds of taxol I'll start in late October should be gentler on my system. The main side effect is numbness/tingling in my fingers and toes. Nausea and fatigue, not so much. Sounds lovely. My brother, who's visiting us soon along with my 16-year-old niece, was especially happy to hear that the worst phase of chemo is almost over. If you're not in my Facebook world and haven't seen me brag about him, read the column he wrote for Memphis Magazine: "For My Sister (And Yours) ... Like it or not, we're all in the fight against breast cancer." Sean's sister, Jennifer, will pay us a visit after Frank and Sofia ... then Sean's folks will join us for Thanksgiving ... then Frank and my mom will spend Christmas with us. There's a chance Mom and Frank will be here for my very last chemo infusion, which will happen on or the day before New Year's Eve if all goes according to schedule. What a cause for celebration that will be.