Before I forget: I made two new info pages, Coping & Surgery Decisions. If you know anyone who could use them, feel free to send them over!
Back to the latest. So...party's over. I've had a relaxing, calming, rejuvenating, back-to-normal 3-week break from surgery and treatment. But yesterday, my oncologist confirmed I'll be returning to the chemo chair, or bed, which I prefer. Not being picky or anything. I'd also prefer NOT TO HAVE TO DO MORE CHEMO. I told everyone under the sun that I wasn't done enduring the disgusting drugs; that having chemo on the "backend" (as the docs call it) was all part of the original plan. There had been, from day one, only a small chance of me skipping it. Truthfully? I got my damn hopes up. I thought since they'd achieved clean margins and my node was clean as a whistle that maybe, just maybe, I could go right into radiation and I could be done with everything by Christmas. A Christmas Miracle! When my oncologist told me this was not the case, I cried a little in front of him, for the first time. Tears don't flow too easily at Dana-Farber, because you feel so cared for and secure in their confidence and experience. My tears usually come on the ride home, when the realism hits me, when I start to worry about being too sick to go into work after already having had a break, or I think of losing the hair on my head again that had just started growing back to the point I could see color. Thankfully, this time the tears didn't last too long because I realized, Fine. If we need this last blast of assurance that they're wiping this out of me, then I'll do it. And I won't ever have to look back and think: maybe I should have had more...just to be sure... I am grateful it's 8 weeks instead of 12. It's four dose-dense treatments instead of 12 in a row, like last time. I'll get a week to recover in between treatments. These drugs (AC) cause more nausea, so I will need to stay on top of that, and I've been told to "get ready to sleep" while at the same time, "you won't be able to sleep from the steroids." Sweet. Huge thank you to a couple friends who gave me gift cards to Green Light; I will be drinking ginger-infused juices and smoothies like it's going out of style. What I'm not feeling is desolation, or hopelessness, or too much anxiety, which I've been swallowed by in the Past. Now, it's a resolve to get through the next 2 months, then a 3-week break, and then radiation through early January. Then, then, 2017 is going to be my year. I just know it.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
|
Archives
August 2020
October 2019
June 2019
April 2019
March 2019
November 2018
September 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
January 2016
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
March 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
January 2014
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013