Wednesday, January 9, 2008
And it all comes back to me....
chemo sucks. And now, it is compromising the continued healing of my tail end if you know what I mean. Monday and Tuesday were fine and, thus far, Wednesday stinks, but you all know that, so on to other things. On Monday, when I met with the oncologist before treatment, I clarified what the goal of the next four to six treatments was. Since my pelvis is clean (how could it not be especially after radiation!), my assumption was that we were now seeing how far the chemo can help my lungs. I was correct and here is the plan. After the chemo is completed (or my body can't do it anymore), we will do another PET scan to see if the masses in my lungs remain. Then, based on what they know then, they will decide to 1) let it ride and see what happens with regular monitoring; 2) surgically remove the remains of the masses if there are still cancer cells; or 3) surgically remove the masses even if the masses don't show cancer on the PET scan and biopsy them to see if cancer is still present. Then, with any luck, we will take the break I was promised. He told me that typically people with this advanced stage of cancer will have it come back and then we will treat it again; however, there are those people that "hit a home run" and the cancer does not return. He continued to say that every oncologist has those "hit a home run" patients, but (obviously) he can not say that I will be one of them, but he did say that typically the home run patients are ones that have had a fabulous response to initial treatments like myself. So, after I decided what role in politics my oncologist should go into due to his mastery of saying everything and yet saying nothing, I decided that I would like to order the "home run" patient from them menu. Unfortunately, I then asked him exactly how long would it take my bum to completely heal from radiation. He said, "It can take two to four months." FABULOUS. Just to give you an idea it has taken me 45 minutes to write this, I have sat down, stood up, moved around a lot, just got out of the bath tub, will now be returning to the bath tub....fun times. Hopefully, I will be better by tomorrow when my precious boys come home. Mason is starting big boy swim lessons tonight. These will be the first ones without my Dad or me in the pool with him. My Dad is taking him since I will be getting unhooked from my cancer wand then. I have learned to accept that I am not going to be at all the first things for Mason and especially Nolan, but I am sure lucky that I have my parents and so many friends that will and relish them with my boys. They are two pretty lucky kids. It is so hard to let go sometimes, but you learn to, and you learn that they will be alright without you. Mason has gotten really good at telling me about all of his adventures. It is really sweet how he tells me his stories about his friends, falling down, hurting himself, playing trains, etc. I love those moments - I feel like I am there with him, I kiss his boo boos, and that is all I need. Here is to tomorrow, Ang
Posted by Angela Clarno at 11:48 AM