Reprieve!

I have been set free.  I have been given a little reprieve - and I am still smiling over it all.

Just for a month, but it still feels good.  My daily radiation treatments for six weeks were slated to start the first week of December - just three weeks out from my last chemo.  I met with my new doctor, the Radiology Oncologist, Dr. White, and the appointment between her and talking with her "fellow", lasted over two and a half hours.

I have more knowledge about radiation now than when I first set up the OSHA manual at work years and years ago.

Being too quirky honest at times, I told her up front I came into this appointment with my insides kicking and screaming.  I don't want radiation.  It's going to hit my heart some.  It's going to hit 30% of my left lung and leave some scar tissue behind.  It's going to contribute to heart disease with problems with the arteries in the vicinity.  I knew all that walking into the appointment, and she confirmed it all and more, and I just sat there.

She is very straight-forward and doesn't mince words, and asked me after explaining all of that "why don't you want to do this?"  I laughed because of the obvious and told her that I knew this radiation would turn around and bite me in the ass in twenty years.

She told me it might, but first let's. just. get. to. twenty. years.  She again went over the nature of my disease, the staging, the risks, and said "better twenty years than four, hmmm??" with one eyebrow raised.

She said I'm young, (smile inside, yes I did) I'm relatively healthy considering my past year or more, and this will give me an even more 10-15% chance of non-recurrence.

She also said that she has been published as "the doctor that doesn't treat unnecessarily"  meaning just because you have one type of cancer she doesn't automatically throw you into radiation treatment without looking over everything, everything and then making that decision.

After looking over everything, and noting some "misses" that I should have had done at the very beginning, and the fact that I missed my last Taxol treatment, she said she wants me "in".

I had one foot in.

Then she said my oncologist's new "fellow", had noted another round of Taxol for me after radiation - and nothing else in this appointment brought every cell in my body to rapt, focused attention in that exam room faster than that one word.  I told her it was a new fellow and that was probably a mistake as I'VE HAD SIX MONTHS OF TAXOL - like how much more can my damaged nerve endings take of that stuff??!!!

I also reminded her that they had just kindly tried to kill me with three months of their latest healing kindnesses and I was sure my liver could not take anymore.

She just kind of waved her hand like that's between you and your oncologist, but noted that maybe doing the radiation would null and void any further need of "that stuff".

Oh they are naughty-good sales people there........

I jumped.  Both feet, full body.

Then she gave me the month off.  I think mostly because after I told them proudly that I drove myself that day, they looked at me and considered the safety of the roadways, and gave me an extra four weeks.

But in all reality, it seems to be more about "missing days".  She's not a huge fan of that.  In fact, if we have a blizzard, I think I will pack a suitcase and hang out in the lounge after she explained the importance of it all.

She said she doesn't like me missing any days after I start, and as a rule they close for two days at Christmas and one day at New Years, plus they all have an "everything breast cancer convention" to attend for three days the first week of December, so that knocks out a lot of days right off the bat.

And...... there is also that little problem of hubby needing a surgery for his gall bladder which we are desperately hoping happens in December as he has had three more pretty severe attacks since he got home from the hospital and we are not sure how long he can go without eating as everything seems to bring on an attack.

I told him it's like being at the bowling alley -- as soon as one stone drops down into the duct and clears after pain meds and clear fluids for 24 hours -- another one lines up to drop down.  He must have a gall bladder full of them, which is what his doctor mentioned.

Oyi.

So I officially start my six weeks of radiation January 2nd.  Also known as the six worst driving weeks of the year in northern Ohio.

Another reason we are waiting and causing more trips to Columbus is that with the last chemo treatment, my arm "seized" up again.  I could hardly straighten it out one morning....... so even though I have been working with it a lot and have made great strides, she said the "cording" that stretches from my elbow to my lower chest wall "has to go", or I'll never be able to do the long setup appointments.  (I think I could have)  I'm not sure why it happened as my arm had become pretty loose and working after physical therapy and my late-started-home-exercises before, and they are not sure why it happened, but it has happened and there is something that feels like a tight rope in there still....  She set me up with some PT appointments again.

Ode to lymph node removal......

***

Heidi stayed overnight last week with me, and noticed something about my closet.  It has collapsed.

Literally.

The morning that we were leaving early for my second chemo treatment, I reached in to get a sweater - and the whole two racks just collapsed.  There's a lot of stuff in there - I haven't rotated out seasonal clothes for over a year, I've been pulling out bigger sizes while I was swollen the first six months of chemo, then adding in smaller sizes, so it was working out to be the perfect storm.

Or the perfect collapse.

Which was fine - I mean you get to a point in life where that is just something that happens - not a life changing event.  We were in a hurry, had to leave, closed the doors and that's the way it has been for a while with neither of us not feeling all that well.  I've been wearing mostly sweats and sweatshirts anyways, so it wasn't like I was needing to get in there.

But Heidi saw it.  And her husband decided to fix it when they stopped through over the weekend.

And I got a bonus - as we were pulling all the clothes out to enable them a chance to get work space, Heidi said "whoa, mom, there's like too many clothes in here".

And that was how my clothing intervention started.  She's pretty tough.  When they were young, I had  a few closet rules:  "If you haven't worn it in a year, it goes."  Another one was, "if we buy it, you have to wear it five times".

Let's just say, sometimes life comes full circle.  If I had a dollar for every time she asked me one of those questions that day, my retirement fund would be rebuilt.  She filled up her car with the clothes, then took them to a second hand store in Columbus, and get this - SOLD THEM!!

But it was a solid day of work, with Heidi doing the brunt of it and also Wes and Scotty and Scott working on the closet repair, and it felt so good.

I have to be honest, it has been a long time since my house has had my intense organizational skills focused onto it alone.  I mean, a long, long time.

Plus, we have a lady coming in and doing the bathrooms and dusting and such for us every several weeks.  Anticipating her coming in, makes me look at our house through different eyes, and I am like, it's time to unload.  It's time to reorganize.  It's time to cleanse oneself of all built up "stuff".

So I kind of cleaned out the hall closet.  And even gave away three comforters.  I gave away a set of dishes - which is not a whole lot as I have quite a dish "fetish" if you will.

But it feels good to look around, and start to think about something else other than chemo and such.

***

We were feeling pretty bad Thanksgiving week.  Scott had been in the hospital for a couple of days, I was not feeling top of the world and this was the year our kids all go to their in-laws for Thanksgiving, then will be here for Christmas.

We were ok with it all, and in fact, neither one of us felt up to cooking even.  Then that evening Scotty walked in the front door with a roasted duck on a platter that any magazine cover would envy - roasted duck, roasted veggies all around it and dressing.

It was a thing of beauty.

We shared our mashed potatoes, and just cried a little, thinking how blessed we were.  I felt halfway bad because the girls were all dressed up and yelled "Happy Thanksgiving" when they got to the door.

We all said what we were thankful for in prayer before the meal.  Scott ate gently.

It was the best Thanksgiving ever - we didn't plan it, we didn't think anything of event could happen that day, but Scotty and Leila and Chloe and Zoe brought a lot of joy into the lives of two very "bilious" feeling people that evening.  

And you should have tasted his cranberry sauce..........  

***

So all in all, one of life's greatest ironies is being played out at our house this week - I suddenly have a strong desire for a Panera Bread salad - and Scott who loves all things eating out - couldn't go and take a bite without causing all kinds of painful alarms to go off in his body.  

We keep looking at each other and say "you do what you gotta do to get where you need to be".....  he stuck pretty close by me this past year and has been quite easy on my stomach, so I am sneaking things during the day -- like today I had my first roast beef sandwich in maybe a whole year.  It was pretty tasty.  So as my sense of taste comes back, I only indulge it in secret.

I do feel so blessed to be coming back to the land of the living - I have spent too much time laying flat out in bed.  

This Sabbath day, we are feeling blessed.