First off, I just have to say CURSE YOU HELLO KITTY DIARY! I’m pretty sure that I was falling trap to my old style of “Dear Diary, I don’t have anything to say, so bye!” It seems the universe has other plans for me, though. More ass-kicking plans. I’m gearing up for another fight here. And apparently I have a lot to say about it.
Let me back up just a little. I had actually been working on a post which was all about
just complaining feeling like I don’t have time or room for cancer in my life. I didn’t even have time to finish the post, which, yes, like much of my life, is rather ironic. (Don’t ya think? Yes, Alanis Morrisette is running through my head now. Awesome. But I did finish the post, even though it was late. See below.)
Anyways. About 2 weeks ago I started having a nagging headache. Nothing terrible, all perspective, didn’t even take advil for it. But it was there every morning when I woke up and the usual cure of sleep didn’t help a bit. At first, I blamed a hangover (yep, that’s still how I roll), then allergies, then ovulation (my brother David is sooo grossed out right now), then stress, then not drinking enough water… you get it. So, finally I called in. The nurse said that they weren’t particularly worried, but that since they would likely have me do a brain scan soon, they would do one now just to set my mind at ease.
(Dark foreshadowing music here.) I went TODAY at noon. The tech was super nice, no issues. She said they would have the report to my oncologist around 1:00 p.m. At 1:07, the secretary called to say that “HE” needed to see me right away and I should come at 4:40. Ummm, okay. THEN, when I was
trying not to stress out shopping at Costco (because, oh yeah, I have kids that like to eat), his nurse called to say that I should make sure not to come alone. WHAT???? This is the same man that I know I have driven crazy (even though he is much too nice to ever admit it although he kinda has) with a room full of people. And now he WANTS me to come with people??? Hmmm. I’m no rocket scientist, but…
So, I went with people. My mom and other mom (for those of you that don’t know my family, I mean my mom and step-mom… I don’t have 2 mommies in THAT way, not that there is anything wrong with that) were in the room with me, when the door opened, in came my doctor… AND THE SOCIAL WORKER!!! Are you with me, peeps? Would you have the same reaction? Cuz I have gotten a LOT of bad news, but that is the first time the social worker (who is totally delightful, by the way, and none of this is a reflection on her) has been there. I think I blurted out, “Oh wow, you must have REALLY bad news for me!”
And he did. At least I know I’m supposed to think that. The fucking cancer has metastasized to my brain now. Seems like that is pretty much a glass half-empty thing. I love my oncologist, who I can only hope is having a big ol’ giant martini with a whole bunch of pepperoncinis tonight. But, seriously… I already knew I had stage 4 cancer… is this *that* shocking? And the glass-half-full is now I’ll get to DO something about it. I’m ready to fight like hell. BRING IT.
So, here we go again. Brain radiation starting tomorrow, and then we’ll follow it up immediately with a systemic chemo. I may be ineligible for clinical trials now, but with results coming soon on the genetic testing, I am still hopeful that there will be something.
Damnit, my hair was just starting to look like a girl again and was ALMOST cute. I’ll probably shave it off this weekend – head radiation causes some craaaazy hair loss-patterns and I don’t think I want to deal with it.
I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but I did tell the cubs. Man, do I love those little ones. They only experience cancer as I do, so I like to think that I am teaching them to be strong, not give up, and to make the most of the hand you are dealt. (GREAT. Now I have Kenny Rogers and “The Gambler” stuck in my head!”)
I was worried the appearance of the social worker meant “the talk” was coming. I *NEED* to know that my doctors aren’t giving up on me – that they will help me keep fighting. My doctor swore in front of the witnesses this wasn’t the case, and that there is a lot of room here to still do some ass-kicking (my word, not his).
So, saddling up! Here we go!
And, Cancer? You listening? You picked on the wrooooooong momma bear. FUCK YOU!