Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Best Laid Plans

 

Originally, I was going to comment about dreading this next round of chemo. My seventh.

I got sidetracked, I procrastinated, and too soon, time was up.

Certainly chemo isnt fun, and dont look forward to it, but this time I was actively dreading it. Given that I still havent healed from the last cycle, I had good reason, I think. :)

So off I go to get poisoned yet again, thinking along the way that this is nuts! The CAT scan showed that some of the lymph nodes were still enlarged. Okay. I can handle that, but John did say in an earlier phone conversation (Have I mentioned lately I love that guy? He calls, and calls back!) that there was a possibility that the enlargements could be essentially scar tissue.

So I’m thinking if it is, chemo isnt gonna do a damn thing except tear me down further, and if I had thought of it sooner, I’d have suggested doing the marrow biopsy now instead of after the last two treatments. Figured it was too late since I was already at the door, and quite forgot the end of my earlier conversation with John....

Never mind that I was particularly morose that day, having gotten bad news from SSD (Denied, the weebles) but I did tell John I was done with it, that I didnt want to play anymore, and eventually, after John’s gentle coaxing, that I’d think about it.

So when he asked me today if we were still going to do the chemo, meaning had I made up my mind, I was startled, because in my head I was only just then thinking about escaping. (Stupid chemo brain) :)

Point is, the guy put up with me, again.

When he came into the little room and sat down, I still had it in my head I’d have to do seven, and maybe escape eight at least, so when he offered to skip both, I sat up straight, and at the risk of sounding like a cliche, the world looked a bit brighter.

Yeah, okay, a helluva LOT brighter. :)

I’ve been told I’m pessimistic. Perhaps that’s true, although I prefer to think of it as pragmatic. The moniker doesnt really matter. What does is that I’m not going to ignore the probabilities as I understand them just to grab at possibilities.

Cant afford it, really. Hope is such a fragile flower, is it not?

 

So here’s the deal in a nutshell: On Thursday, the day after tomorrow, I go in for a bone marrow biopsy. That’s the big needle sucking blood out of my hip bone. Yikes! Would have done it today but the practitioner left early, twenty minutes prior when she threw out her back. Double Yikes! (Proof enough when I told John that if there was any way the universe could kick me, it would, and yeah, I was really *excited* to get the biopsy done ASAP, despite the needle.

So... If the results of that test are clear, it means the lumps are scars and I’m a done deal. I go on what John calls surveillance. Presumably periodic testing to see if the cancer comes back. (Remember that this type has a *history* of coming back. Please keep that in mind to avoid crushing that fragile flower I mentioned, just in case.) :)

If the results are not clear, then we start proceedings for a marrow transplant (Autologous, not donor) I’m assuming there’ll be some sort of recovery period between now and then. It’s a hairy assed procedure from what I’ve read.

Either way, whatever happens next, one thing is crystal clear:

I am DONE with the effing chemo, and right now, with a crash pending (I can feel my arms getting heavy) i still feel like it’s a snow day from school and I am high as a kite, sans drugs.

 

Whoo hoo!