Dr. T is my GI doctor that I've never actually met. Dr. E (Surgeon #1) wanted to personally do the first colonoscopy, so Dr. T got the boot. The only difference between the two colonoscopies (besides the doctor) is drinking the fun juice. This appointment was basically to meet and prescribe the medication.
The one thing Fred and I noticed was how uncomfortable he seemed. We've noticed this with every first meeting of each new doctor. They don't seem to know how to handle someone my age having this particular cancer.
Dr. T must have thought I needed some hope. He kept telling us about a friend of his with the same cancer/same stage/same mets (older, of course) that is doing well over five years later with maintenance chemo. I think they expect me to be afraid, or nervous about the future.
What they don't know is that I've had an amazing life. Every new experience has perfectly prepared me for the next. The night before my dad passed, as he made his final transition, was the hardest thing I had ever experienced. Honestly, it left me terrified. I knew it was preparation for the next hardest thing, and what could be harder than watching someone you love pass away while being responsible for their care?
Well, here I am. Facing down the same disease. Knowing all the statistics (that I push to the back of my mind and ignore). Knowing what the end stage looks like. But also knowing wherever this experience takes me, I have the strength to push through. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. I entered this world made to be breakable, but repairable. And after everything I've been through, I like to think of myself as bendable.
"The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief."
-Shakespeare
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