Sure I've learned holding these updates in doesn't help, though it hasn't stopped me from attempting. But in true Festivus fashion, it's time to send this one out into the abyss. After another round of scans, the results came back last Monday. Overall it's good news, my liver and lungs are great. No new growth on any secondary locations that have been treated.
The bad: I have three lymph nodes in my abdomen that have grown. At this point Dr. H feels like we're on the chase, and would like to see if we can get ahead. In January, I'll be going to Emory Winship Cancer Institute to see if they have any innovative treatments/clinical trials that I can join. This means it's likely I'll be back on chemo next year.
There it is.
The abyss.
I don't think I've fully processed the news. In all honesty there are so many other things I'm mentally processing, the chemo prospect isn't as upsetting as other dreams cancer has effectively ended. I plan. I prepare. I don't do unexpected. So while I celebrated the end of chemo, I knew it was likely I would start another cycle of the spider juice.
You run into a lot of people prefer you go into scans with expectations of an all clear, as if that is going to stop cancer. Look. No one respects the power of words more than myself, but if I didn't have this mindset, I'm pretty sure I'd turn into the weird lady that that talks to herself and pets the carpet. For those managing chronic illness, everyone manages stress and anxiety differently so do what works best for you!
It took everything we had to manage a chemo routine locally. I could feel the stress radiate off Fred as he processed the prospect of having to get me to/from Emory University once (possibly twice) a week. And I can't help but feel at fault. I am the burden. He would never say that, but I know. This is the evil side of having been a caregiver and now the patient. I wouldn't have called caring for Daddy a burden either; but when he passed, people could physically see a weight had been lifted. So I know...there's a weight there. I am that weight.
Going forward, nothing is official until we meet with Emory. And you guys know how I feel about Emory, or the prospect of another hospital stay at Emory. If this meeting doesn't go well, there's a chance we'll get a second opinion at MD Anderson Piedmont. The only reason we're going to Emory first is because they already have my medical records.
Much is up in the air, but I'm going to try to get ahead and as prepared as possible. Most pressing I will need help getting to/from treatments and appointments. For everyone that's asked how they can help, this will be our greatest need this cycle. If you would be available for transportation (even if for only a day or 1-way), send me a Facebook PM. I'll probably create a private FB group to keep everyone updated and organized. We are located in Peachtree Corners and anticipating treatment will be Emory University or **fingers crossed** Emory John's Creek. We generally try to schedule treatment Monday/Tuesday because that guarantees I'll have one good weekend.
Prayers: Guide this new doctor to the right treatment. If clinical trial, pray there is an open spot. If chemo, pray the infusion can be completed at Emory John's Creek. Pray for my volunteers. This chemo thing can be overwhelming, so give them peace and strength to manage me (I'm a handful). Pray for Fred. When there is crazy at work and home, there is little refuge. Give him strength and an outlet to find peace.
Note: This has not changed our plans to attend 2017 Call on Congress. They are extremely cognizant that some of their attendees are mid-treatment or just completed treatment, and will work around my needs.
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