Mysticism

Sometimes, I wonder if every little annoyance in my body indicates cancer elsewhere, or a side effect of the treatment, or a side effect of a drug that gets rid of side effects. Like now--itchy heels. Why do I have itchy heels? Or that stretching feeling in my abdomen? Or the unending tension in my temples. If I'm paranoid, I'm a hypochondriac. If I ignore the symptoms, I could end up sorry and regretful.

I keep saying the word "mysticism" when I think to myself about cancer because it seems that's what it comes down to. What do I believe in, hope for, am willing to do?

Waiting Game

I've gotten a number of emails from friends wondering what the latest is....which is, I'm waiting. The first clear open appointment to receive chemo is August 23rd. My trial nurse, rightfully so, thinks that's too long to wait. So I'm put on a waiting list everyday, which means that any day now, I will get the call to go in and start treatment. She said that last Friday and this Tuesday looked like the best days (Monday, tomorrow, is a holiday here), but I still haven't gotten a call for any day. We're keeping our fingers crossed.

I had another core biopsy on Thursday, so that the cancer agency could have a baseline sample before the chemo starts. This procedure seemed more brutal than the core biopsy I had at Women's Hospital. Two differences I noticed: a scalpel was used to cut into my skin to insert the "needle," which actually looked as big as a screwdriver to me. I didn't notice a scalpel being used the last time, and the needle used last time actually looked like a needle (a long one). I'm not sure if I just didn't notice this the last time, or if the procedure was really different because they need a bigger sample from the tumor. In any case, there was also a lot more blood and tenderness this time around. My friend Emily went with me since Henry had to go to a press conference. Thankfully, her dad is a vet [the kind that doctors animals, not the kind that was in a war], so she was pretty much unfazed (or at least, she appeared to be).

I'm also getting set to see a naturopath as part of a complementary treatment to the chemo. I'm not sure if this is allowed since I'm on a trial, but I will call and ask the nurse tomorrow. My friend Shirley helped me with this, as her brother is a well respected naturopath. I'm very excited, and hope that this is all kosher with the trial. I want to do everything I can to keep my energy at a reasonable level while on chemo, as well as maintain my health as best as possible.

"Order + No Order = Still No Order"

I woke up still sobbing from my dream. In the dream I was playing a simple game of softball with friends----Henry, people from CCHS (Colleen, Hayne, Jan), some other professors types, friends from college. They were playing kind of half-assed. I wasn't sure what my position was, or when it was my turn to pitch because people were just moving around. When I asked some people if they knew what they were supposed to do, they said yes and told me what their job was. Others said, who cares? We're just having fun. I got fed up and started shouting, "You can't have it like this! You kinda have order but don't. Order plus no order is still no order! It's mathematical!" And I ran from the game.

I stood on top of a hill overlooking water. I saw my friend Mae talking with some others: my cousin Teresa whom I hadn't seen in a while, people from grad school. She saw me, but I didn't want to see her. I just started crying into my hands, feeling excluded and alone. Mae started walking toward me, and that's when I woke up sobbing, with my shirt soaked through with sweat.

In real life on Friday, I called my friend Mae but she wasn't there, so I called Irene. I told her how useless I've been feeling lately. I have several projects that I'm in the middle of and trying to finish, but during the day I just feel like sleeping. I haven't been sleeping much during the night (except for now, because doc gave me some pills), so during the day, I'm pretty mopey and tired. Irene said it must be hard for a Type A gal like myself to come to terms with the huge potential that for a chunk of time, I have to chill out and rest. I'm the ultimate multitasker and juggle all sorts of stuff. Plus, I take care of my family, so to have to accept someone having to take care of me is a huge challenge.

The dream is an obvious one in which I'm freaking out from having to lose control. It is true--half-assed order, to me, is still no order.

Last night, my friend Jamie made a surprise visit from Seattle. I was one of the MC's at Rhizome Cafe's first anniversary party, and while I was at the mic, Jamie walked in the door, so it was so nice to see him! I really need to see a friend now! He and I talked for a while about my treatment options. He's lost several people in his family to various types of cancer, so he knows a little about the lingo and world of the big C.

I'm worried about the trial treatment. Basically, I have to live six more months with the cancer before surgery since I start off with chemo. The question is, why not do the surgery first? Why not try to cut out that shit before doing chemo, like they usually do? One of the reasons the doc said was because this way, I get the really good chemo, the extra medicine, because it's part of the trial. She also said that this way, any microinvasion would be targeted and hopefully got rid of. So I need to do chemo first so they can measure the size of the cancer as I'm getting the chemo (one of the main things about the trial--a trial isn't the standard treatment; a trial is like an experiment in other words--they're researching something, and I'm part of the research, while receiving treatment).

But it's the lymph node that's most worrisome. Even though my lymph node biopsy came back negative, it's still obviously swollen with something and they want to take it out. I wish they would take it out now and test it rather than wait six months. If the lymph node has cancer, that's bad--that means that it's trying to spread to the rest of my body. So if one of my lymph nodes shows possible invasion now, can they please take that motherfucker out???

I don't like feeling helpless. Jamie asked me if I have any instinct about which route to go (chemo first or surgery first), and I don't. I feel like here, I don't have a preference (other than taking the node out asap), nor do I feel sufficiently informed to have an opinion, so I'm just leaving it to the experts. But of course, I don't feel right about that, especially since I kinda feel all guinea piggish.

No Order.

4 hours and counting. . .

til I eat the apple of knowledge at my first oncologist appointment. I've had the weebles in my stomach ever since I woke up. Last night's sleep wasn't great. I took two of those tiny Atavin pills and felt whoozy, but I couldn't actually fall asleep. So I stayed in that half-state of sleep that sucks--where one part of your brain wants to shut 'er down for the night, but the other part that's assigned to freaking out is freaking out. Sucked.

My kid Mylo is feeling my elbow right now. He has this thing where he likes to feel elbows when the arm is straight and the skin is loose. It's kinda freaky, but it makes him feel better. He has a big grin on his face.

Fucking cancer. Whatever it is, it will die!!!