Good energy

With all of the medical appointments I have been going to, I never made it for my post-chemo dental appointment. Some of you may know that when you are having chemotherapy you are not allowed to have dental work done due to the risk of infection. So I realized I needed to get in to see the dentist for not only my post chemo appointment, but also a pre-chemo appointment before the new rounds begin.

My dentist's office was really good and squeezed me into a cancellation the very next day. I was seeing a different hygienist, but that was fine as long as they could take me. So I had to update her on my medical history. Anytime I tell the story of still being in treatment for breast cancer and going in soon for colon cancer treatments, people just stop in their tracks and look at me. They don't know what to say after,"I am so sorry." There is nothing to say so I just try to move the conversation along. So Alison and I got along well chit chatting in-between rinses like you do when you are getting your teeth cleaned.

When we were all done she called the dentist to come in and check my teeth. The dentist comes into the room in a great mood and says, "So what is the good news in here?" The dental hygienist and I look at each other. I say laughingly, "Well, there is NO good news in here." The hygienist quickly tells the dentist I am there for a pre-chemo cleaning and I interjected the rest of the story.

The dentist's smiling face quickly turns to a look of concern and then she addresses me. She said, " I could hear you two laughing and talking during the appointment. I could feel such good energy. And I come in and find out what you are dealing with. I can't believe it. Usually I walk in to see a patient and sense negative energy and all they do is complain and it is all about nothing. You are amazing and I am sure your attitude will help you get through this." 

Little did I know she was over hearing us during the hour appointment and it made me feel good that she sensed good energy from me. I know I will only make it easier on myself if I stay as upbeat as I can, but it isn't easy. And I still allow for time to be sad and mad and wanting to get God on the phone right this minute!! The praying and meditating is taking too long to give me the answers I want! 

So I take in her compliment and allow it to make me feel good, really good. Every little thing that makes me feel good matters to me in a big way now.

So the two of them were standing there as I was getting up to leave. They didn't  quite know what to say, but I did. I said, "One day at a time, one foot in front of the other, chin up and all that jazz." 

I know my cliches!

It's not fair

I had a week to have it sink in that I needed chemotherapy again before I sat down with my oncologist. It was hard at first to take it in especially because there was such a good chance that all I needed would be the surgery to remove the tumor. I believed I would be OK and I had hundreds of people praying for me. 

So I moped around some at home and stayed as up beat as I could with friends and family. I have been through chemo before, I did pretty well, I know what to expect, I should be able to do this. I hoped that the number of rounds might be even less for this time around. I was the master of self positive talk all week.

Everything I hoped and prayed for went out the window during this appointment. First they called and said he wanted me to come at a different time so he could spend a longer time with me. Red flag. I cringed a little when the receptionist said that to me. Longer time? Why? I just want to know how many rounds, it should not take that long. Oh, dear.. I am going to get a curve ball. I can feel it.

So he comes in and tells me that I will need chemo. He didn't realize the surgeon told me already. He asked lots of questions about family history. There is no history of colon cancer in my family. I am the first one.  They want to do genetic testing. At first I cringe thinking more tests for me. But all they do is test the tumor.

The oncologist proceeds to tell me that I have stage III colon cancer (not early stage as the G.I. doctor thought.) I am going to need 12 cycles of chemo, every 2 weeks, for 6 months. Gulp. The side effects of the chemotherapy are a lot more intense than I had with the other chemotherapy. (Twice as many rounds as I had with the chemo for the breast cancer.)  I will need 3 days in the row to go into the hospital and have infusions then wear a pump at home over night for 2 nights.

He would give me the information a bit at a time, very slowly and calculated looking straight into my eyes. I sat up straighter and did not flinch. I saw no reason to say anything. In these situations there is nothing to be said. I could not wheel and deal my way out of it, I was backed up into a corner and the only way out is to submit. "I understand I have to suck this up," I said.  He looked at me and said, "It isn't fair. I hated coming in here to tell you this news. Usually it is the patient who says it isn't fair, and here I am telling you it isn't fair."

I don't think it is fair either, but stating it doesn't change a thing.