al-righty my sweet friends who read this blog. I had a treatment today and I had a dream last night that my CA-125 would be 45 then in the dream I reread the number and it was 145. So I went into this treatment actually feeling hopeful. I talked with Dr. Cloven, and that usually makes me feel better. I had about 5 pages of questions to ask, because I have made a promise to my Maa that I will avoid looking to the internet for answers. So I unleashed the litany on Dr. Cloven...
"will I be on Chemo forever?
"Why do my hands and feet go to sleep and then wake up like I have lit them on fire?"
"Have we ruled out remission as a goal?"
"Why did it feel like someone was trying to pull my spine through my skin on Black Friday as I trued to enjoy a day of shopping?"
"Yes...probably with a few chemo holidays...like weeks, or maybe months without a treatment."
"Probably residual neuropathy from the past chemo drugs...it could take years to resolve."
"Well you are technically in a clinical remission, because you are asymptomatic, but we know there are cancer cells present...and we probably will never get rid of all of them."
"Maybe it was your marrow trying to create new white blood cells...shrug."
So I go on my merry way to chemo...just knowing I am going to get a CA-125 that is so much lower than last time. When I realize that I am almost finished with my infusion I ask my mom to get my labs for me. I wait about 10 minutes...in truth I doze off a little...when I wake up my mom is nowhere to be found and I have almost drained my saline bag. As I am being disconnected my Mom comes back in...I can tell by her face that she's been crying. She places the paper on my side table and I read the number...469. Really up another 150 points from last round? WTH! I know there are a ton of drugs out there and we WILL find one that works...but I just got a call from my doctor and she wants me to try at least one more round of this drug. I mean I trust her and she has always done great things for me...but the thought of subjecting myself to 3 more weeks of a drug that my cancer cells scoff at seems pointless to me. I don't want the nerd of all drugs that gets a swirly from my cancer cells...I want to send in the quarterback...the mean huge...quarterback bully...that will stomp the hell out of the renegade cells and send them packing.
Oh well 1mt1mt...I can do this...maybe this drug is a slow starter...maybe next time my number will be 145. All I can say for sure is...Today...I am above ground...and that in itself is something to be thankful about. I met a man today who had the ENTIRE right lobe of his brain removed because of tumors....that was 15 years ago and he is still here. After that surgery they didn't expect he would live a year and he is going to see his son graduate from high school. When someone asked him how he was doing he said...
"Well, I'm above ground...so it's a good day."
I think I need to adopt that mantra...I'm above ground so today is good.
to the moon and back my friends,
picture of the day: