Monthly Archives: January 2016

Dilemma

Yesterday was my first scan after my horrible one in September. Since then (as I hope you have read), I have changed many different things in regards to my treatment and lifestyle. Yesterday was the day to see if all that has paid off.

40 minutes before my appointment with my surgeon my mother and I were relaxing in the hospital Second Cup when I felt a pat on the head. Dr. Jay in his scrubs and what seemed to be fresh out of surgery. So now in rough quotes is what we discussed:

“Oh hello! I can just quickly update you now but then I would like to see you next week once the radiologist gives me his report on your scans. They were good, really good actually. From what I can tell they all have shrunk and some have disappeared even. I think there are 4 left on your lung and 2 on your liver? All of them seem to be superficial as well. I want to wait for the report and speak to Dr.Ko, but we might be able to get rid of them for you.”

This moment was mixed – happiness obviously that everything is working, but confusion and another feeling I have yet to name. 

“Surgery? So you can remove them laparoscopicly?”

“Ha ha no. I have hacked at your liver so many times I would need a full visual.”

“So you want to cut. Cut me down my front. Again. For the third time….. I don’t know about this. I was so weak and my body will have to recover and that could make everything worse.”

“I know it is a lot to think about. I didn’t think we would be here again either to tell you the truth. Hell when I first met you I saw your scan I can honestly say I never thought you would be in my office again. But you suprised me then and again you are suprising me today. Let’s be honest. You have stage 4 cancer. I can cut it out and the chance of reoccurance is still high. What this could do though is buy you some time off of chemo, so you can have a some what regular life.”

“If you want me to consider this then next week you better have an amazing game plan. Something like you are going to cut this shit out and then pay for me to go to Jamaica.”

He laughed. “I’ll come up to visit you during chemo next week and we will chat.”

So I am sure most of you are thinking – “YAY! Cut that shit out!” And now I will explain to you in short form (as my mind is running a mile a minute) the dilemma in my head.

Scenario 1: We operate. – I would not only have to heal my front AGAIN I would also have incisions from my lung which would mean a chest tube AGAIN. So how am I sleeping? Not on my stomach, my sides or my back. Even after all that with the shitty recovery, and the drugs I hate being on, and then months of pain, and I have a puppy who will jump and not understand, and the chance of infection, and hospital complications… I will be so weak that it could grow again. So the surgery was for nothing and I’m back on chemo.

Scenario 2: We stay on course. – If some have already disappeared and others have shrunk then let’s just keep me on the low dose of chemo and keep my healthy lifestyle up. It’s obviously working for me and I feel great. But then we know I still have the cancer in me because we can see it. And there may come a point where they stop shrinking, and the amount of chemo in my system will make having a surgery too risky. So now they could grow and get worse.

Scenario 3: We wait for one more scan. – Have a couple more doses of chemo and check back in to see what the boys are doing. Maybe they are all gone now? Or maybe something fucked up happened and they grew weird and now surgery is back off the table and I’m fucked all over again. 

Scenario 4: I somehow convince Dr. Jay who is a world class surgeon, who people fly in to have him use his God like hands to operate – that he is wrong. He can operate laparoscopicly and he just has to figure it out. Go back to the skills lab like I see in Greys Anatomy and make a replica of my liver and figure it the fuck out. This is a pipe dream I know, but you bet your ass I will say this to him on Wednesday.

So as you can see this is just a small picture as to the confusion in my head, and now I have to chose one that is right for me. They can all lead to health and they can all lead to shit. This is my dilemma. 

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Speeding Ticket

I joke about my cancer all the time. If I am speaking with one of my friends and I want them to do something, I have been known to say, “But it is my dying wish.” I obviously do not actually mean it. It is just my sick sense of humour. One of the things I regularly joke about is if a stranger ever told me off, I would make them feel like shit. This scenerio could happen in a parking lot, or maybe I accidentaly cut someone off in my car – and said stranger decided to let me have it. I always joke about how I would pull of my hat, lift up my shirt and show them my battle wounds to let them know right then and there that they are an asshole for yelling at a dying girl. The same can be said about a run in with law enforcement. Now I never would go to lift my shirt up – I’m not that crazy – but I did always say I would some how tell them I have cancer to get out of a ticket. Well today that moment finally came. Driving down a hill my car accelerated because of GRAVITY and there was a speed trap at the bottom. I was flagged over. Well, here it was, my moment to shine – except something else happened. I realized that all jokng aside, I do not like to talk about myself with strangers. I felt awkward and weird to just work into a conversation that I had cancer. Did I cry? Yes of course. He even asked me if I was ok and why I was so upset, that was my moment! Yet still, I said, “Oh I won’t bore you with my life story. I’m sure you get that a lot.” I just took the ticket. After composing myself and driving away I began to wonder, why didn’t I just try and use my “get out of jail free” card? I am sure he would have felt sorry for me and let me be on my way. But that is exactly it. I do not want him to feel sorry for me. I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me. I can kid around with my friends but at the end of it all, I am not someone who wants others to sit around and feel bad for my life. My shit is my shit, and I have to live with that. That being said, if someone out there would like to pay for my ticket I wouldn’t say no…

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