Yesterday was one of those great days: In the afternoon I met my niece, who is perfect and amazing ' just a miracle of life wrapped up like the world's most beautiful burrito in my arms ' and in the evening I ate lobster with a friend who always makes me laugh and inspires me, having herself recently kicked cancer's a**. Needless to say I slept soundly. Smugly, even. Alas, this morning I came screeching back into cold hard reality at full-speed ' right back into the routine that somehow never becomes routine:
- 9 a.m. needle to the port in my chest ' check
- Extraction of 6 colour-coded vials of blood ' check
- ECG ' check
- IV fluids & drugs for about 2 hours ' check
- Review bloodwork results with my nurse: all counts low, especially platelets. Am instructed to rest as much as possible, and to avoid getting any deep cuts or gashes. Cancel my sword-fighting plans this weekend ' uh, check
This evening I'm scheduled for my first CT scan since beginning the clinical trial. They'll scan everything from head to pelvis, looking for any sign of further metastasis (please, no more) and of course, measuring the growth of the ol' neck lumps (please, no more than 20%). I've already choked back half the gigantic bucket of nasty chalk-juice, which, by the way, some jerk had the audacity to brand 'E-Z CAT" ' probably a relative of the jerk who came up with branding Fox News 'fair and balanced' Now I shall proceed to eat everything in sight before fasting begins. Then I'll nap, if I can possibly quiet my mind, and later my husband will take me back to the hospital for the freaky sci-fi space capsule scan. And then? Well, then we just wait. Probably until Monday. We wait and try to enjoy our weekend as much as possible, hopefully avoiding "deep cuts and gashes' or any manner of flesh-wound, and also trying not to think too much about the results. This of course is like trying not to breathe too much. I really want to stay positive and only think of good things (my family, my new niece, lobster dinners) but the truth is I'm terrified. Still, if there is something to know, I'd rather know it. Can't fight it if you don't know it's there, right? And maybe there just won't be any surprises. Maybe the test drug is working, in spite of seemingly enlarged neck lumps, which yes I have stopped touching all the time. Mostly. Anyway, on with the dragon hunt. Again.