I feel bad for Dr. C, the oncologist I will meet on Tuesday. It will be her responsibility to clean up the collateral damage left by Thursday’s attack. The fallout has left my brain rattled. Fear has planted a seed of doubt and I have forgotten the reasoning that led me to make the decisions I have made thus far. It’s scary to doubt myself. It’s scary to have to make decisions that can affect my health and well-being for the rest of my life. I am thankful to be surrounded by smart people who continuously reiterate that I am making sound decisions and I have no reason to second guess myself.
Being 29, there is no data to guide my doctors to treatments that will be most effective. There is no data to suggest how my specific cancer will behave in the future. Dr. S seems to be reverting to the methods of old wars, wars where there was no data, so everyone was treated the same. Aggressive, toxic, terrible chemo. All I know is I have no tumors to shrink. I have no runaway cancer cells in my lymph nodes too chase down with bullets and bombs. My cancer has not started to travel through my blood vessels. It is gone.
I will not subject myself to the red devil of chemo due to a lack of information. I will not ravage my body without an excellent reason.
What I do know is that I need to fight this with all my might. I don’t need to meet Dr. C to know that I will continue to battle this, even if it’s just the unknown that I am battling. Four rounds of less toxic chemo is a battle that I get behind.
I will be doing chemo.
Never in my life did I think that would be a statement I would make.
I’m scared. I’m doubtful. I’m taking allot of Xanax (<3 :-D).
I have found things that calm my mind. I am crocheting. I am folding clothes. I am washing dishes. I am watching shows and movies that I loved as a child and take me back to being 12 years old. I am also shopping.
I know that chemo will make me feel shitty and weird and probably ugly, so I’m getting in touch with my inner girly girl and preparing to feel pretty during a very ugly time.
Non-cancer looking hats. Makeup for the thinning/loss of lashes and brows. Wigs. It’s kind of fun… in a morbid way.
I guess that’s my inner optimist coming out. There is always a light to be found in our darkest days.