F Word

The only reason the real F word isn't up there is for Debbie & Grandma Milly. I had two doctor appointments yesterday and after I felt like standing on a really big building and screaming the F word as loud as I could. I do, however, live in Sweet Home where there aren't big buildings, so I guess we're good there. First was the oncologist. I wasn't expecting this to be hard, but for some reason when I got there, and saw the chemo paperwork and the dr. degrees on the wall with "oncology" on them, I freaked. She walked into the room and I started crying. Crap, I'm tired of crying in public. I got the sympathetic "I'm sorry" from her, cried more. Crap. So, she goes through this paperwork with my pathology report, my age, my health (pre-cancer) and gives me a number. The number is my chance of living for ten years, age 40. I have a 76% chance of making it. F WORD. 76!!!!!???? I wasn't ready for a number, and I definitely wasn't ready for a low number like that. Thanks to my math teacher dad and mother in-law, and Donna Miles, the expert, I'm feeling normal again today. All reassured me that everyone has a percentage out there somewhere, whether its driving in a car, flying in an airplane, whatever, everyone has one, I just have to actually know what mine is. And from a math perspective this is a small number, in the medical world, this is a big number. And as Dad said, you do everything you have to do, stay positive, good attitude, etc, to ensure you're in the 76%. Ok, I can do that. I went and had a beer and french fries after the doctor, it helped some.
So, the good news is that the oncologist seems to think chemo won't be a big deal for me. The first treatment tends to be the worst mainly because of the anxiety of it all, yup, I've got that part covered. Apparently my hair will fall out right away. I'm ok with the bald thing, I'm guessing when it actually happens I'll freak out, but right now, I'm oddly curious what I'll look like without hair... I'm going to cut it short before it falls out, maybe next weekend. My hope is that it will be a little easier on Cannon & Max. I've always wanted to cut my hair short, but been too afraid to do it, well, this is a face your fears few months so screw it.
Next was the surgeon, this is all good news. Healing well, plastic surgeon did a fabulous job, little bit of tightness in the left arm, we're cruising. Oh, I do have to continue to wear the ace bandage. This is like wearing a tight bra all the time. For those of you, like me, that love that moment at the end of the day when the bra comes off, you'll understand why this is a little annoying, but whatever. The ace bandage has to do with the expander bags and holding them in place. I don't picture them just moving around and suddenly they're at my knees, but fine. The plastic surgeon is in charge of when that comes off, and he seems to be good, so I'll do whatever he wants me to do.
My next appointments are: September 10th acupuncture, followed by plastic surgeon who will "pump me up." September 11th put in the port for the chemo at 9AM, and then September 12th is the first chemo appointment, followed by the second half of acupuncture. Mr. and Mrs. Sime will be busy teaching and babysitting this week. :) A lot of these appointments will require drugs before or after, so I have a lot of vicatin (see, I don't even know how to spell it!) in my future. I was sore last night and haven't been sleeping well, so I took 1/2 a pill, and the other 1/2 about 3 this morning. It didn't make me nauseous, so that was good to know. I was afraid I'd take drugs for pain and end up puking again. Oh! Chemo doctor also said that those people who try to keep their lives as normal as possible while doing chemo treatments, etc, seem to fair better. What? I made a good decision to work? Ha!
So, that was my crummy day yesterday, I'm feeling really good this morning, back to the good attitude part of life. I know the number, the shock sucked, but I had to hear it sometime. Thanks again for the cards and gifts, Diane, the bucket of candy and popcorn got here yesterday and was perfect timing. I ate honey roasted peanuts and again, felt much better. And for a brief male update: Cannon is close to crawling, he waves at you across the room and it makes you laugh everytime. Max is as stubborn and cute as ever, and has scammed both grandpas into doughnuts at the store, but the grandmas, (as he calls them Smamas) occassionally resist. Brent would have been right next to me yelling the F word yesterday, but is excited to be making salsa today, and is doing fabulous.