Whether or Not...Here It Comes.

 

We are expecting a snowstorm this weekend in SC (yeah I know, after last week's dud of an ice storm, I'm not completely sold on the forecast, but I am hopeful for this one).  I have always loved a good snow. My mom used to tell stories of my being a brat as a 5/6 yr old standing at the gate of my little yard with a broom making sure the other bigger kids stayed off my snow by wacking at them if they got too close to my yard. According to my mom I told her it was because I felt that if they walked on our snow it would start to melt and I wanted to have snow for as long as I possibly could. I don't condone little me's tactics...but I do understand the sentiment. 

One of my favorite snow things to do is to sit outside at night when it is falling. The normal city/neighborhood sounds dampen when everything is blanketed in white. It reminds me of how it feels when you are floating in water with your ears under. Everything is muffled and ... peaceful.

Today I had my PET scan bright and early at 730am. It was the culminating diagnostic and planning appt on my list of To do's since my CT on January 13th showed an enlarged lymph node in my neck. If I'm being honest, its been quite a whirlwind of appointments. We have discussed and laid out chemotherapy options, specialized targeted therapies that could be added in to give some extra punch to the chemo based on the genetic properties of my original tumor, and discussed surgical options for resectioning my neck to remove all of the Level 5, 4, and 3 lymph nodes from the center clear across the entire left plane to under my ear. The ultimate direction was dependent however on the results of the PET scan that I had this morning. 

I got the results a few hours ago through my chart. It showed the continued presence of the enlarge lymph node as expected but it also showed a second spot of hypermetabolic activity in my new stomach/esophagus that was concerning for recurrence. My initial reaction without sugar coating it was..."Well Shit, that sucks." I mean no one really wants cancer to be present...again. I might be a cup half full type of girl but I am human. *Side Note* my son says I have said that "I am human" phrase so much in my conversation about this with him today that he is starting to wonder if he should be concerned, I'm not human as I am suspiciously claiming it "too much" lol I mean truly though, no one has seen both me AND aliens together have they? so ya know??? )

Anyway... I am a cup half full type of girl, but... I am human. This is scary. This does feel daunting. This does feel like "just one more thing" on a life plate that already feels too full. It's a lot. I'm not quite sure what to expect of new drugs, new routines, new side effects, and possibly the uncomfortable new realities and limits I might have to face. All of that uncertainty just doesn't feel too pleasant. I prefer neat little orderly boxes, predictability, and plans I can make check lists for that I can scratch out when I complete them. I don't really want to go through this again. 

However, in the midst of my emotional protest, I also can see the blessings. Lets count...

1. I LOVE my medical team. They are diligent, always have time to answer my million and one questions, and they understand the benefit of quick action. It has been nice to not have to wait for weeks and months for action and ....before anyone thinks that is a mistype, yes people get diagnosed lots of times and wait 4+ weeks for treatment plans to start. 

2. If the lymph node had NOT shown up enlarged in my last CT (Jan 13th) we would not have found the esophagus spot until at least April cos the CT did NOT catch it. What if these three extra months make all the difference?

3. I have an amazing family and friend support system. I feel your prayers and feel your presence all around me. It that makes difference too. 

4. It is two places but there were hundreds of places on my full body PET scan that showed "No evidence of disease" 

5. We aren't going into this blindly. We know key genetic information about my cancer thanks to testing done on my past recurrence tissue. This helps us navigate to treatment options that might have favorable results. We also know what my body has faced and dealt with successfully in the past. I know what to expect in the process and semi know what my body can handle and how I can help support the process. 

And that is just a list of 5 things...I am sure time will reveal so so much more as we go along. 

So now back to my snow analogy...here is the way this works. The forecast is set and the landscape is going to change for a season. The cancer is here. 

I can choose to approach this situation one of two ways.... 

I can stand at the perimeter of myself with my broom stick banging it around marking my territory, my comfort, my do not cross, will not accept margins. I can try to self-preserve by force. I have empathy for the me that thinks that is reasonable. My life (my snow) is precious, and I want to do everything I can to preserve it, so it looks just like it does when it is at its very best. I don't want the messy version, and I don't really want to even consider that it might all go away. 

or two...

I could also lay that broom of control down and open my hands. It's scary ... but what 5 yr old me didn't realize was when I was running around wacking at people I wasn't even enjoying my snow.  I wasn't basking in that peaceful silence. I couldn't catch the falling flakes with my hands closed tight. I didn't laugh and enjoy it with friends or family, and I didn't even make a snow angel impression on the ground to let everyone who passed by know that I had even been here at all.