We woke up early for our 8am appointment at Stanford. Neither one of us slept well in the hotel the
night before - being kept awake with anticipation and anxiety.
We had back to back doctors circulating through the room sharing
information about the medical trial.
Pros and Cons of doing it…what it would require of me…what the side
effects would be…what the commitment would mean….But, they also shared how the
benefits for someone like me are promising on this drug. Promising…those words I need to circulate
through my body. I need them through my veins and to translate into results. I
need some promising news and a promising treatment. It isn’t common that someone burns through so
many treatments in a year. I will be on
my 5th treatment. Most people have
something that sticks…it might only be for 6 months or a year, but that’s still
time. Then you get on something else…and
through time, you string enough treatments together that time adds up and
eventually you find something that’s sticks, or something is created in the
meantime that wasn’t there before and you have another option. My options are dwindling. I need something to stick. I need to stop this progression. I need a reprieve physically but more importantly,
I need a break emotionally.
After four hours of doctors sharing information…and Ecco
cardiogram, and EKG it was time for the dreaded blood work up. My levels had to be at 1.5 or higher to get
accepted. They were at 1.5 the week
before….so right at the cut off point. I
have stressed for weeks about this blood work since I naturally run low with my
white blood cells. One trick I have
learned is if you exercise right before the draw, it helps. They called my name…I told them to give me 15
mins and I bolted outside running around the hospital three times. Then I went inside and sprinted five flights
of stairs over and over. Then I went
back in the waiting room standing in front of my blood draw chair doing jumping
jacks in place till they were ready. Time
to wait in the balance. Time to hop back
on the roller coaster of waiting for another phone call… to either experience an emotional high or crashing low. Then
a wildcard was thrown in. I’ve learned
that nothing in the medical business is black and white – lots and lots of
grey. I was told that I would need a
brain MRI and it had to be clear to get in the trial. Crap.
I wasn’t planning on having this done for three more weeks. Another roller coaster ride of my mind
spinning out on ‘what ifs’. “The soonest
we can get you in for the MRI is 7:00pm tonight’… Ugg.
Great. Scramble to see if the
sitter can stay another night with the girls (thank you Christina!!) and get
home past 1am. At this point, it’s
official…I am sooo over three years of enduring stuff like this.
We walk outside to get the car so we can grab lunch and kill
time before our 7pm appointment. As
we’re waiting for the valet to get our car, an older southern couple sits down
on the bench next to me. She has silver
hair and I think to myself like I have a 100xs before…I want silver hair. I envy your age. I'm jealous of your wisdom and experiences. I so so badly want to grow old. She groans as she sits down and in her sweet
southern drawl looks at me and says, “Phew - Don’t ever get old honey…” then
she chuckles. I reply to her gradmotherly
warmness and say, “It’s a blessing to be old…”
Little did she know that I was fighting for more time. Little did she know that I was begging for my
age to creep up. “You are right honey,
all my grandkids are the blessing of my old age…Ohh, and there’s our car…Have a
good day and take care y’all!” she said standing up heading to her car.
A half hour passed and our car still hadn’t showed up. I finally found a valet worker and said –
“Hey, we’ve been waiting (at this point exhausted from information overload and
so hungry…) and haven’t gotten our car”.
“Well, ‘mam….Uggg…We’ve parked over 600 cars today and we are working on
it.” I read between the lines…”Did you loose the keys to our car?” I said. ”Uggg….No ‘mam…we didn’t loose them….we just
can’t find them”. What?!
This turned into shenanigans and running around and checking
pockets and intercom alerts and stressing how we would get home without keys….and
then toss in there me having a serious melt down repeating to Mark over and
over through sobs…”It’s not about the keys…It about everything!” Later Mark told me that he had a split second
thought…Yup, she’s snapped….She might not come back from this one. This was the straw for her. Fast forward two
hours later after I mopped myself up and pulled it together and the phone call
came in…”We found your keys”. Ten minutes
after that the phone rang again….”Michelle, your blood counts were high
enough!!”. Yes!! Buckle up…going back up
the roller coaster!!! YEW-HEW!
What a perfect analogy for what I am going through. For 3 years I have felt like I have lost the
golden keys to my life. I have been
searching looking for something I can’t find.
It has eluded me. It has been so
close I can sense it – feel it – almost grasp it…and at times it has been so
far away I am completely in the dark bumping into walls trying to find the
light. People offer well meaning advice...'You need to eat more bee pollen' - ' You need to release harbored bitterment' - 'You need to fast more' - 'This is the universe telling you to relinquish control since you like to control things'. These words at times are confusing and hurtful at 2:00 in the morning. This isn't my fault. I got a bad hand at DNA cards. That's what it is...simple as that. Still, I constantly ask myself...Where are my keys? Where is the answer to get me out of this
situation? Why can’t I find it? Why can’t I fix this?! It is the worst overarching feeling to
constantly try to solve the biggest problem of your life. A problem that is threatening your actual
life. I can’t turn it off – I don’t get
a reprieve – and every conversation and person I talk to revolves around this
exact thing. My situation. I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of every aspect of my world
circling the drain about this topic.
It’s exhausting and I’m loosing myself, and my identity in the process.
Be here now. Savor now. Say thank you now. Now is the only thing that’s really real.
That's the Key...
Thank you for your courage to share your story. You don't know me but I too have had breast cancer--stage 2b. I also have two little ones, two little boys. My oncologist told me that I have a 45% chance of recurrence over my lifetime. Sometimes that scares me so much that I lose sight of today. Today is a gift with my babies. Thank you for reminding me of that. You are in my prayers, as well as your beautiful family. With Jesus, miracles are STILL possible.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you sweet soul. This life is a gift. Don't steal if from yourself. xx Michelle
Delete