Sometimes I feel so selfish. So narcissistic. Here I go again! I am asking you all today to keep me in your thoughts.
But now it's scan time. There is no getting around it. This afternoon, I go to see my doctor to get the results. The guillotine is sharp and glistening in the sun. A crowd has gathered. I just have to climb the steps and learn my fate. Are the drugs working? Has anything grown? Can I stay on the trial?
And then, I let my imagination wander even further, maybe the drugs have worked so well all of those teeny tiny scary cancer spots that we have been watching nervously for years, they are scattered all throughout my body, maybe we have found the silver bullet drug that I hoped for. Maybe they have all disappeared??
Or I could be stuck today somewhere in the middle. In no man's land, which is also so very hard to overcome. No change. The cancer has not grown, so let's assume the drugs are working, but we have no evidence. There is some tempered celebration, but the dreaded spots are still there.
I have been anxiously awaiting a phone call all week. I have been riding this roller coaster long enough now to know the drill. If the results were very bad, like life threatening bad, the doctor always calls. She always calls on her cell phone in the evening when she gets home. Not because she didn't find time during the day to deliver the bad news but because that way she has all the time in the world to answer any of my questions. I love her!
My witching hour is sometime between the hours of 6pm and 8pm. I have had twenty scans in the past five years. Of those twenty, six have come back badly. I have still had more good news or in between news than I have had bad news. I like to think that is a sign of me winning. Yet, six bad phone calls is enough for you to notice a pattern.
She calls my cell between 6pm and 8pm from a blocked phone number. So all week I have been on lock down. If Mamma calls or one of my girls calls, I angrily hit ignore (sorry gals!) I am as single minded and focused on my cell phone as a young teenage girl waiting for that return call from her date, except without any butterflies of excitement.
On Monday, the poor Salvation Army man made the mistake of calling my cell phone at 6:15pm to remind me of the pick up of some donations on Tuesday. I almost took his head off. Poor man! None of this is his fault! Then Comcast made the mistake of calling to let me know they changed their name to Xfinity. My service is excellent and the cost is reasonable, but that errant phone call alone was enough to make me want to change my provider!
So far so good, no midnight phone calls and we are trying to deal here at the Big Man and Big Pant household.
How do we deal? Basically, we make plans and spend money on the future. The sensible thing to do this upcoming holiday weekend would be to stay close to home. We live in Boston for goodness sake, there are some fabulous Fourth of July festivities right here in our back yard! But no! Not the Big Family! Instead, we satiate our anxiety by plunking down some cash (that we don't have!).
This weekend, we are going to take a road trip to New Hampshire. To the Mount Washington Resort to be exact. A non-refundable hotel package. We decided this over the weekend as I was having a meltdown in the kitchen. The Big Man said it first, "We need to get out of here."
He's right. I don't care what happens this week, or where I have to be, or what huge, life altering decisions I have to make. We're getting the heck out of dodge. We are going to hike to high peaks and stare out into the sunset and ponder life's great mysteries. We are going to work up a sweat on the tennis court. Then, we are going to get a couple's massage. And, of course, there will be fireworks.
Whatever this turns out to be, for right now, I'm nervous as hell and would appreciate all of you lifting me up in your thoughts. Thank you for reading and thank you for caring. This moment really is what my blog is all about. A place where I can remind everyone all at the same time, while you're headed to work today, I'm headed to my own personal guillotine. Wish me luck!