The Numbers Game and Sabrina

Yesterday was a numbers day.  It was a very long day of consultations, exams, and labs. Both the chemotherapy doctor as well as the radiology oncologist were very competent and assuring.  My cancer is Stage I, 0 metastasis, 0 lymph node involvement.  Cure, they threw out the "C" word is 85-90%,  I will gratefully take those odds.  All other labs reveal I am as fit as a fiddle - except for having cancer.  Monday they will place a port for the chemo and after a week of healing we begin the treatments, once a week cisplatin and daily radiation therapy for five weeks.  Five weeks, winter will be over, things will be blooming, I can do pretty much anything for five weeks.  Or two pedicures and a hair appointment away and hopefully I will be through the worst of it.  Speaking of hair...neither of my new BFFs think I will be loosing much of mine.  This is probably a really good thing since I had decided to purchase a really "smokin hot" blond wig, one just like that super trashy Kim from the Atlanta Housewives wears.  My logic is since I am no longer my old self - why not enjoy a new trashy self - but alas it is not meant to be.  Roy really liked the idea, my mother-in-law was appalled and I did not actually share this little threat with my mother.

Since my diagnosis I have been ticking off all the tasks I've needed to accomplish, like cleaning the cabinets, organizing, painting things and even getting my car detailed.  Yesterday while I was being doctored-up I dropped the ever reliable, sensible and very comfortable Avalon off to be detailed.  When I returned late in the day to pick-up the car the detail shop was very busy and the staff was frantically trying to finish their remaining cars so I waited in the reception area with another woman of about my age who was on the phone clearly upset, seems her car was not cleaned well and she had returned it twice that day only to be disappointed again.  We looked at each other and I said "rough day?" when she blurts out "yes and I can't wait here any longer I have cancer", I was really startled and gave a small awkward laugh and said yeah me too, I just found out.  She then says really well I hope your prognosis is better than mine they have told me I have 6 months.  I could only stammer out I'm so sorry, she then said what is your name and I told her, I asked for hers and she said Sabrina.  Sabrina from Culpepper said she would pray for me, I told her I would pray for her as well.

I keep thinking about her, she looked so healthy and lovely - I mean really lovely.  She had a little black sports car with a convertible roof.  Today is chilly but sunny and I hope and pray Sabrina is tooling around in her little sports car which is finally clean enjoying herself, but most of all I hope she does well and I will include her in my prayers and if you read this I hope you will too.

Procrastination and Gratitude

Having cancer is a sure cure for procrastination.  Yes indeed it most certainly has cured me, which is not such a bad thing really.  I've put off for years answering those deep questions about God and faith.  Because of course there was always time - so much time.  Daily, almost hourly I ponder and pray, I never ask why me because it does not matter, it is me.  I ask for enlightenment and courage.  I have most assuredly had miracles, simple experiences which alone seem meaningless but threaded together defy coincidence.  I am content in that answer.  I am humbled and grateful for the love and compassion shown to me by my husband, children, family and my family of friends.  I have never experienced such an outpouring of love towards me and for that I am  profoundly grateful.

Tomorrow I meet with my new best freinds Dr. Chemo and Dr. Radiation, I've been advised to check my modesty at the door.  Please say a little prayer.

Father why have I seperated my self from you, please forgive me.

From here to eternity

I knew it before she confirmed it, I have cancer.  The worst part is all my people have it with me too.  It is interesting to me that just before you pass into the room where a clearly upset doctor is waiting to share this news - you don't have cancer, but just on the other side of the door everything changes.  I don't remember much about that day a little over two weeks ago except a profound sense of sadness.  I have Vaginal Cancer, rather rare as only 2,700 other souls will hear this diagnosis this year.  I do remember driving to my appointment rationalizing possible diagnosis and concluding that it could only be Cancer or hopefully a STD.  I was hoping for the latter - which of course would present a host of other problems, including a scene where I thrash my poor husband.  And if there was ever any question I knew with absolute certainty it could only be Cancer. 

Forward to today, I now have lots of new friends who have seen me naked.  Dignity is the first to go you know.  If I was ever bored before I'm not now, after spending hours researching outcomes and side effects - which of course have done nothing to help my anxiety I've come to accept it.  My very kind and experienced Oncology doctor has assured me this will nothing more then a "bump in the road".  He is talking cure.  Well it does not feel like a bump, it is more like the pot-hole-from-hell.   I'm not afraid anymore, just resolute.