The good, the bad and the ugly

The good: My first infusion was a breeze! My port worked great, my nurses were kind and supportive, and I didn’t have any reactions to the chemo. They gave me a bell to ring in case I felt any immediate reactions to the chemo. It took every ounce of will power not to ring it for fun. The nurses apparently don’t like those kinds of jokes because a ringing bell send them all running to help. I kept myself busy with Marco Polo, texts, audio books, knitting and Netflix, so the time actually went by pretty quickly. The set up is a big room full of recliners, and, bonus, the recliners are decked out with heat and massage features. I was lucky enough to get a chair by the window with sweet rays of sunshine falling on me. Really, the worst part of chemo so far was sneezing in my mask. 

Now the bad and the ugly: My biopsy results came in after I got home from chemo. My oncologist called to give me the news that cancer was found in both biopsies. Crap, that sucks! Now instead of the stage II diagnosis I received a little over a week ago, I’ve been upgraded to stage IV. (Not an upgrade anyone wants) With stage II, my cancer could be cured, and I was looking at a survival rate of 90% or better. Stage IV is considered incurable, and the 5 year survival rate, after my quick google search, is somewhere under 30%. I’ve cried buckets of tears, and I’ve seen Steve cry more tears now than in our whole 11yrs of marriage. If you know Steve, that’s not a big shock.  For now, this news won’t change my treatment in the short term. I will still go back on December 7th for my next chemo infusion. I meet with my oncologist before my infusion, and she may decide to switch up what drugs are delivered that day. I already have an appointment with Mayo Clinic to get a second opinion. It will mostly likely not change my diagnosis, but they might have other insights on treatment or clinical trials I could be a part of. I’m so thankful to live where I can receive absolutely top notch care. My oncologist at MN Oncology is very open and almost appreciative that I’m getting the second opinion at Mayo. Her attitude and approach to my treatment makes me feel very comfortable and confident that I’m getting best care available to me. Even though I have stage IV cancer, there are still a lot of variables that come into play to determine treatment and outcomes. The fact that I’m young and mostly healthy except for cancer and that the spot in my sacrum is so tiny are both in my favor. And the fact that my cancer is triple positive means it should respond well to chemo and targeted therapies. 

Treatment changes will likely mean more systemic treatments like chemo, targeted treatments and hormone therapies. These will all address and attack the cancer everywhere in my body. I may forego the localized treatments, like surgery and radiation. I’ll know more after I’ve had my Mayo appointment and reconvened with my oncologist. I’m sure I’ll have more scans along the way to determine how well the chemo is working, and those results will determine further treatment. It’s a wait and see game. 

Of course I’m sad and grappling with the news of these results. I have grandparents and great grandparents who have made it to their 90s, so I’ve always seen myself as someone who is healthy and has good genes. I definitely thought I would be around to see my kids grow up and start families of their own. Now, I have no guarantees on the future or what time I’ll have on this earth. I still may be there to see it all. I’m not dead yet, so I’m going to live each day to its fullness. I’ve noticed that the grief and sadness of living with cancer has been almost a slingshot into incredible joy and thankfulness. Both the lows and highs are so intense. Just laughing with my family and soaking up my kids has never felt sweeter. Even as I sat in my heated, vibrating recliner with the sun pouring in on me while I received my chemo, I thought how lucky I am to have my life. I serve an amazing, loving, miraculous God who has blessed me with the best friends and family anyone could ask for. I do not feel alone or abandoned in this difficult time. I know God can work miracles and He can heal me, but that may not be His plan. Either way, He is still good. All I can say is that this is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.