Day 161
I’m feeling a lot like Charlie Brown when Lucy holds the football out for him to kick. I met with my Oncologist today. As it turns out I am not in single digits after all. The schedule I’ve been working from is wrong. I’m scheduled for 32 treatments not 30. The schedule I was given at the beginning of my treatments and the pass I was given that allows me access to the hospital both bear the date June 22 but unfortunately that’s a mistake. I won’t end until June 24 so 22 treatments down, 10 to go. I have to have 25 of the broader treatments and and 7 of the narrowed field treatments. I’m feeling demoralized.
There’s something the medical profession needs to do a better job at, making sure the patient has the correct end date for hospitalizations, treatments and anything else with a start and end date. While I was in the hospital the plastic surgery resident told me that I could go home the next day only to have the internal medicine folks say that was not so the next day. I was in the hospital for at least another 3 days. When I left for rehab the end date for my IV antibiotics was Oct. 26 but ended up being Oct. 27. The up of thinking you’re going home or are close to your end date is sometimes what you’re living every day for. The huge crash when the finish line moves is brutal. In fact it’s demoralizing. I’ve kept focused on the end date and made my way through by keeping my mind on counting down the days with June 22 as my light at the end of the tunnel.
Now I know you’re probably thinking, “What the hell is she going on about? It’s just two flipping days. Just get over it and move on.” And really what choice do I have? It’s not as though I can just decide not to complete my radiation treatments that’d be ridiculous. It would be counterproductive and detrimental to my health and I’ve come too far to not see this through. That said, I’m overwhelmed, disappointed and demoralized tonight.
In addition to finding out that my treatments will now last a full 7 weeks as opposed to 6 and change I also learned that the end won’t be so much of a definitive end. When I had my biopsy the first Oncologist told us that basal cell cancer doesn’t show up on PET scans so I asked today what the end of treatments will mean. Since basal cell cancer doesn’t show up on a PET scan I’ll have to be seen by a dermatologist and I’ll need long term follow up. There’ll be no, “Yay! You’re cancer free. Go in peace to live happily ever after.”
So here I sit, no longer in single digits with no definite, “You’re cured” to be found at the end of this journey, the ever moving finish lines and uncertainty weighing heavy on me. I need a break.
Thanks so much for stopping by to read every day. Your love and support mean the world to me. I love you all.
With muck love and great appreciation,
~ Carol Anne
{{hugs}}
Carol Anne, so sorry. Hugs to you. Two days is a big deal when you’re dealing with this…as is the part about the definitive end. Hang in there- glad you have this writing outlet. –Barbara (@ThisBarbara)
Thank you Barbara. I appreciate your kind words. I’m glad I have this place to compose my thoughts and be committed to also.