December 2011.
I always love starting a new year. It feels like you’re shedding all of the bad stuff and leaping forward with a fresh new start. While I was hoping for a cool, calm December, it is anything but. My surgeon’s office calls me on Christmas Eve to say that my pathology report is back and Dr. M would like to see me right away. Doctors only give GOOD news on Christmas Eve, right? Carl and I head over there to meet with her.
Why does three minutes of waiting feel like a lifetime? Dr. M walks in and drops the results on me like a bomb. “The cancer is in your lymph nodes, only slightly, 2 of 5 nodes that were removed but there nonetheless. You are going to need chemo.” She is referring me on to The Agency. My soul is crushed. For a girl that never cries, I have been doing my fair share of boohooing this past month. All for good reason but still, it’s a bit much really.
Someone from the Agency calls the very next day to book me in to meet my oncologist. This is all happening way too fast for my liking. Why are they moving so quickly? Am I in major trouble here? It suddenly occurs to me how serious this diagnosis is. People complain about our medical system, but let me tell you, when you have a serious condition, it moves at lightning speed.
Today I am sitting in an examination room at The Agency, waiting. Waiting has become a painful time spent thinking about the future, about my outcome. Every second that I am not busy being productive, I am thinking about cancer. It sucks. It cannot be controlled. Our minds are so powerful and yet fear can creep into our souls at will. Why does fear have so much power over us?
My oncologist walks into the room. She is my age and has kids Ava’s age. I instantly like her. I have a sixth sense about people. I know when they are bull-shitters and I know immediately when they are inauthentic. She is neither. She is kind and compassionate and straight to the point. “We should start chemo immediately.” Although she thinks that my cancer is in the “grey area”, she firmly believes that chemo will be my insurance policy in saying goodbye to cancer forever. I ask her about a test – Oncotype Dx (a question courtesy of Krista’s Aunt Helen) that can tell me which chemo will be the most effective for my cancer. “Don’t waste your time or money, it’s not going to change how I treat you,” replies Dr. O. I assume she knows best. She treats people with cancer every single day and is an expert in her field. I will pretty much do whatever she tells me to. I don’t know it yet but this will be my first mistake of not taking charge of this disease. “You will have an 80% chance of it not returning if we add chemo into your treatment” she tells me. Sounds like pretty good odds to me. Where do I sign up?
- Kim
photo: Krista McKeachie