I went pretty quiet after yesterday’s appointment with the medical oncologist. We really liked him, and it felt informative and clear, exactly what we were expecting. The timeline looks like what we were hoping for: starting chemo at the end of next week, finishing before Thanksgiving and healing in time to have surgery before the end of the calendar year to get in before the insurance deductible pings back to zero. It was what we were expecting to hear, but I found myself feeling more blue, facing the reality and inching closer and closer to the nastiness. I finally called today to schedule my port insertion, which will make everything infinitely easier over the next year, even if it gives me the heebie jeebies just to think about it. I also scheduled (well, Jennifer Mattox did) a half-day at a gorgeous spa set up in the woods closer to the coast. She and an amazing group of friends pitched in to send me there to cleanse before the badness starts, to feel relaxed and centered to go forward. Throw in a little mani-pedi and the day before the port insertion is just what I need.
Or at least it was until the phone just rang. It was the assistant to the surgeon, calling with all the test results from the last week. Blood work is mostly OK, although Vitamin D is low so I’m going to get an over-the-counter supplement. Heart function looks normal, axillary lymph nodes look good, and there are no additional problems on my right side. The MRI did find an abnormal nodule on my left breast now. It’s very small, wasn’t even detectable on the mammogram. On the one hand we’re not sure what it matters if I’m getting bombed with chemo and having both of them cut off later, but it is throwing a possible wrench in my plans. I was relieved yesterday to be able to start scheduling stuff and now I’m anxious again. I am now scheduled for an ultrasound first thing Monday morning, and I’m hopeful that it won’t get in the way of the spa visit, although I may not be able to get the mani-pedi first. But I don’t know what happens if they want to do a biopsy, which I guess they do to figure out if the makeup of the tumors are different, perhaps they would tweak the treatment plan accordingly. Will the biopsy get in the way of the spa? Will it throw off the schedule for everything?
No way to know now, which is a frustrating feature of these weeks leading up to treatment. I want to know, I want to have my calendar set, I want to start. The sooner I start, the sooner I can count down the chemo treatments from 6 to done. I wanna go. I’m tired of the uncertainty.