Well, my Sunday School lesson
was shot straight to hell. I figured we would talk about how God knows us down
to the number of hairs on our head and then we would have a photo shoot with
the wigs as the angels pondered my soon to be baldness. That all went out the window with Dr K and his
“you are not getting chemo” bombshell.
Because the medical world
thrives on scales and blood pressure, I had to suffer both before I saw Dr
K. I took great pride when the poor
young assistant looked at my blood pressure and said oh boy. I told her I was a
wee bit stressed and not to worry about it.
She thought it was because I was seeing the doctor—I humored her and
said, yes, that is it. And in comes Dr
K—saying exactly what I knew he would—hi and I am sorry about this. Gold star for me! And yes, I did voice that and then told him I
missed him so much in past 2 weeks I just had to see him (he just shook his
head in that why is she mine way). And
then he dropped the chemo bombshell. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I mean, I had it all planned out –I found the
misplaced wigs, got Kim on board with the shearing , figured out how much I was
going to save on hair products and even dreaming about the not having to shave
the legs part. I even was betting on the
chemo start date. I should have known,
after all it is me. So Dr K then outlines the plan for both results of the PET
scan—the good (localized) and the bad (distant- that means it has spread – yes I
had to have Dr Lynn explain that one) which would be Stage 4 (which is manageable,
but not curable). Either way, no chemo
as due to the type of breast cancer I had, it would not be beneficial so why
put me through it. The words are you
sure tumbled out and he patiently showed me a study based on my type of cancer. And there it was in red and blue—no
benefit. His plan is this… if it is
localized, Pia is history and I am on something which for the life of me I can’t
remember. If it is the bad one, Pia
stays and the tumor will be monitored as to how it responds to the something which
for the life of me I can’t remember medicine and this can go on for years (years
people, not until Christmas which was bothering me).
I will admit to leaving
there in a daze and trying to let it all sink in. The cinnamon pecan roll from Whole Foods
helped and by the time I got to Mayfaire I felt as if a load had been lifted
and for the first time in a week, I felt peace.
Everything boils down to Wednesday and the PET scan (no pressure at all
here). While I would love for Pia to be
part of the curable group vs. that nasty not curable group, please know that I
am good either way. With that out of
the way, anyone want to do a Sunday School lesson for me? I got donuts…
Peace I leave with you; my
peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts
be troubled; neither let them be afraid.
John 14:27
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