WaitingWaitingWaiting

Half-way mark. Three chemos down - three to go. Thank goodness, I don't know how long I can keep up the "good attitude" cancer girl version of myself. As the effects of the chemo become cumulative, it's hard to stay upbeat. I'm waiting for my Doctor to call me in for an appointment now. I'm waiting to hear my prognosis. I'm waiting for good news. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm tired of feeling tired. I'm tired of trying to make everyone around me be OK with all this. (This is, I'm certain, a responsibility I put on myself.) Cancer makes some people uncomfortable - and I try to put them at ease. I have this image of myself tap dancing really badly as fast as I can, with a much too big smile on my face. My sparkly costume has a big rip in it, so I'm smiling too big and I'm dancing too fast to try and take the focus off the big rip. I'm tired of having to ask for help. I'm tired of having things that used to give me pleasure, now give me frustration. I'm tired of feeling like a drain on my family. A multi-faceted drain. A drain on our normal lives. A drain on our resources. A drain on our time. It's all pretty draining. I have big drain chemo brain.

I hear the tumors are shrinking and the metabolic rate of the cancer cells is slowing. This is good news. It is not, however, specific news. I cried happily when I got the news, but now I am stewing. Did the tumors shrink a lot? Or just a little? How slow are the cancer cells growing? Why are they still growing. Shouldn't we have shut them down by now? I want us to be on "mop-up" duty at this point. We just need to to be cleaning up all their lifeless cancer shells and kicking them out! I'll endure the rest of the chemo so that the tumors can shrink away to obscurity. That's what I want. Maybe that's what I'll get. My fear is that they'll say - "They are not shrinking fast enough - we have to do more chemo." My mother had a friend pass away recently. At the funeral, her husband spoke and said that his beautiful wife had endured 82 rounds of chemotherapy. Eighty-two rounds. I'm dreading the three I have left. Eighty-two rounds.

My appointment with the doctor was at 2:40 p.m. It is now almost 4:00 p.m. Waiting,waiting,waiting. I'm not upset, I was grateful when she squeezed me in when I was diagnosed. Apparently, she admitted two new patients today, and that put her behind. They are lucky patients, I wish them well. However, more time to stew and now more favors to ask. Can my husband get out of work early to pick up the kids? If not, can my friend keep them longer? My son is supposed to go to a birthday sleepover - is it OK if he's late? I will definitely be sitting in Friday night traffic. Let me guess - waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting. Bring it on.

I am fully exhausted. My mind and body are drained. Every scary, stewed thought I had has been assuaged by my doctor. The tumors are shrinking significantly! We are kicking their lifeless cancer shells to the curb! It is really good, she tells me. When I was diagnosed, the metabolic rate in my breast was 4.4. Normal is 2.3. I am currently at 2. What a beautiful number. I love 2. When my oldest son was only 6 years old, he was a tiger cub in scouts. He was in some sort of contest, and he leaned over and said to me, "I hope I come in 2nd, I really like the red ribbon." I thought it was the cutest thing on earth at the time - he wanted to be #2! I hadn't thought of that in years, and now it comes crashing into my brain with such happiness! Also, he did come in #2, and we still have that pretty red ribbon! We're number two! We're number two!

I've stopped tap dancing and stewing for now. Probably a good thing - it doesn't sound like a good combo. Just three chemos to go! We are now just making the tumors teeeeeeeeny-tiiiiiiiiiny. My last chemo is September 25th. Three to four weeks after that should be surgery. The smaller those tumors are, the smaller my surgery will be. Also, they tell me that about a month after your last chemo, your hair starts to come back. That is totally going to mess up my kids plans for me to be Dr. Evil for Halloween.