There has been lots of this over the last few days. I feel so broken and sad. There is guilt of knowing that God is a God of miracles and yet not being able to just trust completely that all will be well. I feel trapped between the science and the MRI images--so many tumors!--and the blind faith that there is still hope. Right now I feel hopeless. I'm angry. I feel like I've let down so many people, that I'm leaving my children and spouse much too soon. How could I bring these boys to this world and then just go, especially when there is so much still do to? I feel like they won't remember me, and I've tried so hard to be so much for them--making traditions, being a nurturer, teaching them discipline, and so many other things, yet they are still SO young! How will any of it stick? I know I can still fight and that I am strong, but I am starting to get tired. My head hurts so much, and I've noticed that it's gotten harder to move and stand in just the last few days. I'm scared to lose who I am.
I am also so touched and overwhelmed at the love and outpouring of kindness and prayers for our family. It is incredible to see the far-reaching effects of connections made through our many travels and associations over the years. I have loved seeing that web of love through such a rocky and dark time.
On Tuesday, I went to my regularly scheduled appointment with Dr. Fleener. Stephen surprised me by getting off early and meeting me there! The nurses, office managers, financial ladies, and more came up to hug me and give me some comfort---news travels fast.
There really was no silver lining to the reports today. The hard part about me is that my body was reacting so well to Herceptin and Perjeta and there were no other symptoms until the past week. The PET scan scans from the bottom of the ears to the knees, looking for high glucose areas. It's not the best on the brain because the brain has such high activity all the time.
Dr. Fleener still thinks I have on the longer end of things. She has high hopes that my cancer reacted so well to radiation before. "It just melted away the last time." She hopes that it will work that well again, which will give me a longer end of that spectrum of time. Those averages include people who are in their 70s, coming in in wheelchairs, not healthy at all.
I have a little on that.
She did give me the news that I could skip treatment today, especially since I've never missed one.
I took that as a sign, especially since Stephen was off. We skipped out and went to a movie.
It was a perfect idea.
No comments:
Post a Comment