What Did You Say?

After this last chemo treatment I had an appointment with my very direct and lovely Radiology Oncologist.  She looks like that Disney Princess from Aladdin.  Long, thick, dark hair (me...green with envy), big round dark eyes and a smile that sparkles.

Dr. Princess needed to recap my past treatments in chemo with me.  We argued about the dates of things.  For the record, I was right every time.  I told her that there were certain dates in my life that I would likely NEVER forget.  Chemo treatments would fall into that category.  She asked me lots of questions about my experience and then capped it all off with, "Did you gain weight?".

What?  Really?  You're going to ask me this question on a day when I'm so weak?  What exactly is on that laptop of yours?  Are you playing solitaire or are you looking at my records???

In a calm voice, I said, "YES I GAINED WEIGHT!".

Deep breath.

She nodded, as a princess would, and looked at her screen.  "Ah, yes, I see that you are up 8 pounds from when you first came to see us."  I hung my head and said, "I didn't sign up for that kind of chemo.  I wanted the kind that would make my bones protrude."  I guess we don't get to chose how our body reacts and I guess I'm lucky to be here typing this, eight pounds heavier.  Chubby wrists and fingers click-clack-clicking away.

We reviewed all of the stuff that goes with radiation.  I get two tattoos this week from her tech (wondering if I can request a little heart and a butterfly) and the alignment of hot beams will be precisely put into place.  They will be hitting me from over and under with the beams and the main side effect that I can expect is a burned boob.  As if I spent too much time in the sun without sunscreen.  Then Dr. Princess says, "Other side effects could include heart and lung trauma".  "What?"  I was having such a hard time hearing some of what she had to say.  I mean, I HEARD her, but I didn't hear her.  You know what I mean?  Like it would just glaze over me...then settle a bit...then I'd recognize what she was saying.

So I guess you can have bad things happen to your heart and lungs from the radiation to the breast.  I said, "Okay, well, it's not like I'm going to say 'no' to the treatment, so it is what it is."  Her response was, "You are so very practical."

Practical?  I don't know that I've ever been told that I was practical...

But really, what would the response be at that point?  "I'm outta here..."  No.  Must take care of all of this and take the risks that come along with the treatment.  I'll get through it.

I will be treated, or fried if you like, every day for more than six weeks.  I'm looking at the beginning of April for a completion date and then I'll just treat this cancer crap with a drug for the next five years.

I was all ready to skedaddle myself right on out of there when Dr. Princess mentioned that I'd need to be checked a few months after, most likely at the one year mark, to see if the cancer was gone.

What did you say?

This is where I draw the line.  I accepted my cancer diagnosis in September.  I accepted the surgery to remove the bad-boy and then the second surgery to make sure that all of it was gone.  I accepted the chemo plan and I accept the radiation.  What I don't accept and refuse to "hear" is that the cancer might not be gone.

I refuse to accept that as part of my reality.

I will not hear it.

So for the record, when they make me go in to screen for this in another six months or so, I WILL be clear and free of cancer.

The end.