#2


there's a thorn in the side of my emotions today. as you know, if you've been following along even ever so slightly, you know i'll swallow pill number 252 of 252 later tonight. tomorrow will hopefully be my last day "on" therapy for a long, long time, maybe ever if this treatment worked the way we all have hoped. and yet, there's still a very distinct disturbance in my force. not surprisingly, this has everything to do with my impending scan on thursday morning.

the plan will be similar to the scan in november. the biggest difference will be they are going to scan me neck to pelvis rather than abdomen to pelvis as they did six months ago. i'll go in and have my scan at 7:00 a.m. my six week follow-up with my oncologist is scheduled for two hours later, at 9:00. if the scan is read as quickly as it was six months ago, i should have the results during that appointment.

back in november, i really appreciated my doctor coming in and quickly saying, "everything looks fine." i am sure he's well aware from his vast experience that no one is going to listen to a word he says, much less be able to put together a conversation, if they are worried about the results of a scan. and so, he came in, gave me the good news, i took a deep breath and began the six month march into the second half of my treatment plan, which will culminate tonight and then thursday morning.

and so, we are here. so, what? i made it. i feel like i should feel a more immense sense of accomplishment, but i don't. i have to believe the reason for that is that i don't know if i truly have a reason to celebrate yet.

yes, of course i am happy to finish this, the longest year of my life. the pain, the discomfort, the physical and psychological anguish of these last twelve months because of the poison i've been voluntarily swallowing is coming to an end. as sarah mentioned last night, it'll really hit me two weeks from tomorrow night when it becomes reality again that i am not on a "break" anymore. i'm just done. period. there's something incredibly awesome and incredibly frightening about that thought. awesome, yes, in that i'll feel like myself for more than just one week. frightening, yes, in that i'll then move to worrying, "what if the medicine is all that's been standing in the way of this thing not coming back since this time last year?" even that hypothetical thought puts the cart before the horse, though, right? for that thought to make any irrational sense, i've got to have a clean scan first.

and so, i want to be so much more happy on this day than i am. i want to cry big, happy, tears of joy. i've worked so hard, endured so much to get to tonight. and instead of feeling good, i'm just worrying that something dreadful will show up thursday morning when they look inside me.

certainly, that's got to be normal. i know this. if you find something inside you like cancer once, you are never going to be able to totally let it go. i'm much better now than i was three years ago at the whole "get busy living" thing. but my fears, my anxieties, my paranoia have not been cured. they've just been masked by the short term peace of mind that a clean scan brings.

at this point, i'll take it. even in the short term. you can't put a dollar amount on how valuable peace of mind can be.

because at this point, the fear is paralyzing me on what should be my greatest day of 2013 so far.

fuck this cancer shit.

#2

toxicities present:

mainly just the stomach and the fatigue and the reflux and the chewed up hamburger meat today. i didn't poop my pants, though, so things are trending up.

pain (scaled 1-10):

5