I Don't Belong Here

My last illness-related post was titled: "Life Before and After". The last few months has quickly reminded me that there will be lots and lots of "afters". After diagnosis, after surgery, after radiation. The latest installment is chemotherapy, and I am in my last days of the 'before', starting Tuesday I am a chemotherapy patient.

I got my license back on June 3. My 30 days of radiation concluded on June 4. On June 5, I turned 37 years old. June was a pretty decent month.

We knew that after radiation, I would be recommended to complete a regiment of chemotherapy. I learned in late June that this regiment would be a 6 week cycle consisting of two different oral medications and one medication administered twice via infusion.

And this 6-week cycle repeats a total of six times. SIX. So 36 weeks of chemotherapy. Yipe.

Some of the bubbles to watch while you wait.

MD Anderson is an amazing facility. Everyone that works there is pleasant, joyful even, and the cutting edge work they are doing is incredible. That being said, as I sit in the waiting rooms - so many waiting rooms - watching the fish, or the bubbles or just watching the other people who all have their own version of my white patient bracelet, all I can think is - I don't belong here. My husband and I hold hands as we walk the halls from elevator to elevator, behind countless other couples doing the exact same thing. That makes sense. We're in this together. We just aren't 'supposed' to be in this yet. According to the average age of other couples at MDA, we are about 30 years premature in this horrible journey.

We returned to MDA last week to repeat testing to ensure there are no major mental deficits after my surgery, conduct a new 'baseline' MRI and learn the specifics of my next treatment.

This is my brain. This is my brain after surgery.

My MRI looks as good as it can, lots of tumor is gone, much of the remaining area could be scar tissue or swelling, the doctors that know what they're looking at are pleased. It is a strange thing, looking at a picture of your head with a huge hole where there used to be brain and being told its a good thing, all is well, everything went as well as possible. But the thing is, my next 9 months will be spent getting blood work done each week, having MRIs every 6 weeks and taking very potent drugs in pill form and intravenously. My diet needs to be altered (no fermented foods including cheese, soy sauce, cured meats, alcohol, and lots of other random things - but CHEESE!! And WINE!!!), I will probably be super tired, potentially nauseated, and lots of other, less common side effects. I'm hoping for the best - and doing my best to prepare for the worst.

I'm pretty scared. I am back in the anticipatory wait-for-what-comes-next chair and this time it will be a much longer ride from when the Before becomes the After.

Wish me luck.