First thing — OMG THANK YOU. You people are golden. I read and re-read each and every loving comment and private message, heart warmed, eyes leaking, resting in a knowing certainty that yes, we are all so very connected. Thank you for holding up such beautiful mirrors that through your eyes and hearts I may see myself more clearly.
And please, if you are so moved, keep the love flowing. This is such a surreal time for me. Love helps tremendously.
You know what else helps? A wee complainy post.
I feel mixed about complaining here. I don’t want to wear out my welcome. I want you to want to read what I write. And yet, maybe some of you want more of the picture? So here we go.
Today was the third day in a row (out of four) that we visited Hospital Land.
Day One was two hours spent for naught in the office of a neurosurgeon, because his staff failed to let us (or the front desk) know that he was tied up in surgery. Possible silver lining here is that by postponing my appointment for a week, I had the chance to do a last-minute brain MRI, giving the dude more facts and info for when we do meet.
So it’s not totally a bad thing. But still. Two hours out of our lives.
Day Two was, as you know, brain MRI day plus meeting with a radiation oncologist. I’m still kind of in shock from it all, but writing here and feeling all of you helps. So.
Day Three, today, was RAINY. I need to say this because it just doesn’t rain here. And yet. Rain! All last night! Very exciting for us here in Southern California. Very needed. I’m sorry about all your snow and cold (really!) and I’m also so thankful we live where it’s warm now after decades of snow, cold, and rain.
Anyway, rain. And waking up Very Early, which for me meant 7:30. I’m used to 10-11 hours of sleep every night. And my whole day topsy-turvy, everything upside down. Could not eat before the appointment. Had to drink 32 ounces of water. I know, I know! The horror!
So today was a CT scan of my abdomen, chest, and pelvis, because it’s been like 8 months since I had one and it’s time to see what the little buggers are up to in there (previous tumors, far reduced in size last time we scanned).
Meanwhile my arms are all bruised now from various pokes and IV lines for contrast injections for the scans. And my system is full of the contrast medium they use, which makes my head hurt MORE and makes me feel weird.
And I’ve had three days of people in white coats looking at me like I’m going to die soon.
Lol. As if.
I hope this never happens to you, but if you should ever get a cancer diagnosis, avoid hospitals! If you can. I don’t mean that you shouldn’t get treatment, but just know that the way people treat you sends messages to your body. I believe this. If people are looking at you like you’re going to die soon, what message does that send to your body? Shouldn’t you get to choose? This is why I try to surround myself with vibrant life — people dancing, women’s circles, sexy people, alive people who are doing good in the world and shining their light.
Tomorrow we see an immunotherapy guy. Might get CT results, don’t know yet. Four Hospital Days this week. Plus next Monday’s neurosurgeon appointment, immediately after which I’ve got to be prepared to decide about surgery.
Now I’ve got to go take a bunch of pills and juice a bunch of carrots. Might sneak in a nap later. I’m always tired.
Life is precious. Make your moments count.
Much love, as always.