A visit to the Oncologist

Today has been my first formal introduction into the world of cancer. I have an appointment with an Oncologist: a cancer doctor.

I don’t like her. She is detached and doesn’t meet my eye. She also starts the session asking me what I think has happened to me ….. like WTF???? I’ve been dreaming, breathing, walking, living in the shadow of ACC for over a year and she asks me if I understand what has happened to me like I’m a small child.  I give her the most medically accurate detached case profile account of my case I can - whilst bottling the impulse to beat her round the head with her clipboard.

The rest of the session is a series of questions and explanations but all I really remember is

1, IV chemo will suck.

2, It might not work. (and by work I mean slow it down not cure it)

Depressing much???

I have to say the even though I am intelligent and clued up on my situation, that does not prevent the fact that most of the session sails way over my head and I am left upset and confused. To anyone reading I must emphasise the importance of having someone else with you and getting a contact for the questions that will flood in when you have the chance to think properly.

The big decision for me now is whether or not to wait to pull the trigger that is IV chemo. With my situation the best I can hope for if at all is an extension of time but that time is likely to be spent tied to the apron strings of the hospital and the list of ‘nevers’ that rolls around my mind will grow ever longer! The doctors are a series of enigmas, they don’t know and can’t predict anything: it is all down to me.

Numbly I tell them we will think about it. All I am sure of is that with D and my parents expectantly waiting is that I need time (ironically) and that I don’t want to eat in the hospital cafeteria again. We go to a restaurant not far down the road, but it is far enough for my panic to have snowballed into a feeling somewhat akin to being insane. So much so I irrationally scream at some young students squealing in delight over god knows what, to SHUT UP!!!

So chemo now or wait? Now or wait? Now or wait? Now or wait? Now or Wait?

No one can give me an answer: I must make the decision. I, who up until now, cannot even decide which shirt to wear must make the decision over my own death.

In the end the result is to wait. I… We are going to try and leach every moment available to us with this quality of life left to me before I pull that trigger. That means another scan in about a month to assess changes and I can’t say I feel very hopeful right now, but do I really have time for depression, time to waste railing about how unfair it all is? No. As I said time is precious and I must do everything I can with what I have been given.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade right?  :s