The on-going, first-hand tale of a journey through medical oncology... and what happens after.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

The big day

OK, so tomorrow is it. I head to the cancer clinic and learn the ropes of my existence for the next six months, and come home hooked up to a little 5-FU pump for two more days. As I understand it, I first get weighed, poked and prodded - this to be sure they have a baseline for my reaction(s) to the treatment and simultaneously to be sure that by blood chemistry and biology is in good enough shape to withstand the coming chemical storm (properly balanced electrolytes, sufficient red and white blood cells and platelets). I am told that they can (and do) adjust the dosages for those of us too biochemically unprepared for that onslaught. More on that as it happens...

So many people have been so kind to me and my family over the last several weeks. I really don't know how to describe (or even if I can describe) what that feels like, but it seems a worthy task to pursue. So here goes...

I feel safe - I have plenty of distraction, should I want it, while I also have enough space and time to be alone with myself. I do not feel overly stressed about much of anything. I relish the challenging work ahead of me - both physically and professionally - but I am also happy with where I am right now. It is almost funny to say, but facing the reality of "end times" and the "wrapping up" thoughts/tasks that we all think are so far in our future, has not diminished the quality of my present times. In fact, I feel like the "now" is enhanced. Even when I am feeling a little frustrated about the lack of completion on my basement remodel (it's sure hard to work on the ceiling mud when you just had abdominal surgery and then another surgery to install a port under your skin above your right pectoral muscle), or that my daughter simply is not ready to go to sleep yet (even after stories, snuggle time, and multiple trips to the bathroom and to ask "important" questions), I know that each of these moments is worthy of remembering, of cherishing. All of these moments pass so quickly from our senses, and can be jumbled or forgotten. So I feel an almost Buddha-ic (is that a word?) peace - and strive to live in those moments.

I sure could have done a lot worse in life... and am thankful for the chance to blog about my luck. :) I don't know how I will feel after the chemo, so don't be surprised if the blog is unattended for a day or so. But hang in there, I promise I'll be back.


Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing your "adventures" with us. We are sending all of our spare karma your way.

Thinking of you,
Sharon & Mike

Anonymous said...

Ed, your stories are filled with honesty and a directness I find refreshing. I think of you every day and am sending you lots of light.