Oh my goodness, the past few days have been rough. I finally woke up refreshed (well as refreshed as I get) on Friday and ready to tackle rearranging Madisyn's room with her new futon bed that her dad got her for her birthday. I had to run a few errands and while I'm sitting in the church parking lot (my last errand was there) I get "the" phone call.
"Mrs. Bridges?"
"Yes this is Shannon"
"Hi, this is (insert my doctors name here) from Houston, your oncologist. We got the results of your MRI of your chest back and it doesn't look good. There is much more involvement then we originally thought. There is no way Dr. (insert my surgeons name here)will be able to remove all of this, we are going to have to cancel the surgery. I know this is what you really wanted to do but there will be no benefit to performing the surgery when she will have to leave so much cancer in you still. With your history the best thing for us to do is to have you remain on the Tykerb (a maintenance drug that targets only the cancer cells and not the good cells. I take this medicine daily, 4 pills a day), start you on Lupron (a hormone therapy in the form of a shot that works by telling the pituitary gland located in the brain to stop producing the hormone that stimulates the ovaries to release estrogen), and eventually start you on an Aromatase Inhibitor (Aromatase inhibitors work by blocking the enzyme aromatase, which turns the hormone androgen into small amounts of estrogen in the body. This means that less estrogen is available to stimulate the growth of hormone-receptor-positive breast cancer cells). I am so sorry Shannon, I know how much you wanted this, I wish there were some way we could do this but it is just not reasonable. We will see you back here in November and at that time do a full work up on you."
I could here the tears in her voice. She really knew how much it meant to me to have this operation. She really understood the Hope I had been leaning on. I almost felt as though I was comforting her at first. Assuring her I was okay and I understood why this had to, or should I say, would not happen. I gave her a choked but cherry good bye and hung up the phone. Only at that moment did I fully realize the extent of the conversation I had just had. Even after five years of chemotherapy I had always had Hope that the cancer would be taken out and one day I would be moving forward. All those dreams of life without cancer were crashed with one phone call. All the joy for the day vanished. A deep sickening feeling replaced it. My body now felt like it was made with lead. I managed to drive home and crawl inside, blindly turn on the tv, unaware of what I was watching, and just let the tears fall unconsciously. Madisyn walked in from school moments later talking about redecorating her room. I nodded and mumbled something about laying down in bed and made my way down the hall and passed out. Gone were the plans of cleaning out Madisyn's room, gone were the plans to bring everything to my moms for the garage sale she was holding the following morning, gone was anything but sleep.
I made myself get out of bed Saturday morning and head to my moms garage sale. I maybe sat outside for forty five minutes total when I went inside to lay down. Then made up some excuse to go home and lay down. Ignored phone calls after phone calls, emails after emails, and any other form of communication. There weren't necessarily thoughts going through my head at all, which was weird. It was like everything inside me had died. My awesome friend Liz came over with two of her little girls Saturday after I offered her dinner but I proceded to allow her fumble around in my crack house looking kitchen and cook the supper. I wasn't much company and my house is anything but child friendly, but she didn't care. When I say awesome, Liz is awesome. For the most part I unconsciously stuffed my face. When they left I promptly passed out.
Sunday came around and I forced myself out of bed and to church. We were 30 minutes late but we made it. Pastor Dino preached and I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Just recently I started journaling. I just write. Whatever is going through my head, whether it makes sense or not, I write it. During church Sunday, I wrote to myself that I needed to enjoy everyday that I do have. I realized (for the millionth tiime in the past five years) how lucky I am to still be here with my baby when five years ago I never dreamed I would still be here with her to celebrate her 10th birthday with her. I never dreamed I would see her go to her first day in the fifth grade. I never dreamed I would see thirty. So I told myself to scrape myself off of the ground and pick up the pieces and move on, or well forward. Yes, cancer will always be here. I won't ever need to read any "Life after cancer" books. I will just have to always have to find a way to move forward. To continue to climb my mountains without giving up.
The thought to get up and run, well drive, is there but how do you run away from yourself? No matter where I go, the cancer will still be there, with me. I can run as far away as I want but it will get me absolutely no where. That is when my feelings sink deeper. Running is not an option. Not that I make a habit of running when things get tough but sometimes just the thought makes you feel better. But my imagination knows better.
So Monday I didn't wake up bouncing and back to happy happy joy joy like I wanted. Madisyn was sick so she stayed home and we literally laid around all day being miserable, but it was such a fun miserable. We just enjoyed each others company. I fell asleep by 3:30 that afternoon. My baby made us some Ramon noodles for dinner and turned off all the lights and put her momma to bed. Aside from waking up to eat dinner, and to take medicine twice, I slept until 6:00 the next morning.
Tuesday and today have gone much better and I'm hoping it stays that way. I was started on my Lupron today during my local oncologists appointment. I cried when talking to my doctor about the canceled surgery, my doctor teared up with me but even she said there was no way to do the surgery. I've got to say it has felt really good to have such a wonderful team on my side. My doctors are more then I could ever ask for. Even my oncologist in Houston who I have only known for not even a year is like another one of the girls with me. They all understand and want more then anything for me to have a miracle. I am so lucky.
Today I am refreshed with an understanding that God is taking care of me. I don't know His Plan and probably never will but He does and that's all that matters.
I love you and all that you are. Having faith in god even when we don't understand his plans.......
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