Mayo Appointments Set

Next Wednesday I start appointments at 6:20 in the MORNING (which I tried not to look at with a sense of foreboding since I'm not at all a morning person). We do the scans (MRI and CT) in the morning, meet with my oncologist at 4:30 (by which point he'll presumably have read the scans), and then see a surgical oncologist Thursday morning. Beyond that is anyone's guess, obviously depending a great deal on what the scans do (hopefully do NOT) reveal.

I'm working up through Tuesday because sitting at home seems rather pointless. Apparently my positive energy befuddles many people but I still don't understand the point of wallowing. Am I scared? Of course, I'm terrified! However, whether I'm fine or not, I don't think spending days a witchy, irritated, angry, depressed mess is going to cure cancer (but let me know if you read any research otherwise... I can change! Ha!)

Eric and I spent all of last weekend burning nervous energy by moving our bedroom into the basement bedroom (which I've been working on for a few months), and then moving Kile into our old room. Of course, lots of gallons of paint again, but if you know that side of me, you already know that Eric kids me about my monthly paint budget. I had intended on my next post simply being a "look what I did to my house" blog, but life doesn't always work out that way. Regardless, since I'm totally determined to not become derailed, here's some photos of what we've done:

Here's what our basement bedroom used to look like:













And here's now:


And here's our old room... and it's new touches from Kile...











My Mom thinks maybe this weekend I'll paint the garage... maybe, if it weren't 10 below zero!

Carpe diem. - Trela

Here We Go Again...

Last week, after Eric tired of me asking him to check out a weird vein on my chest for about the 100th time, he set up an appointment for my at my oncologist's office. Unfortunately, my regular doc was out of town, and I totally refused to see someone new. I compromised by rescheduling for this Monday and in the interim called my plastic surgeon to see if he'd take a peek.

I saw Dr. B. last Thursday, and he decided he didn't know what the bump was, but that we should take it out, which he did as a minor outpatient procedure on Friday. This morning the call came to let me know that my suspicions were confirmed: 1. I know my own body freakishly well, 2. apparently I didn't want my sister's approaching wedding to upstage me in the slightest, and 3. I must miss the Mayo Clinic.

So yep, it's back. (What movie is that where the character says "He's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack?" It's been driving me nuts all day...) Fortunately I still had my onc appointment with my regular doc today (and I actually apologized for going over his head and having surgery without his approval... I have issues, I know). Clearly the main hope is that the cancer hasn't spread and that this relatively small tumor is it. It was literally centered behind my scar, so I have huge hope that there's nothing else anywhere in my body. We'll first need to do some scans (likely at Mayo, likely later this week) to confirm there's no spread, and then I'll need to have more surgery in order to be sure we've gotten clear margins. A treatment course beyond that is determined by the spread or lack thereof of the cancer.

The good news is that in the last 18 months there's been more research and more literature published on my ridiculously rare type of cancer, so I'm less frightened than I was the first time. Today I'm really calm, and was actually in a good mood pretty much all day. The weekend was tough, mostly because I was sure I knew what was coming...

Last Thursday, following my appointment with my plastic surgeon, I called one of my best friends at school and left her a message letting her know what was going on. I was anxious and just didn't want to face heading home alone yet, so I went to a store to run some errands. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my friend's very distinctive car sitting in front of the same store I was headed to. I walked in, and there she was, the only person at the register. Exactly who I needed to see just then... I felt immensely better, and then the situation improved even more -- I wandered through the garden section (yes, in January) and saw a sign in front of me. I paused, momentarily confused because the only part of the sign I could see said "RELA" and of course, I read my name. Walking closer, I saw that an "X" was hidden behind a shelf, and that the sign really said "RELAX." Next to it was a sign totally out of it's place that read "Be Still and Know that I AM God." At a time in my life where I desperately needed a sign, He gave me one, literally.

Carpe diem. - Trela