Confessional Diaries - Volume 1 - Issue 3 posted 11/11/2008 4:22:29 PM | 12 kudos what's this?     report abuse tagged: cancer, life, change, hope, love

funisnumber1

All I can see is everyone’s eyes. Eyes of the doctor who has delivered bad news too many times. Eyes of my sister who has been crying all night, but refuses to cry now. Eyes of my husband, who can't look me in the eye. "What?" We need to confirm with the lab that you have cancer. "I'm not pregnant?" No honey. "I have cancer?". Its looks that way honey. Lets just wait and see. Its not for sure. They can’t possibly know.

Dr. Gibbs knows.

Fast-forward one month. Back in the OR, this time with Dr. Irish. He’s the MAN when it comes to ensuring all malignant tissue is gone. Say goodbye to ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, and cervix. Anything and everything that can be tied to the growing malignant tissue. Coming out of surgery this time I was more aware. He tells me that I probably won’t need radiation. He’ll talk it over with Dr. Gibbs.

Note to Dr. Irish. I realize the initial surgery was for removal of an ectopic, and therefore placement of the incision wasn’t the greatest for hysterectomy and oofectomy, but couldn’t you have cut the same place open again? I mean, 140 sutures in my muscle sheath above the original incision site? Where I already had 103 sutures in the muscle sheath? Ppffttttt Well, you WERE the man. I didn’t need the radiation. Hal-le-frickin-leujah.

Fast forward one month. Chemo begins. The place is happy. The nurses are amazing, caring, wonderful, happy, cheerful. The process is tedious. Hours spent in a recliner with bags of poison dripping into my veins. I make notes to bring CDs, Videos, crosswords, books, crocheting. Anything to pass the time. My sister is with me that first visit. She’s extremely aware and interested in everything going on. 5 hours later we’re in the car and she tells me, “I found a lump”. My world is spinning again.

Fast forward one month. My sister and I are sitting in Dr. Gibbs office, hooked up to chemo bags. We are teaching each other how to crochet. We are writing journals for our children. We have decided to cut off our hair so that it will take longer to fall out. I did the Susan Powter doo. She just shaved hers. We are clinging to each other like our lives depend on it. Her husband died in a plane crash when her children were small and I’m all she had. My husband just died inside and checked out of the marriage so she was all I had. I still feel sorry for him to this day. Addictions that get us through. Another story, another time.

Fast forward to 2000. I am done with 16 months of chemo. My sister has had to endure radiation treatments that caused severe burns to her lungs. She is done with chemo. We dance and sing.

Fast forward 6 months. Pete’s cancer has spread to her liver, bones, brain and stomach. I quit my job, cash out my retirement, cash out my stocks, buy a huge house on 10 acres with a stream, eagles, deer and a hospital near by. A place for The Woman to enjoy beauty, family, laughter. Big enough for all our loved ones to rabble rouse. Has to be big to hold her heart and her love. Dr. Gibbs gave her 6 months. She made it 2 years.

She died February 12, 2003.

I am celebrating 8 years cancer free this month. This is the time of year when I get a little freaked out. I’m avoiding the BRCA1 and BRCA2 tests. My tumor marker tests, mammogram and other tests are always in December. Its hella hard on the old system to think about these things and share them with my family before Christmas. I think on the loss of my child and realize how he saved me. The gift I lost is the gift I found. Because of him/her, I was able to be there and hold my sister's hand. I was able to be here for my other kids. I am still standing.

I love you angel. Keep watching over me. Keep on saving me.

Dr. Gibbs is without a doubt, the most amazing oncologist I’ve ever known. I hope I never have to know another oncologist as long as I live. He was at work by 5:00am seeing his patients, and he was still at work at 9:00 pm seeing his patients. Monday thru Sunday. Hats off to him. He’s a veteran of another war that never seems to get anywhere.

My confession – I’m a cancer survivor. And I’m selfish as hell. I know what it is like to love someone with your whole heart and watch them waste away. My chances are 50/50. Asking someone to return the love I have for them is pretty self-centered. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought ever since I signed up to find someone for whatever works. Its been 8 years, and I don’t want to waste another minute. I’m asking too much I think.

But my hair? Its down to my ASS people! WOOO HOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)

Blogs by funisnumber1: The Shadow Cast Cascadence In The Dark Days Like These On The Verge Lessons from Ducks – Part 2 Saturday Night at the Forum(s) Wisdom From a Duck – lesson 1 Learning to cry Herpes.. ..Professionals…. A letter to a trusted one..... A Moment of Silence Confessional Diaries - Volume 1 - Issue 3 Confessional Diaries - Volume 1 - Issue 2 Confessional Diaries - Volume 1 - Issue 1