I haven't written in a while. I had nothing to say. Well, that's not true. I had a lot to say but I couldn't find the right words and I was in such a hole that I didn't want to share my thoughts. Because sharing these thoughts would mean that I would have to accept what has been going on and I just wanted to hide my head under the pillow and wait out the storm. But cancer doesn't blow out to sea. It's strong and steady.
Fear
After the final chemo treatment I became very depressed. Instead of relief I experienced a newfound type of fear and the "now what" syndrome became magnified. And then my PET scan results came in. I don't know why, but I just knew before I even read them that something would show up. I wasn't being negative. I just had this gut feeling. Gut feelings suck. Actually, everything about my gut sucks. Although my stomach was clear, a new spot on my peritoneum showed up and looked "highly suspicious". Highly suspicious brought some big ass tears. I tried to hold it together to call Billy but I couldn't, and believe it or not, this is one of those moments that I thought "God, it sucks to be him". Because what the hell can he say? How can he find a way to comfort me? And how is he supposed to get through the rest of the day with that news? I don't envy his position in all of this. It has to be grueling.
Game changer
So the new results obviously changed my course of treatment. The spot is .7 cm and on my peritoneum close to my stomach. Just so you don't have to look it up: the peritoneum is the membrane that lines the abdominal cavity. I met with the stomach surgeon. His original plan of a partial gastrectomy turned into a total gastrectomy but it was irrelevant any way. The surgery is tough and recovery is too. Plus I wouldn't be able to start back on chemo for 7-12 weeks. If there are more cancerous cells in that area, they would have a lot of time to spread and I would basically be a sitting duck. So then I met with my oncologist and he was in complete agreement: it was time to head back to chemo. I would keep the same regimen of every other week of infusion and then taking home a 46 hour pump of meds into my port. This time we will be adding another chemo boosting drug. The first drug they tried had to be taken out because it was the root cause of my neuropathy. This new booster "irinotecan" does not cause neuropathy but it has a whole slew of possible side effects that I am super psyched for. The big ones are diarrhea and hair loss. That's an awesome combination. But my doc sounded more optimistic than usual and I truly felt relieved leaving those appointments. I knew in my heart that removal of my stomach was a big deal and I wasn't ready for this. The long hospital stay, feeding tubes, never eating like a normal person again, and losing a ton of weight just started to sound a lot scarier than chemo. It's still in my future but we will revisit the idea in 6 months to a year.
Back in the saddle
So I've been so foggy that I'm already 2 treatments in and I had to stop writing because I just couldn't concentrate. The fog has been bad and a new sense of fatigue has taken over. As of now, I have not lost my hair but if it's going to happen, it should happen next week. It's very bizarre waiting for hair loss. Billy and I both went in thinking "hair schmair". It'll grow back. But then I realized that is total bullshit and I am going to have a total meltdown if I lose it. It's very bizarre getting one prescription for diarrhea and another one for a prosthetic hair piece. Ya know, just in case either one should present themselves. So I'm back in the saddle, but the horse doesn't seem to be moving. I'm at a standstill, AGAIN.
Silence wasn't golden
So I shut up and shut this blog out for numerous reasons. Number one: my depression was at one point crippling. I was ashamed, but that shame passed and I realized I've made it this far without any medicinal aides and that's pretty impressive. Plus the antidepressant I have been put on was mostly for my neuropathy and it has drastically improved my quality of life. Number two: I didn't want to disappoint anyone. One of the hardest calls I had to make was to my parents letting them know my test results. I feel like everyone was so happy with my last results and I didn't want to bring them down from that high. Number three: I was scared and I am scared. And I'm sad and I'm angry. And all of this is normal but keeping it in didn't work. So I'm back. I need this. I need you guys. I need the honesty. I need my inappropriate cancer humor to get me through this.
Speaking of inappropriate humor, can I just say that the breast cancer floor is was more hoppin than my gastric floor? I went down there for genetic testing and asked if I can stay. Everyone talks to each other. Women in their wigs are laughing and I'm stuck with old men taking naps in chairs. Please feel free to give me suggestions on how to spice up my cancer floor. It's lame.
Last Thing:
I really missed you guys and all of your support. Thank you for not giving up on me even when I pushed you away. Be it weekly cards, chemo packages, texts, or meals. Even though I was a mess, I still appreciated every act of kindness and love.
Okay, this is it, I swear!
I added a pic of Sam because no matter how depressing this gets, my family keeps me pushing. I'm very blessed to have something so beautiful and amazing to fight for.