This morning it was going to be another early morning bike ride to the hospital – this time for pre-op blood tests and two xrays – but I woke up feeling quite queasy and tired so had to go by taxi instead (though I did cycle back). My appointment with the anaesthetist is for September 2nd, the same morning I see the oncologist again (will definitely have my travel scrabble game with me for that one!). And it is supposed that sometime between now and then I will be told the date of the liver surgery.
As for progress …
This third time round with the chemo I realised that I need to develop a lot more patience for the first ‘icky-sicky’ week, as well as not push myself too much once I start feeling a bit better during the second week. Also, I should sleep more. It seems that each cycle gets a bit harder so I need to really pay attention to how my body is feeling.
I’ve also been able to let go of some of my fears. This has a lot to do with a phone conversation I had with raincoaster the day after the last chemo session. Although I wasn’t actually able to string two coherent sentences together myself, I was able to listen, and it helped me a lot to hear about the no-nonsense way that Rain dealt with her cancer treatment. So thanks for that, honey.
Because I just couldn’t get that 50/50 prognosis thing out of my head. You know, I’d be walking around here looking at my beautiful Sevilla, or at home playing with my gorgeous cats, and in the back of my mind I’d be wondering if this was going to be my last summer, if I’d still be around this time next year, or even if I’d get through the surgery okay. It wasn’t being negative or pessimistic; at the time it seemed like I was just being realistic. But the truth is that nobody knows how this is going to turn out, so it doesn’t actually make sense to think one outcome might be more likely than another. Especially with 50/50 odds. Which is really what taking things one day at a time means – not just doing the carpe diem thang but really staying in the present. And it’s taken me, oh, these past three months, to start getting the hang of it. I’m still dreading the liver op, but trying not to dwell on that too much. Much better to look forward to my upcoming visit from Sara & Steve. 🙂
Other news – I’ve lost another two kilos! And I’m certainly not trying to lose weight. I mostly eat whatever I want whenever I want, and there’s a lot of comfort food action going on, which is never low-cal. Plus I’m hardly doing anything. I really thought I’d put on weight until I got on the scales the other day. So that’s a good thing … I hope.
And that’s about it. I’ve got my ‘good week’ coming up after this weekend and can’t wait to drink granizados de limón and frozen cosmos again.
casa azahar 
Well take care of yourself. Yes, each cycle gets harder but you get better at preparing and handling them, better at setting your expectations.
You’re living, you’re not taking notes for posterity. Enjoy the moment and arrange your life to have as many enjoyable moments as you can, even if they are no more intense than lying by a window and watching the clouds.
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We, all of us, only have today. As the song says, yesterday’s gone and tomorrow may never come. Enjoy what you can while you can.
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What they said…. None of us come with a tag that says “This is how long you have” and if all of us spent at least part of our day just enjoying it for what it has to offer, we’d all be a lot better for it, no matter if it is our first, our 10,000th, or our last day.
As you say, it isn’t pessimism, it is realism and reality has a way of sneaking up on us.
Take a lesson from your cats…. They don’t count the days, they just live them.
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I saw the movie “The Bucket List” last weekend over at my friend Jeri’s place. It is a very good flick, made me cry (of course). I couldn’t help but think of you as I watched it. The difference here is you have been given a 50/50 prognosis. The two guys in the movie were told they had less than six months to live, no question about it.
Ultimately, none of us knows exactly how long we have. I could walk out and get in my car and be hit by a semi truck and killed instantly five minutes later. I could also be hit by lightning due to my fascination for powerful storms and my penchant for going outside and watching the lgiht show.
What is hard is having all this sickness and weakness in your path. I’m sure I would be terribly impatient and angry if I had the same experience in store.
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It is true what you all say – that none of us know how much time we have left and that we should all be getting the most out of each and every living moment. Sometimes I used to try and live each day as if it were my last, but I could never really trick myself into believing I was going to get hit by a bus, or whatever.
I guess until it happens, none of us know how we would respond to being told there is a very real chance of dying, possibly in the very near future.
The day I got my prognosis (the same day Nog left town for a month) was followed by my first chemo session three days later. And I totally fell apart. Everything felt black and scary and I was convinced that it was the beginning of the end and I was going to be dead within a few months … I’ve never felt so terrified and alone in my life.
After awhile the very black chemo cloud lifted somewhat, but I still couldn’t shake a deep feeling of loss and sadness and kept having thoughts about how I’d thrown away so much of my life, wasted time, etc. And there was always the FEAR lurking about the very real chance of dying.
And now I’ve finally managed to put all that ‘on a shelf’, at least for the moment. I know it’s all still there – the fear and sadness – but frankly, I’ve got a job to do. Which is to get through the next few months of my treatment the best I can, and do whatever it takes to make sure I don’t waste any more time. Which specifically means not sweating the small stuff and, as Rain said, making sure I arrange things every day so as to have as many pleasant moments as possible.
And you guys are helping me with that. Leaving comments here, sending emails, playing scrabble, twittering … it’s all contact and it all feels good. Because sometimes the days get very long, you know? So it’s great being able to spend time with my friends online. Thanks for that, everyone.
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Weird, I went in for minor (really, really minor) surgery last Friday. Just some skin “tags” removed from a Private Place. 🙂
Stay well, think good thoughts and we will too, deal?
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“Look thy last on all things lovely every hour.”
Walter de la Mere.
I’ll try to pop by your blog more frequently in future, az.
TRiG.:)
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I had to google “skin tags”, zoomer, as I’d never heard of them before. Still planning your trip here for late October?
Hey TRiG – what a nice surprise! And what a lovely quote – thank you. Yeah, haven’t been around h2g2 for ages so it would be great to see you here more often. 🙂
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Hi Az, got sent over from hootoo. I had no idea you’d had a prognosis. 😦
I hope you’re feeling a bit better.
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Sorry you had to look that up! I hope there were no pictures.
Yes, late October all things being equal. I haven’t booked anything so far but that’s the current plan. Still good for you two?
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Hey Elentari, nice to see you here! I’m feeling quite good this week, thanks.
Late October sounds perfect, zoomer. I should be pretty much recovered from the op and not yet back on chemo. It’ll be good to have something to look forward to. 🙂
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Az, to quote a Doors song (I think). “No one here gets out alive.”
I think of it as the price of admission, for being alive and all the amazing things we get to experience, and the wonders we see in this life.
Speaking of which, I almost got a chance to make the evening news, on Sunday! I was crossiing the street to the light rail train, and tripped on the tracks — in front of a moving train. Fortunately it was moving very slowly as it was just moving up to pick up passengers past the construction zone it was detouring around.
I need to remember the Carpe Diem thing myself a bit, and slow down. {{Hugs}}
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I wonder how many close calls happen to us without us even noticing them, SC.
I keep thinking I should be learning something from all of this so that I will end up a wiser and better person once it’s all over. Some days are better than others in that respect.
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I notice them, dammit. People in SUV’s keep trying to run over me on my scooter, because they don’t see me way down there.
BTW, if I’m making it better by being a twit on twitter, and letting you beat me at Scrabble, I’m only too happy to help.
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