Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

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I feel shitty this morning. My back hurts, and I'm worried it's cancer. Then I worry it's psychosomatic. I feel nauseous all the time, and we cancelled chemo, so that's not it. I think I'm just sick about this diagnosis, scared completely out of my brains, continuing to hear words like "palliative care" which is a nice way to say, "We'll make you the most comfortable we can while you die." I'm a wreck.

So, the news. We went the the Cancer Center at CU in Denver yesterday. Dr. Tang was very nice. He asked about what we do for a living, which made me feel very human and seen, something that those of you who know me well know I value in a human being--the willingness to see. He looked at the identical pathology and PET scan results and recommended hormonal therapy before we start chemo. This is a radically different recommendation than what we received in Loveland. So we're confused again, at a decisions crossroads again. I was really pumped about starting chemo--it felt like I was doing something, like it would be a STRONG choice, would kill the cancer while it ravaged my body. This doctor--indeed, the whole staff--nurse, clinical trials manager--were calm, not rushed, not dire, not at all hopeless. Clark felt vindicated. I remain confused.

As is per my usual, I'm scared to upset the people who worked so hard to get me into get a port this morning and into chemo later this morning. I called to cancel it all given this new information. I don't know why, when my life is on the line, I'm still scared to upset people. It's ingrained so deeply, apparently, that I can't turn it off.

The doctor in Denver seems to think since I'm not symptomatic that it's too early to start chemo. He also says whether we start chemo now or later doesn't seem to affect outcomes anyway. He seemed to think that hormonal therapy will improve my quality of life now since I'm not symptomatic. It feels like a nice way to say "You're not really dying rapidly yet, so we don't want to make you really sick until we have to." On the other hand, he seems to think the technology has advanced so well that some people can live with metastases to the bone much like people now live with AIDS--as a chronic disease.

I can't think of another word for how I feel right now other than frantic. I find myself being afraid that if we don't do something NOW the cancer is going to spread at lightning speed and before long it will be too far gone for anything to happen.

Yesterday I was brave. Today I'm scared to death. Go figure.

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