(written on 12/31/12 originally on my CaringBridge page)
If it were not for hopes, the heart would break.
~ Thomas Fuller
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling weary … a kind of weary I’ve never felt before. My brain has been on information overload for the past week, while sleep has been scattered at best. Though this is a celebratory evening, one where many will be “rocking” the night away, I want nothing more than to sleep the night away.
Alright . . . the whine session is over. Finito.
I went on an early morning adventure to Boston today with my big sis and John. I had an instant feeling of security when I arrived at DFCI… this sense of comfort started with the registration area and was further solidified when I met the medical oncologist. Instant connection! Sadly, though, pathology reports are still not back on receptor status, which was a bit discouraging. I really hoped our visit would have me leaving with a definitive treatment plan, but we have to wait until we know more. Patience—ughh, a word I have always struggled to put into action.
We did, however, spend a lot of time discussing scenarios ….clinical trials I may be eligible to partake in, chemo meds I will most definitely be having in addition to a trial, and when we can actually start treatment after we finally know these answers. Though it’s not the typical order of treatment (surgery is often first), in my case, it’s still looking like chemo will be the best first approach. If results are back on Wednesday, I could potentially begin chemo on Thursday. So, though I feel like there’s so much waiting going on, the reality is…this has all moved very quickly, given I was just officially diagnosed 5 days ago.
Surgical oncologist was the next stop on our agenda. AMAZING. We fell in love with her, too—instantly. Her level of energy, confidence, compassion, and thoroughness made us instantly “hire” her. We sat with her for a long time, being completely educated on everything breast. John enjoyed it thoroughly. Seriously, though …we received more information in that hour and half then I’ve received in total throughout this process so far.
We were also grateful to get a complete tour of the infusion area, where I will be every couple of weeks during chemotherapy. I can’t help but think the staff were each handpicked for this call on their life. My impression of every face I encountered was that of earnest compassion.
On the way home, Michelle pointed up to a rainbow peeking through the clouds . . . an overwhelming reminder of God’s promises.
Though this dark cloud in my life prevails, my prayer is that very soon I will be basking in the afterglow of the storm.
xoxoxo
SEAGLASS 