On your mark, Get set...

OK,  All the test are complete.  I've met all the doctor and nurses.  Monday things begin.

I met Dr. Grossman and his nurses.  Both of his nurses knew me.  One was a nurse from the old Holy Cross Hospital, and the other said I played at her wedding.  Really?  I don't remember doing that.  I think our band played and I may have been out of town for that gig. 

Dr. Grossman is a concerned, kind and empathetic man.  He said he was sorry that I had this cancer.  He then went over all the tests that I had and stated that a lot of doctors have been reviewing my case to get things right.  He said, after careful review, I had a stage III throat cancer.  Woo, hold it.  I thought I had a stage II. (Its all about stages at this point).  He went over his reasons and talked about sitting down with several radiologist to go over all the scans in order to get this right.  Bummer, OK.  It is what it is.  He also said that my tumor was positive for the Epstien Barr Virus, EBV.  Probably the cause of my tumor.  They will follow my EBV titers over time to see if they are falling during my treatment. Being stage III still has a good prognosis it just needs more intensive treatment.

We then talked about the treatment.  Because of the stage III diagnosis I would need more Chemo treatments.  I will get 6 weekly treatments of Cisplatin starting this Monday.  And then, because of my stage, I will be the recipient of another 3 treatment (if I can stand it).  Well, if I need it I guess I can stand it, hey?  The side effects are few but may be persistent.  Hearing, peripheral numbness and tingling in the hands and feet, and, of course, nausea were the side effects.  They are going to keep an eye on these during the treatment.

Oh, the hair thing is plus or minus.  Maybe it will go, maybe it will stay.  I will keep you informed on that front.  The Chemo will be every Monday.  It takes about 5 hours to complete.  They have a place called the infusion center where all the chemo takes place.  More on that when I get to experience it. 

Things feel different now,  I have a start date.  I have a schedule.  I can't stop it, no matter how bad I want to.  I now have a little bit of fear and trepidation.  I am going to have to meditate on this one.  I need a little bit more determination as I start this journey.  I feel like I am being pushed off a cliff with a rope on.  The rope is just shorter than the length of the fall.  Hopefully, the rope will stop me right before I hit the ground.  Then, if I survive the fall, they will begin pulling me back up to the top of the cliff.  Recovery.  I was melancholy.  I came home and slept for a few hours.  That's how I cope with things sometimes; I just sleep.

I am grateful for all the people caring for me.  I am grateful for the technology that we have to treat this thing.  I am grateful for the proximity to the Huntsman Cancer Institute.  I am grateful for my community of support. (Some people come down here alone for their treatment. They rent an apartment for a few months and tough this out alone)  I am grateful for Jane. I am grateful for my health.  I am grateful for my spirit. and I am grateful for life.

I feel better now.  Thank you for letting me vent.