An Extra Week!

Yesterday, I was supposed to get my 5th round of chemo. I've had such a hard time the past week or so, and I really wondered if I would make it through another session!
I kept getting so short of breath, and I seemed to go down hill instead of getting better as the days went by.

I told the Dr. how I felt, and surprisingly, he took me seriously! I got an extra week off. I felt like a kid who got an extension on her term paper because the dog ate it!

He did examine the tumor site, dug into my armpits again, and the word he used was "Amazing!" He felt nothing there at all. He also gave me some options: Quit all together (NOT an option for ME), take a week off, or stop the chemo and go see the surgeon and see if he would do the mastectomy now. I have a week to consider the last two options. I'll see how I feel next Wednesday morning.

It's strange how my emotions play games with me. As much as I HATE this chemo journey and as hard as it has been, and even though I have said I'm NOT going back for another one ----------- all the Dr. had to say was, "I would rather you get more chemo!" and it was like a panic came over me ---- what would happen if I DIDN'T get more???? Would it come back again later because I chose NOT to have #5?????? It's stange how you don't want it, but you DO!

I HATE the waiting room! It seems that every time I go there, someone has a story that just replays over and over in my mind. Yesterday, a older lady (that is, older than ME) was sitting by me, and asked if I was there for chemo and how many I had had already. I told her I was having a hard time with it and about the breathing, etc., and she said that she had had that, too, and it was just anxiety attacks and panic, etc. I tried to analyze myself quickly to find an answer, and didn't think I had been anxious or panicked about anything when this happened. Can a shower really cause a panic attack????? Then she said that she had been given two years to live, but now was in her 10th year since her Breast Cancer and was there for a check up, etc. When I told her what stage my cancer was, she just said, "Well, good luck to you!" It was the tone of voice that stuck with me and made me feel like she thought I wouldn't make it! I just said, thank you!

But then, across from me, sat a man who looked so miserable --- more miserable than I felt, for sure. His wife was "Mrs. Cheerful" --- talked with everyone and very bubbly! I had met her before and she asked how I was doing, etc., etc. As the conversation went on, I asked about her husband, and she said that this was his 17th chemo and he would be on it the rest of his life! Suddenly, my problems seems VERY small in comparison. I don't know what type of chemo he was getting or the dosage, but I KNEW I would NEVER live through that on what I was getting! He didn't look so good himself and wondered what he was thinking about it all, but he said nothing. I don't think I'll ever forget his face, nor the face of the 10 year survivor who offered me little hope! In fact, during the night that seemed to bring no sleep at all, I thought about both of them and prayed that the Lord would be with them as they journeyed through this horrible thing called Cancer!

No, I never got my Reubens! But I did get my steak, and tonight I get my pizza. And I've had this horrible craving for ----- of all things ----- hot dogs! I was so humiliated yesterday when they weighed me! After losing 7 pounds the last time I was there, that stinking scale shot up, and I had gained 10 back!!!!! Now, you tell me, how in the world can you gain 10 pounds on Cream of Wheat cereal and Chicken Noodle soup?????