I tried my best to bring on the luck o' the Irish a day early. It didn't quite go as I wanted. I skipped the lab work, as I'd already had blood drawn the day before, and went straight into one of Dr. Cole's waiting rooms. After a nurse finished checking me in, an oncology Fellow introduced herself and started to relay the bad news that Cadcyla wasn't working to prevent tumors from growing.
The good news was that my brain was still clear and that there is a new drug to try, so I did not yet need to resort to trials.
Dr. Cole came in and explained the rest.
My: "Okay, let's see what we got" face.
New lesions in my hip bones. "Don't fall," Dr. says.
New tumor on my aorta. YUCK!
New growths in liver.
New growths in peritoneum. One Big Daddy, in particular.
Inflammation in lungs, due to drug reaction. (Dr. Cole said it looked similar to Covid lungs, but wasn't.)
My: "Well, Dammit!" face.
Sent home with no infusion and sad feelings, but with a possible new plan.
A new drug, Enhertu, which reminds me of something from Star Wars, is up to bat. All we need now is for me to have an updated ECHO and for insurance to cover the new drug. I'm hoping this one will be aggressive enough to make the tumors melt, but not too aggressive to make me weak.
I texted Stephen after the news; called my mom on the drive home; stopped for lunch with my friend/cancer driver; talked with Stephen when I got home; talked to my aunt and grandmother, who were waiting at my house; told the boys when they got home from school; went to my dark closet to feel sorry for myself; ugly cried on the phone with my BFF; took another bath, dried off and wrapped up in the towel; sat in bed to watch mindless tv and fell asleep; missed family dinner; woke up still feeling frustrated and sorry for myself, wondering if I should quit cancer and let nature take its course.
On actual St. Patrick's day, I made up my mind. Thanks to lots of love and positive comments from family and friends; deep thoughts in another long bath; talking to another good friend, who managed to Jedi Mind Trick me, plus many more personal signs, I knew what needed to be done.
I could not give up. I have too much to still live for. I don't feel ready to die. I know that there is good I still have to do. I know I would not be happy with myself if I became hopeless and faithless and forgot all the miracles that have had to happen in order to get me this far.
And then I came across this gem of a scripture:
Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.
I cannot deny that I have only made it through the last eight years, trying to stomp out this disease with all my might, but only being successful through my hope and faith and soul anchored in Christ, my willingness to influence others for good and to keep hoping for a better world, should my battle be over, with me losing the earthly battle. Surely, there is more to do? As long as there are new drugs on deck, God is showing me that I should hope and try and have the faith to continue, even if that faith is to show that I can keep it up, even without the answer I truly seek.
Let's kick it.
Wonderful post, daughter❣️👍 Ready to keep fighting with & for you!😇💞
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