We met with the medical oncologist yesterday and the infusion room nurses. We already knew we liked Dr. P, but the nurses were awesome! So funny and my type of humor. The nurses were very excited and happy to see that I had a port. It makes their lives easier. My life still sucks with the port in my body. I've kept my left arm sem-immobile and now it's frozen a bit. I don't have full range of motion, which can be fixed with some exercise/physical therapy. I may come to like it over the next 12 weeks. But stay tuned to see if I do a "yippee-do-da! I love my port" blog entry - but don't hold you breath.
The first infusion aka chemotherapy is scheduled for October 2nd. I will have four infusions, once very 3 weeks. By my calendar, that last infusion is right around Christmas. Bah humbug!
However, I am still trying to decide if I want chemotherapy. No, don't get alarmed and call me. Unless you are calling to volunteer to come over and do windows or pull weeds.
I know the percentages are in my favor if I do chemotherapy - 18% chance of recurrence if I do chemotherapy versus 30% chance of recurrence if I don't. But let's say it another way, like the political spin doctors. I have a 70% chance of NOT having a recurrence and I get to keep my hair, not poison my body, not miss work, not miss out on life.
This is a tough decision. And I am so mad that I have to make it. I am so angry that cancer has invaded my life, my husband's life, my children's lives, etc. I know there are people out there with worse cancers than mine and I do feel so whiney/wimpy for feeling the way I do right now. It could be a lot worse. I'll get my fighting attitude back in a while, but right now I'm angry. And that's okay.
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Peace - over and out.