Next week I begin again. It's time to visit the doctors and start phase 3 of this walk with cancer. It is presumed I will begin sometime the week of March 16.I visited my surgeon Monday and he told me I'd had the best 'heal up' he'd ever seen. This was very encouraging to hear from him, but in my heart I already knew this and I told him. He cautioned that the next round of chemo, which will be intensive, could reopen wounds and that I might have to start over with the healing but, surprisingly, he added, "... but I think it's highly unlikely." Well! Encouragement from a doctor! That's a big time 'wow.' I was so happy that he was looking on the bright side. It's been a long time coming.
Faithful readers know that I have Viking roots and wrote about that in a previous entry (http://thegiftofcancer.blogspot.com/2008/07/yes-chemo-doc-comes-round-valkyrie.html). I drew on those roots during the first phase of treatment, when I underwent chemo and radiation at the same time. Now you know why the photo is included above. I do try to keep a sense of humor about these things.
Friends who work in the medical field have told me that though they don't know what type of chemo I'll be on, that intensive means just that, intensive. So, it's possible I could lose some hair and it's possible that I could get really sick. However, this did not happen during the first phase, so I'm going to go with my own personal experience and know that possible means just that, possible.
If I do start to lose my hair, I will invite my friends to shave my head. I want my friends to take my hair, not the chemo. Don't worry - I won't start donning orange robes and get rid of all my shoes, but a Viking Monk is quite a concept! [I wonder if a horn hat would stay put on a bald head ... and red braids [attached to the hat] would clash with the orange robe - so many things to consider!) Kidding aside, I will make a ceremony of losing what may be lost in the course of treatment, because the loss will allow the gain. We shall see what gifts come from this.
My faithful friend, Joe, sent me a beautiful poem he found in a periodical he reads. I think it is fitting to end this post with that poem. It is so true, and I love the poem. You will find it below.
So, my horn hat is ready, I'm summoning all my faith and courage, and I will embrace any fears surrounding this phase of treatment, let them fall at my feet, and move gracefully beyond them. I can do it.
What cheers me the most are, ironically, the words my surgeon told me after my second surgery, when I was so very ill. He put his hand on my arm and said, "You're past the worst of this now, kid." I think I looked at him with an incredulous look on my face. It had not dawned on me that this was the case. What good news. I will offer updates as I have them and as I can. Thanks for listening.
Cancer Is So Limited
It cannot cripple Love.
It cannot shatter Hope.
It cannot corrode Faith.
It cannot destroy Confidence.
It cannot kill Friendship.
It cannot shut out Memories.
It cannot silence Courage.
It cannot invade the Soul.
It cannot reduce Eternal Life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.
It cannot lessen the power of the Resurrection.
1 comments:
Well, personally, I think you would look just adorable if you shaved your head and wore your viking cap with the braids!
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