A Lost Story

   

                                                                         Everyday is a brand new day, 

                                                                         everyday is a journey.

The other day, I spent the morning cleaning out files in my computer. I came across a few stories I've written during some of my past treatments. I have no idea why I never posted them. Perhaps, I had a plan of sorts to make them into a series. I thought to myself, why not post them now.  Just remember everyone, this isn't me now. This is the past during one of the 4 re-occurrences I've had. Enjoy.

Here I am returning once again on this same road that I have traveled countless of times. Back to the oncologist for those dreaded results. These past couple of days have been murder on my nerves and in a way, I have resolved myself to the outcome.

Another sleepless night. Lord, will I ever rest again? I am so very tired. How I would love to lay my head down and sleep a peaceful and restful slumber. Overthinking is never good for anyone.

Normally, I bring along my "chemo bag" filled with books to read, puzzles and plenty of yarn for crocheting to keep my mind preoccupied at the doctors. Today none of that worked. My mind wandered hopelessly from one subject to the next, unable to focus on any one thing.

It didn't help that the waiting room was overflowing with patients.  The constant barrage of men and women between labs, pharmacy, chemo treatments and doctor visits,  felt stifling and overwhelming to me. I felt as if I couldn't breathe, feeling claustrophobic.  My brain all scattered as my eyes darted back  and forth across the crowded room. Everyone had the same monotone expression on their faces. After all, it was a cancer clinic.

Walking to the examining room with a new nurse I have never seen before, I felt a little out of place. It's been over six months since I saw my oncologist. Already there were changes evident in such a short time. I didn't recognize any of the patients in the waiting room. The receptionist at the front desk had a new procedure for me to follow. Everything seemed different somehow.

Once inside, all my beautiful and lovely nurses came rushing over to say hello. For the next few minutes, there were hugs and smiles all around. Six years, I've been coming to this clinic. We've become friends. Suddenly, I realized that the outward appearance might have changed, but the love, it never left.

My conversation with my doctor left me speechless. I knew that my cancer has returned. I expected to hear all of that. I've even made a mental preparation of what needed to be done. I was preparing myself these past few days for this consultation and she just blew me away.

No chemotherapy? No radiation? Or anything vaguely familiar to me? We're doing hormone treatment, twice daily in pill form? Starting right now? Today?

Talk about shock treatment. I sat there with total amazement written on my face and I could see by her expression, it wasn't what she expected from me at all. I think I shocked her the same way she shocked me.

Shock enveloped me as my mind tried to grasp hold of the unfamiliar territory I was entering. I knew nothing of this treatment and secretly hoped for the same old security blanket of an infusion. This? This was madness. This was the unknown.

The ride home was slow as Friday traffic ensued, the air humid from the constant threat of rain, but I never knew it.  I was all alone inside my head trying to comprehend how  a little pill resembling an aspirin was going to subdue this cancer.

Arriving home, I took my first dosage, had my supper and went to bed. That was the first time in a week that I actually slept fitfully.

Have a blessed day everyone.