Temper tantrums

Yesterday, I felt like a two year old having a temper tantrum. I don’t wanna! I screamed to myself as tears dripped down my eyes.

I got a call from the surgery scheduler. They were awaiting word from my oncologist about chemo scheduling. After talking they conferred with my oncologist, I got word that the plan is to do chemo on Thursdays until the end of the month, do the first surgery on November 19, and the second surgery on December 17. This, in theory, is the plan – however, I have not yet received confirmation on anything other than chemo this Thursday – which was the “one more” my oncologist and I agreed to on Monday. I knew there might be more than one more, but I don’t have to like it. My one goal on Monday was to NOT have chemo on Monday – I just need a couple more days to feel better before facing any more. I’ve been glad for these last couple of days.

I’m actually of quite mixed emotions. This plan actually works for me – it lets me still get in a trip to Hawaii before the first surgery, and a trip to visit my parents before the second surgery. We ran through the schedules last night, and it even looks like my friends from Nova Scotia can still join us in Hawaii (yay). The extra chemo gets me that much closer to finishing the protocol (which calls for 12 sessions of taxol – in the end I’ll have 8 sessions). Part of me doesn’t want the extra two chemo sessions – I’d just like to stop chemo and go on with the surgery, but another part says – what if those extra two are the difference between beating this thing and not? Will those two extra sessions be extra insurance against re-occurrence? Metastasis? Of course, we don’t know. We have no way of knowing whether or not a couple more sessions of chemo will make any difference what so ever. But to align with the surgery schedules, it is best that I am in chemo right up until three weeks before surgery. And then I actually get four weeks between the first surgery and the second surgery. I’m happy for a little extra time to ensure that I’ve healed.

So the two year old in me is jumping up and down screaming about the need for more chemo, but the logical side of me is OK with the new plan but would like to see some form of confirmation on the new dates, so that the planner in me can make travel arrangements!

One Comment

  • The practical end of my treatments are under control but emotionally I’ve gotten to the point that I can’t speak to anyone in “the system” about worries I have. Being concerned about my treatment is apparently an affront to the “care” I’m being given so I’ve adopted a policy of being “mistaken” that allows me to get my message recorded and then contrition that tempers the lectures I’m going to get and keep me from being tossed from the clinic.

    I really don’t know what is happening to me, but getting upset is outside the limits of care and can’t or won’t be tolerated. My sense is that the logic of management prevails over the needs of the patient–no surprise to me.

    As a positive note I find the uncertainty kind of refreshing. Now that my “complaining” has gotten my dose reduced my worries aren’t so urgent, making me easier to care for. This is a strange journey.

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