The advice no one wants

What not to say--Dan has treated ca patients for nearly 30 yrs so I know the theories and stories. And no, it doesn't just go away despite the claims. It can be misdiagnosed and people can not really have cancer (overread pathology report) and it looks like a miracle but I digress:
1) Do not say "god has got this." Very fine ppl of faith have died of cancer. Children. Babies.
2) Do not tell me about how your aunt bee beat it twice. Not reassuring. She got it twice btw.
3) Do not tell me about a regime where I have to stand on my head and eat a whole list of stuff. Or aromatherapy. I've heard it. I'm already tired. As my friend Debra Poole said "so much for eating expensive organic meat for years."
4) Do not say researchers have made great strides in this. Guess what? I don't like being sick at all and being sick, surgery and radiation for almost a year are not my cup(s?) of tea. 

Going to get a Jean Seberg haircut tomorrow before it falls out. Yes it will fall out. (yes I know some doesn't.) 

I have a grade 3, stage 3 cancer that doesn't respond well to hair loss preventives and my drugs will make mine fall out. They are going to hit it hard because I'm so healthy--healthier than some 20 year olds my doc said. Lucky me.” 

You always remember your first time.

The First Chemo and the after effects

The Chemo didn’t start until Thursday, February 23 because my insurance company was slow to approve it. One day delay but Dan got on the phone and called the insurance company three times. I am one of the lucky ones. I have an advocate for me in every crisis. I feel so bad for cancer fighters who don’t have a voice or insurance or family. My daughter, St. Elizabeth, as I now call her, and grandson Henry had come back into town and drove me the hospital early on Thursday morning.  My husband met up with me and we headed to the chemo room where they inserted a bag of fluid into my still bruised port area. The nurse also put a neulasta patch on my arm—it’s a shot that automatically administers a drug 24 hours later to boost my white blood count. Such a fascinating bit of technology. Maybe we'll have Dan Blog about it later. 

None of this really hurt, but I was running on adrenaline so how did I know?  The first few minutes I think they pumped me full of fluid and steroids and anti-nausea drugs. Then the nurse hooked me up to a drip bag of the drug Cytoxan and when that bag was empty, I was given a bag of Adriamycin, aka known as the red devil because it’s so potent and mean.  After two hours, I was done. I felt fine and texted my daughter--we went out to lunch at Aubrey’s and some kind stranger comped my lunch.   The support from the community continues to astound me.