I was sitting in Room 6 at the Cancer Center this morning when Kim walked in and said, “What’s wrong? And don’t give me that ‘Nothing, I’m fine’ business.’”
And before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “I don’t want to die,” squeezed her outstretched hand, and started to cry.
This surprised me, as not five minutes before, I had been bravely telling Doc G that I had come to accept the fact that I would some day succumb to this disease. I wanted to finally know, I persuaded, how much longer this battle would go on.
He told me he didn’t have a crystal ball and new-fangled therapies are around the corner and new, promising trials taking place right now, at the Cancer Center. But if there were no ground to gain by these new treatments, no miracles: a year, maybe two.
I suspected as much and I was OK with hearing this because there ARE new and promising treatments around the corner and I DO believe in miracles.
You might be wondering how this all came up today since my last CT scan was clear. Well, my CA-125 tumor marker is up ten points. But this could simply be an anomaly. This is my fourth time being treated for this disease in just over three years and one thing has been true for every occurrence: I’ve felt the pain before the onset. And currently I have no pain.
None of this is in my hands and I can’t keep track of the ups and downs. Let me just say that one-to-two years is a lot longer than many other cancer patients are given, many other much-younger cancer patients at that.
I’m off to pick up little J now, and for all he knows, and for all any of us know for that matter, mama’s gonna be around for a long time.
Here’s my mantra for the day. Enjoy:
Hugs,
Jennifer



