Here is some great news.
My C125 count is down to 248. To put that in perspective, when I was hauled into the hospital back in January it was over 9000.
Chemotherapy is working-I could have told them that just based on the side effects, frankly.
I went to see a doctor, still don’t have just one doctor, they share me, and she looked at my chart, rather puzzled, and said ‘Do you want to know your numbers?’ I was with my Mom, who wanted to know the numbers. I could tell. So for the first time I said yes. Hit me with some digits.
Pretty good number. I didn’t want to know my numbers because this isn’t about numbers for me. IT’s a day to day, get through it, don’t play games, age is not a number and neither is cancer reality for me. I will not care about those kinds of numbers until they are zero for 5 years.
That’s my kind of number. Don’t get me down, telling me they are UP this week or DOWN this week or steadily going UP or steadily going DOWN or whatever. That’s depressing and debilitating. If they are good enough for my doctor and she is satisfied with my course of treatment and am contributing and participating through eating well and getting exercise and staying positive then I am happy.
My number is ONE. Just one more day. I’ll take it. One more day to throw a ball really hard. One more day to sit in a cafe and drink espresso and write. One more day to walk up that steep hill to Vito’s and sit and listen to that cool quartet and drink martini’s at happy hour. One more day punching the clock at 5 am and getting the shop open and being ready and happy to see my customers lining up. One more day of irritation and laundry, trying to pay rent and bills, borrowing money I can’t pay back. Yet. But guess what? I’ll take it. Even one more crappy day. And I’ll look forward to the good days. The days of camping and cookouts and dinner parties and dancing at the casino…
One more Friday with Michele and the Girls drinking and talking. One more week of vacation to ride the train to San Francisco. One more birthday cake. One more Christmas. One more Spring. One more Summer. And I’ll wish for that for the rest of my life. Just one more of EVERYTHING. It’s not much.
I know it’s not much because I have things I want that I can’t have ever. I can face that too.
I want my kittens back. And that’s not going to happen. So you take something like that and you make it the lowest low. It was for me. That was awful it’s the worst thing that’s happened this year. Not getting cancer. Seeing your kitten get run over. Having the other disappear. Within weeks. That’s the worst because you can’t DO anything about it.
Cancer? That I can do something about. I can fight and scream and kick. I can cry and be brave and fake it and pretend I am stronger than I am. That the side effects aren’t that bad. I can do this…but I can’t stop missing my kittens. I can’t stop seeing Maru in my arms. It hasn’t been that long I guess. I am allowed to grieve. And I still have Mr Jones and Ryka. I can keep them safe. I can still pet them and love them.
Yes. Things are good. My numbers are good. I can still be sad and cry but the tears end. This will end.
This will be one more good day.