Cody and I got so comfortable this last month living a “reality” as new parents and not as people fighting a horrible disease. We were able to get back to being “us” and remembering how great things were before this nightmare started. We were living the reality that every newly married couple with a brand new baby should be living. Except, unforunately, that’s not really reality for us. We have done a great job the last couple weeks kind of putting cancer on the back burner and not letting it control our lives like it has over the past 5 months. It wasn’t brought up in every conversation, we didn’t let those thoughts creep in; we just focused on our beautiful miracle. And it was the best month I’ve had in a long, long time. And then today happened.
I have been incredibly anxious all week. We had an appointment with my oncologist at 11:45 this morning. We arrived at the cancer center at around 11:30 and didn’t actually see my doctor until 12:45…an hour after our scheduled appointment, which made my anxiety about the situation that much worse. When I first got diagnosed I had told my doctor that I didn’t want to know the results of the scans as long as they didn’t change my treatment plan. I didn’t need to sit around thinking about every ache and pain possibly being because of this disease. I went into today’s appointment with the same mindset: I just wanted to know what I needed to do moving forward.
My doctor had other things in mind. He didn’t feel as though we collectively could make a decision about what was best unless we knew the results from the PET scan that I had last week. Reluctantly, we agreed. He went on to tell us that the resuts were not good. The scan showed active disease in the lungs, the lymph nodes, areas in the stomach and even in some bones. If you’re wondering like I did how it was possible that I just had a clear chest scan a few weeks ago and now it’s not I’ll fill you in. The scan I had before my last round of chemo was a CT scan which I guess would just show tumors and growths. This PET scan shows things more in depth, so there was active disease shown there. Which I guess means that there are cancerous cells shown in that area. He then went on to say that he doesn’t believe we’ll be able to find a cure and that he’s not sure that the 6 drug chemo regimen is worth the brutality it would put my body through, but he encouraged us to get a second opinion. What I heard? Basically a death sentence and that he had given up hope.
Just a reminder: Cody and I still have yet to be married for an entire year. We’ve been through things as a couple and dealt with things in the past five months that people shouldn’t have to deal with in a lifetime. Our relationship has been tested in more ways than that of a couple who has been married for 50 years. One thing I know: nothing will break us apart after this and there is absolutley no way I could get through any of this without him by my side.
So, here we are, 5 months into fighting this battle and we’re going through all the same feelings we felt months ago when we first got hit with the horrible diagnosis. We’ve tried so hard to be positive throughout this all and now we sit at home and can’t remember how we ever got past those dreadful feelings the first few days. The hardest part is still not having a plan moving forward. We’re going to meet with a few doctors in Chicago, but we don’t know what to expect or what to do with all of this energy coursing through our bodies.
It’s so incredibly hard to look at the big picture when we don’t know what the big picture looks like. I want and I’ve tried to put all of my trust in God and give up what small amount of control I feel I may have over this situation, but when is enough enough? I don’t remember how to keep those thoughts from flooding my mind. As I sit here I can’t help but think horrible things like what if I’m not around to watch this little baby grow up and live his life, or what if he grows up and doesn’t remember me or has no idea who I am, or what if Cody moves on and Bentley decides he wants to call someone else Mom. These thoughts absolutely crush me and tear my heart into a million pieces, yet I don’t know how to keep them from entering my mind. This may sound like me throwing in the towel. It’s not. These are just thoughts that creep in when we keep getting such disheartening news.
Now we’re basically left with the decision on starting a way more intense dose of chemo which is usually done over 3 days in the hospital, or choosing essentially to do nothing but live my life and let the disease run it’s course. I don’t know what our answer to that question is yet, but I will tell you one thing. I will NEVER, ever give up. I have way too much too fight for and way too many things to do yet in my life. I’m going to keep trusting that somehow God’s plan is bigger than all of this and keep praying for one small victory at a time. I want so, so badly for the day that I get on here to do an update that says I’m in remission. So let’s make that happen: keep praying harder than ever that I can beat this disease. For me, for Cody, for Bentley, for our entire families.