The responses of love and support have been almost overwhelming.... thanks to you all.
I have so much to say, and don't know how to begin to even say it. Sister Leontine, my 5th Grade teacher at St. Teresa School, told me that I'd be a famous writer... so, I'll say that I will fulfull her promise that I will deliver some poignant prose before I die. I just gotta think on it before then.
Obviously, she was a great teacher.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Here We Go Again
A few weeks ago, I made the decision to go on a spur of the moment road trip with my good friend Kelly Love. I was still riding the wave of fun following my Kicking Metastatic Cancer's Ass Party, which was on September 10 and was a huge success. Since I've recently retired from my job, I had the time off and a wonderful and willing traveling companion. Why not? So, I pushed the appointment for my follow-up scans back a couple of weeks, packed up Daisy, and hit the road.
On the way UP the East Coast, I stopped at Kelly's house in Lynchburg, VA where I spent several days relaxing during crisp Virginia fall days in their 100 charming year old house. Next stop was Michele's house in Maryland, where we caught up 25 years in about 25 hours - she just started a yarn dyeing business and has a very active and witty redheaded 9yo son who sold me some drawings and a potholder. From the quiet MD suburbs, I then drove North to NYC and all it's glory. My friend Andrew just started grad school at NYU and we reconnected over flaming 151 creme brulees, piano lessons, and Dunkin Munchkins in a bustling park, before retiring to his Brooklyn apartment. Each stop seemed to make me miss the person I was seeing again even more. Next visit was Cathi in Long Island. We've known each other since PA School, and she is now a stay at home mom to 3 gorgeous kids and a McMansion, with the McMortgage paid by Jeff who obviously is doing very well. I know so many incredibly generous people who opened their homes to me, some at very short notice. Finally, I arrived in RI at Bruce's house, and Kelly took the train up and met me there. The 3 of us had a crazy night wandering around the Jaguar shop where he works, looking at cars worth more than my house, catching up, telling stories, reminiscing. Kelly and I had a wonderful day wandering around Newport the next day, exploring the Cliff Walks and finding the diviest bar on Thames Street. Went to my cousin Ellen's wedding, which was very fun and hopefully was not ruined by my display of boobies in the photo booth. Spent time with my family based out of Sharon's house, lunched on Federal Hill, and had a bunch of friends over the night before we left. The time went by so quickly and there were so many people I wanted to see more of- in fact, Xian even opened her mom's house to us near Atlantic City, NJ, and met us there, for a night that her mom declared "The Best Wednesday Ever". Toured a vineyard and ate some local seafood the next day, and continued the fun down to Baltimore where we had a cool night in the Inner Harbor. After a final stop in Lynchburg, I said adieu to Kelly and came home to a very lonely Lowell, who was very happy to see me. I'd missed him, too.
My scans were a few days ago, and my follow up appointment was today. The news was not good. I've been having some fatigue and pain in the area of the surgery, around my right clavicle. It turns out that there is another larger tumor there, about the size of a lemon. Additionally, there are multiple tumors in both of my lungs. All of these lesions are inoperable. Chemo is my only option at this point. Dr Sosman went over several options with us today, and my best bet seems to be an experimental drug which is in clinical trials now. As I have Stage 4 melanoma, the prognosis is poor, but this treatment may extend my life several months, or maybe even cure it. Without treatment, I am probably looking at less than a year to live. With treatment.... I'll just be optimistic and say "Who knows?". But realistically, I am getting my end of life decisions in order while still taking off the gloves for the fight of my life. I don't FEEL sick. I'm keeping my chin up and staying positive. I will find out later this week when the chemo will start, and I'll keep you updated as details unfurl.
Since I've been back, I've been working part time as an extra on the set of the ABC series "Nashville" which premieres tomorrow. It's fun and easy, and it's at least a little extra $, at least until my disability rolls in- Dr Sosman reassured me today that he will help make sure it is approved. Lowell has been supportive and strong as always, and my family and friends have also been reaching out to me with love and support. I'm still going to Gilda's Club for Group Therapy and love from fellow cancer fighters. Thanks to you all. I love you guys so much. I don't plan on leaving anytime soon!
(Big Thanks to actor Robert Wisdom, who let me keep his director's chair warm on set!)
On the way UP the East Coast, I stopped at Kelly's house in Lynchburg, VA where I spent several days relaxing during crisp Virginia fall days in their 100 charming year old house. Next stop was Michele's house in Maryland, where we caught up 25 years in about 25 hours - she just started a yarn dyeing business and has a very active and witty redheaded 9yo son who sold me some drawings and a potholder. From the quiet MD suburbs, I then drove North to NYC and all it's glory. My friend Andrew just started grad school at NYU and we reconnected over flaming 151 creme brulees, piano lessons, and Dunkin Munchkins in a bustling park, before retiring to his Brooklyn apartment. Each stop seemed to make me miss the person I was seeing again even more. Next visit was Cathi in Long Island. We've known each other since PA School, and she is now a stay at home mom to 3 gorgeous kids and a McMansion, with the McMortgage paid by Jeff who obviously is doing very well. I know so many incredibly generous people who opened their homes to me, some at very short notice. Finally, I arrived in RI at Bruce's house, and Kelly took the train up and met me there. The 3 of us had a crazy night wandering around the Jaguar shop where he works, looking at cars worth more than my house, catching up, telling stories, reminiscing. Kelly and I had a wonderful day wandering around Newport the next day, exploring the Cliff Walks and finding the diviest bar on Thames Street. Went to my cousin Ellen's wedding, which was very fun and hopefully was not ruined by my display of boobies in the photo booth. Spent time with my family based out of Sharon's house, lunched on Federal Hill, and had a bunch of friends over the night before we left. The time went by so quickly and there were so many people I wanted to see more of- in fact, Xian even opened her mom's house to us near Atlantic City, NJ, and met us there, for a night that her mom declared "The Best Wednesday Ever". Toured a vineyard and ate some local seafood the next day, and continued the fun down to Baltimore where we had a cool night in the Inner Harbor. After a final stop in Lynchburg, I said adieu to Kelly and came home to a very lonely Lowell, who was very happy to see me. I'd missed him, too.
My scans were a few days ago, and my follow up appointment was today. The news was not good. I've been having some fatigue and pain in the area of the surgery, around my right clavicle. It turns out that there is another larger tumor there, about the size of a lemon. Additionally, there are multiple tumors in both of my lungs. All of these lesions are inoperable. Chemo is my only option at this point. Dr Sosman went over several options with us today, and my best bet seems to be an experimental drug which is in clinical trials now. As I have Stage 4 melanoma, the prognosis is poor, but this treatment may extend my life several months, or maybe even cure it. Without treatment, I am probably looking at less than a year to live. With treatment.... I'll just be optimistic and say "Who knows?". But realistically, I am getting my end of life decisions in order while still taking off the gloves for the fight of my life. I don't FEEL sick. I'm keeping my chin up and staying positive. I will find out later this week when the chemo will start, and I'll keep you updated as details unfurl.
Since I've been back, I've been working part time as an extra on the set of the ABC series "Nashville" which premieres tomorrow. It's fun and easy, and it's at least a little extra $, at least until my disability rolls in- Dr Sosman reassured me today that he will help make sure it is approved. Lowell has been supportive and strong as always, and my family and friends have also been reaching out to me with love and support. I'm still going to Gilda's Club for Group Therapy and love from fellow cancer fighters. Thanks to you all. I love you guys so much. I don't plan on leaving anytime soon!
(Big Thanks to actor Robert Wisdom, who let me keep his director's chair warm on set!)
Monday, September 3, 2012
Post-Radiation Blues (or, Reds)
To catch you all up on my cancer treatment: The good news was- I did not have to have another round of chemo. The bad news? I had radiation instead. For those of you who have not experienced this type of therapy, (and I do hope you never will!), I'll give you a primer:
For one month, or 5 times a week for 4 weeks, I went to the hospital before my work day and laid down in a fancy xray machine for about 10-15 minutes, while a red beam of light aimed at my right shoulder and the machine grunted and squealed. No pain, but what made it difficult was the way they made sure I didn't budge while I was being zapped:
See the family resemblance? (And the 1/2 neck burn?)
For now, I have some other serious issues going on which I can't really go into detail here - but just keep me in your prayers... and it's a watch and wait situation with the cancer. I have a PET Scan on September 19, so see if the little spots in my lungs have blossomed, or, hopefully, vanished. I'm having a KICKING METASTATIC CANCER'S ASS Party on September 10, and if you're reading this, you are invited. I have 2 or 3 bands and a DJ playing. MY old friends, the band Starlings, TN, are coming in from Austin for the event. Yay! Work is going ok and my boss has been understanding. I'm going to cancer group therapy at Gilda's Club, and have met a group of amazingly strong women who I am proud to call my friends.
I'm dealing with this as best as I can, and I thank all of you for your love and support.
For one month, or 5 times a week for 4 weeks, I went to the hospital before my work day and laid down in a fancy xray machine for about 10-15 minutes, while a red beam of light aimed at my right shoulder and the machine grunted and squealed. No pain, but what made it difficult was the way they made sure I didn't budge while I was being zapped:
No, I am not fencing... I am being restrained down by a plastic mesh mold that is bolted to the xray table, BEFORE I am rolled into the tunnel. Did I mention that I am claustrophobic? (Ever since my brother trapped me in a toybox/coffin at my cousins' house when I was about 8, for what seemed like a 1/2 a day, but was more likely 5 minutes). The squared-off area is where the radiation beams were fired, and even though it's been done for over a week, I have a second degree burn to the area, front and back. But hey, if if prevents the cancer from growing back, then it was worth it. Best of all, after the last treatment, the friendly RT that I'd bonded with, Lacey, let me keep the mold. And of course I had to take her on a little adventure... I seatbelted her into Daisy, we had coffee at Fido, and then we rode the HOV lane together to work. I plan to make a topiary out of her one day soon- she'll cheer up the garden in my backyard.
See the family resemblance? (And the 1/2 neck burn?)
For now, I have some other serious issues going on which I can't really go into detail here - but just keep me in your prayers... and it's a watch and wait situation with the cancer. I have a PET Scan on September 19, so see if the little spots in my lungs have blossomed, or, hopefully, vanished. I'm having a KICKING METASTATIC CANCER'S ASS Party on September 10, and if you're reading this, you are invited. I have 2 or 3 bands and a DJ playing. MY old friends, the band Starlings, TN, are coming in from Austin for the event. Yay! Work is going ok and my boss has been understanding. I'm going to cancer group therapy at Gilda's Club, and have met a group of amazingly strong women who I am proud to call my friends.
I'm dealing with this as best as I can, and I thank all of you for your love and support.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
I've been avoiding the harsh reality of my medical condition for several weeks now, and it was brought to my attention yesterday afternoon as I was eating my lunch and perusing a local medical newspaper. An article about melanoma mentioned a new drug (one that I unfortunately do not have the genetic makeup to benefit from) - and how it was increasing the life span of patients with metastatic melanoma. According to this article, the current prognosis of patients with metastatic melanoma is between 6-10 months.
6 to 10 months.
I have not slept a wink all night.
If this is correct, and yes, it seems to be true... what do I do?
I am healing up ok, back to work for a week now, still in pain and have a post-op infection, but every day is a little better. I see my oncologist in 4 days, and these are certainly questions for him... but he is not really good at giving me a straight answer.
If I truly have less than a year to live, do I continue working? Or do I cash in my 401K, file for disability, and travel the world while I still can? Is this really happening to me? I feel like I should be writing my life story right about now. What am I leaving behind, besides some stories of a few cool parties and some sad friend and family members? I've got no kids, minimal savings, no major accomplishments, no Wikipedia page, and all kinds of loose ends. I don't have a will, and don't even really have any shit to PUT in a will! I have enough life insurance to not burden anyone with my funeral, but... my life is going to be more significant than this, right?
RIGHT?
My good news of this weekend is that Friday morning, there was a person sleeping on my patio when I woke up to go to work. It was my brother, who I had not seen in almost 3 years. From 1500 miles away, he came out of the woodwork to make peace with me. At least if I go soon, it will be without the pain of never seeing my brother again. It's Father's Day today, and I can feel Dad smiling down from Heaven and happy about this. As a family, we have some more forgiving to do with each other, but maybe if I do go this year, I will at least have helped to bring the Colbys back together. We're a crazy bunch, but we're good people.
So, Gentle Readers, I ask you... if given a year to live (even if I am wrong, and I do hope I am)... what would YOU do? I need advice.
6 to 10 months.
I have not slept a wink all night.
If this is correct, and yes, it seems to be true... what do I do?
I am healing up ok, back to work for a week now, still in pain and have a post-op infection, but every day is a little better. I see my oncologist in 4 days, and these are certainly questions for him... but he is not really good at giving me a straight answer.
If I truly have less than a year to live, do I continue working? Or do I cash in my 401K, file for disability, and travel the world while I still can? Is this really happening to me? I feel like I should be writing my life story right about now. What am I leaving behind, besides some stories of a few cool parties and some sad friend and family members? I've got no kids, minimal savings, no major accomplishments, no Wikipedia page, and all kinds of loose ends. I don't have a will, and don't even really have any shit to PUT in a will! I have enough life insurance to not burden anyone with my funeral, but... my life is going to be more significant than this, right?
RIGHT?
My good news of this weekend is that Friday morning, there was a person sleeping on my patio when I woke up to go to work. It was my brother, who I had not seen in almost 3 years. From 1500 miles away, he came out of the woodwork to make peace with me. At least if I go soon, it will be without the pain of never seeing my brother again. It's Father's Day today, and I can feel Dad smiling down from Heaven and happy about this. As a family, we have some more forgiving to do with each other, but maybe if I do go this year, I will at least have helped to bring the Colbys back together. We're a crazy bunch, but we're good people.
So, Gentle Readers, I ask you... if given a year to live (even if I am wrong, and I do hope I am)... what would YOU do? I need advice.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Post-Op
My surgery was two days ago, and although I am feeling a bit better than when I arrived home, I still am incredibly achy all over. I must have bitten my tongue while intubated, because the tip is numb. I really hope that this is a temporary nuisance - though it would definitely cause some weight loss in the long run because eating anything except popsicles is almost impossible!
The incision is not nearly as ugly as I expected. It is at the base of my neck, from the area below the chin to just behind my right ear. Should heal up nicely, and I have some time to come up with a bitchin' story about a knife fight or a shark attack. I do, however, have this crazy looking drain stuck into my shoulder that dangles 2 or 3 feet down and has attached to it what appears to be a hand grenade full of scary, dark brown liquid. I have to empty it twice a day, and it's leaky. I'm going through about 5 T-shirt changes a day. Since this will be in until I see the surgeon again in 10 days, I am wondering how I am going to hide this at work. As much as Lo loves me, he draws the line at messing with it. I don't blame him! I guess I'll just bring lots of extra sets of dark colored scrubs, and hope for the best. I have 5 more days off, anyways. I just can't afford to take off more time.
My friends and family have been amazingly supportive, for the most part. You definitely find out who your real friends are in situations like this. My mom arrives in a few days, and I can't wait to see her. Some other people just don't know how to react to bad news, I guess. The ones who owe me money are the most ... disturbing. I have never needed it more, and I shouldn't have to ask for it more than twice. But I'm staying positive and focusing on the good in people. And holy crap, do I know a lot of good people.
My dreams are crazy, and are probably being fueled by pain meds and lots of sleep. Last night I dreamt that my car hit a ramp and I ended up on the top of a water tower - and then it toppled over the edge. Lo and I just stood there, looking down at my car, flat as a pancake. The rental place would not give me a car, because I had been in one too many wrecks. Gary showed up in a Roseanne Barr costume and let me borrow the car he had just rented. I know! WTH? Don't you love how dreams make perfect sense while they are going on?
Well, I'm off to read the People Magazine that lovely Brenda brought me last night, change my shirt, and have another popsicle. Not much more to Blob about today, but I will continue to keep you posted. I am again so grateful for the wonderful people in my life. I am staying strong for you. :)
The incision is not nearly as ugly as I expected. It is at the base of my neck, from the area below the chin to just behind my right ear. Should heal up nicely, and I have some time to come up with a bitchin' story about a knife fight or a shark attack. I do, however, have this crazy looking drain stuck into my shoulder that dangles 2 or 3 feet down and has attached to it what appears to be a hand grenade full of scary, dark brown liquid. I have to empty it twice a day, and it's leaky. I'm going through about 5 T-shirt changes a day. Since this will be in until I see the surgeon again in 10 days, I am wondering how I am going to hide this at work. As much as Lo loves me, he draws the line at messing with it. I don't blame him! I guess I'll just bring lots of extra sets of dark colored scrubs, and hope for the best. I have 5 more days off, anyways. I just can't afford to take off more time.
My friends and family have been amazingly supportive, for the most part. You definitely find out who your real friends are in situations like this. My mom arrives in a few days, and I can't wait to see her. Some other people just don't know how to react to bad news, I guess. The ones who owe me money are the most ... disturbing. I have never needed it more, and I shouldn't have to ask for it more than twice. But I'm staying positive and focusing on the good in people. And holy crap, do I know a lot of good people.
My dreams are crazy, and are probably being fueled by pain meds and lots of sleep. Last night I dreamt that my car hit a ramp and I ended up on the top of a water tower - and then it toppled over the edge. Lo and I just stood there, looking down at my car, flat as a pancake. The rental place would not give me a car, because I had been in one too many wrecks. Gary showed up in a Roseanne Barr costume and let me borrow the car he had just rented. I know! WTH? Don't you love how dreams make perfect sense while they are going on?
Well, I'm off to read the People Magazine that lovely Brenda brought me last night, change my shirt, and have another popsicle. Not much more to Blob about today, but I will continue to keep you posted. I am again so grateful for the wonderful people in my life. I am staying strong for you. :)
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Update
So I got good and bad news today.
My PET scan showed the angry lymph node, of course. It also showed two suspicious spots in one of my lungs. These things are too small to "do anything about" right now, so we are just gonna have to watch them and wait. The good news is that I am otherwise cancer-free.
I am also in for a much larger surgery than I suspected. Not only is the lump getting 86'd, but pretty much ALL of the lymph nodes in the right half of my neck are being shown the door. I'll have a pretty big scar on the side of my neck, but nothing that a bitchin' neck tat won't take care of. I saw a chick at the DMV last year who had "SEXY HO" and a rose tatted on her neck. She is my inspiration. (Oh, if only my mom read my Blob. My phone would be blowing up right now). :)
So, that means about 10 days out of work, according to Dr Hooks, the oncological surgeon. I figure I'll take half that. I'm tough, and I can't afford to be out that long. I'll have a surgical drain poking out, but I can wear a turtleneck in June. Or a dickie. Or an ascot.
(I am actually pretty scared but trying to stay upbeat. Dr S said to take as much time as I need. Thanks for all your prayers... and let's focus on the good news that I am not totally cancer-addled, and taking this lump out is not merely polishing the brass on the Titanic).
Thanks for listening, and I promise to update you all here more often.
Love,
KC
My PET scan showed the angry lymph node, of course. It also showed two suspicious spots in one of my lungs. These things are too small to "do anything about" right now, so we are just gonna have to watch them and wait. The good news is that I am otherwise cancer-free.
I am also in for a much larger surgery than I suspected. Not only is the lump getting 86'd, but pretty much ALL of the lymph nodes in the right half of my neck are being shown the door. I'll have a pretty big scar on the side of my neck, but nothing that a bitchin' neck tat won't take care of. I saw a chick at the DMV last year who had "SEXY HO" and a rose tatted on her neck. She is my inspiration. (Oh, if only my mom read my Blob. My phone would be blowing up right now). :)
So, that means about 10 days out of work, according to Dr Hooks, the oncological surgeon. I figure I'll take half that. I'm tough, and I can't afford to be out that long. I'll have a surgical drain poking out, but I can wear a turtleneck in June. Or a dickie. Or an ascot.
(I am actually pretty scared but trying to stay upbeat. Dr S said to take as much time as I need. Thanks for all your prayers... and let's focus on the good news that I am not totally cancer-addled, and taking this lump out is not merely polishing the brass on the Titanic).
Thanks for listening, and I promise to update you all here more often.
Love,
KC
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
I Don't Even Know Where To Begin....
Quite a lot has happened since my last post. I probably need to update this thing more, because sometimes I am afraid that it will be the only evidence remaining of my life here on Earth. And if that's the case, I need to make this good.
I started a new job on April 30. I had been toying with the idea of leaving the walk-in clinic for many months, and finally took Dr S up on the offer he had made me around the holidays. I'm working less hours for more money, and in a much more relaxed environment. I'd missed the more personal aspects of Family Practice; of getting to know my patients a little better. Even the needy, drug-seeking ones. So, this aspect of my life is better, and it could not have come at a better time. When I say this place is laid back, I mean that the office manager is a stripper on the weekends, and the company xmas party is usually held at her strip club. Dr S, who makes an appearance about once every 3 weeks, is a smiley 35-ish African-American dude who looks like Chef from South Park. I am pretty sure that there is something going on between Dr S and S, the office manager, but I keep my mouth shut. Anyway, I fit right in from Day One.
Driving home from work on my second day, I was rubbing this sore, numb-ish spot below my right collarbone that had been tapping me on the shoulder for the past 2 weeks. The night before, I'd inspected my shoulder for shingles. I've never had shingles, but the burning sensation felt like my patients had always described. I am an excellent self-diagnostician. Coupled with my talents for procrastination and hyperchondriasis (in my dictionary, the opposite of hypochondriasis), it makes me my own Patient From Hell. Anyway, as my fingers explored this weird numb area, I happened upon something that made a bolt of sweat flash across my scalp- there was a lump. A lump the size of a ping pong ball that definitely was not there the day before.
With the help of friends, and friends-of-friends, in various medical offices, I had my real diagnosis in 48 hours- both the CT and the US were consistent with metastatic melanoma. A fine needle biopsy was needed to confirm it, and this was done in my oncologist's office a few days later. It had been almost exactly a year since I'd finished the high-dose Interferon/chemo for the tumor on my right arm, and my subsequent "I Kicked Cancer's Ass" Party, attended by over 200 of my amazing friends. This was not supposed to be happening. I am only 46. I have too much shit to do.
Dr Sosman, my oncologist, cannot give me a prognosis until after my PET scan and surgery results. The PET was done last week and the results are still pending. This is frustrating. Vanderbilt Medical Center is horrible about calling patients with test results. I'm seeing the surgeon tomorrow, so I will know more then. My brain MRI WAS clear. I'm told that melanoma finds brain tissue delicious, or something like that. My brain says Fuck That Shit, or something like that. I need to rally the rest of my entire body to say the same thing.
And now I am laying in bed every night, vibrantly awake and creating Worst Care Scenarios with my cancer-free brain. As happy as I am to have lost 40 lbs since 2010, I gotta admit that I wasn't really trying. That ain't good, from an oncology perspective. Little aches and pains are becoming metastases. I am surrounded by hypochondriacs and refuse to sound like one, so I keep it all in. That ain't good, either. I do have to give my friends and family credit for being 100% supportive and wonderful. Lowell refuses to let me see him worry. I know he does, though. The stress has led to some fights but we always work them out. I know he did not sign up for this, and that he is free to leave anytime, and yet he does not. A few weeks ago, I took out a large life insurance policy on myself and left the proceeds to him. I hope it never comes to that, but if I go, he will at least get to keep our house if he wants to.
At night, I also devise lists of my Final Wishes. I should probably make them known. I know that this Blob is not a legally binding document, but since no one seems to want to have this conversation with me, here's what I want. Spoiler Alert: It's kind of fucked up - but so am I. :)
I want to be cremated. And I would like my ashes to be split up and dispersed in a few places that are very special to me. A handful sprinkled on top of Love Circle in Nashville, some off the Newport Cliffwalk in RI, some on my dad and my Nana's graves. If someone could send some to Merle in Hawaii, I'd love her to shake some on Waikiki Beach. Kelly Love is in charge of the St. George Island sprinkling. Steve Greaves gets to throw some near the Sydney Opera house, if he is allowed. Some need to be with my mom, and with Lowell. Anyone else want a piece of me? I think that there will probably be enough to go around. Pick me out a cool place. New Orleans, Pawtucket and England are also on my Ash Bucket List. Anyone too grossed out by this whole debaucle to participate? No problem. Am I crazy? Abso-fucking-lutely. And please have a party. You know I would for you. I'll be there.
I hope to be re-reading this Blob when I'm 80 and thinking about what a morbid headcase I was for even posting this. I am prepared to fight and fight and fight so that this happens. But just in case... I feel much better letting my 5 readers know what to do if the melanoma wins. I hope to get some good news tomorrow, and get the surgery over with soon. The lump is now egg-sized and painful, but it will be gone soon.
But I'll be here.
I started a new job on April 30. I had been toying with the idea of leaving the walk-in clinic for many months, and finally took Dr S up on the offer he had made me around the holidays. I'm working less hours for more money, and in a much more relaxed environment. I'd missed the more personal aspects of Family Practice; of getting to know my patients a little better. Even the needy, drug-seeking ones. So, this aspect of my life is better, and it could not have come at a better time. When I say this place is laid back, I mean that the office manager is a stripper on the weekends, and the company xmas party is usually held at her strip club. Dr S, who makes an appearance about once every 3 weeks, is a smiley 35-ish African-American dude who looks like Chef from South Park. I am pretty sure that there is something going on between Dr S and S, the office manager, but I keep my mouth shut. Anyway, I fit right in from Day One.
Driving home from work on my second day, I was rubbing this sore, numb-ish spot below my right collarbone that had been tapping me on the shoulder for the past 2 weeks. The night before, I'd inspected my shoulder for shingles. I've never had shingles, but the burning sensation felt like my patients had always described. I am an excellent self-diagnostician. Coupled with my talents for procrastination and hyperchondriasis (in my dictionary, the opposite of hypochondriasis), it makes me my own Patient From Hell. Anyway, as my fingers explored this weird numb area, I happened upon something that made a bolt of sweat flash across my scalp- there was a lump. A lump the size of a ping pong ball that definitely was not there the day before.
With the help of friends, and friends-of-friends, in various medical offices, I had my real diagnosis in 48 hours- both the CT and the US were consistent with metastatic melanoma. A fine needle biopsy was needed to confirm it, and this was done in my oncologist's office a few days later. It had been almost exactly a year since I'd finished the high-dose Interferon/chemo for the tumor on my right arm, and my subsequent "I Kicked Cancer's Ass" Party, attended by over 200 of my amazing friends. This was not supposed to be happening. I am only 46. I have too much shit to do.
Dr Sosman, my oncologist, cannot give me a prognosis until after my PET scan and surgery results. The PET was done last week and the results are still pending. This is frustrating. Vanderbilt Medical Center is horrible about calling patients with test results. I'm seeing the surgeon tomorrow, so I will know more then. My brain MRI WAS clear. I'm told that melanoma finds brain tissue delicious, or something like that. My brain says Fuck That Shit, or something like that. I need to rally the rest of my entire body to say the same thing.
And now I am laying in bed every night, vibrantly awake and creating Worst Care Scenarios with my cancer-free brain. As happy as I am to have lost 40 lbs since 2010, I gotta admit that I wasn't really trying. That ain't good, from an oncology perspective. Little aches and pains are becoming metastases. I am surrounded by hypochondriacs and refuse to sound like one, so I keep it all in. That ain't good, either. I do have to give my friends and family credit for being 100% supportive and wonderful. Lowell refuses to let me see him worry. I know he does, though. The stress has led to some fights but we always work them out. I know he did not sign up for this, and that he is free to leave anytime, and yet he does not. A few weeks ago, I took out a large life insurance policy on myself and left the proceeds to him. I hope it never comes to that, but if I go, he will at least get to keep our house if he wants to.
At night, I also devise lists of my Final Wishes. I should probably make them known. I know that this Blob is not a legally binding document, but since no one seems to want to have this conversation with me, here's what I want. Spoiler Alert: It's kind of fucked up - but so am I. :)
I want to be cremated. And I would like my ashes to be split up and dispersed in a few places that are very special to me. A handful sprinkled on top of Love Circle in Nashville, some off the Newport Cliffwalk in RI, some on my dad and my Nana's graves. If someone could send some to Merle in Hawaii, I'd love her to shake some on Waikiki Beach. Kelly Love is in charge of the St. George Island sprinkling. Steve Greaves gets to throw some near the Sydney Opera house, if he is allowed. Some need to be with my mom, and with Lowell. Anyone else want a piece of me? I think that there will probably be enough to go around. Pick me out a cool place. New Orleans, Pawtucket and England are also on my Ash Bucket List. Anyone too grossed out by this whole debaucle to participate? No problem. Am I crazy? Abso-fucking-lutely. And please have a party. You know I would for you. I'll be there.
I hope to be re-reading this Blob when I'm 80 and thinking about what a morbid headcase I was for even posting this. I am prepared to fight and fight and fight so that this happens. But just in case... I feel much better letting my 5 readers know what to do if the melanoma wins. I hope to get some good news tomorrow, and get the surgery over with soon. The lump is now egg-sized and painful, but it will be gone soon.
But I'll be here.
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