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First off, I was praying last night (as the thick snow came down down down) that the cancer center would even be open today so I could get my 20th and final dose in already. Thankfully, when I called the office this morning, the recording informed me that they would open at 9 am.
Since we were all pretty much snowed in (until it was time to drive to the hospital), the day was spent cleaning, eating and relaxing. We have wonderful neighbors (one who is generous with his snow thrower!) and between them and Dan were easily shoveled out by 3.
We met with Dr. H before treatment (hard to believe Dan hadn't met him until today), where he reminded me of the game plan after today: CT scan in a month (at Penna Hosp), PET scan 2 months after. He doesn't have a problem with me leaving my port in for another 3 months (until after the PET, as I'm concerned about getting my veins accessed between now and then), although I'm not completely sold on the idea. I will see Dr. Henry in 2 weeks to discuss this plan with him (and get my port flushed again), and make my CT scan arrangements. What we are hoping to see then is that the citrus fruit currently stationed in my chest is the same size or smaller. We won't be able to tell how successful the radiation was until the end of March, as the PET will show any remaining activity.
As we finished up with Dr. H, I thought I would wait for a few minutes, get my final dose and be on my merry way. Aha ha ha. Almost an hour later, I was finally called back. They had even turned off the coffee drink machine (Dan's favorite part of the facility). By the time I was done, the valet had given our keys to the valet around the corner, at a different entrance to the hospital. Ugh. Are ya kiddin me?
Unfortunately, I didn't leave feeling happy or relieved, but more perturbed and irritated. Come to think off it, that's pretty much how I left there most days, ticked off that I had to do it at all.
Dan asked me if I felt a certain sense of accomplishment at what I had endured and survived over the past 7 months (he knew better than to ask if I felt any kind of cautious optimism). Relief that my schedule does not revolve around treatment anymore? My reply: Not so much. While it's lovely that I don't have to be surrounded by other in-treatment patients, wear old blue gowns or lay on the table to listen to depressing music (today's last tune: what becomes of the broken hearted?????) while being zapped every day, my mind is onto the next big worry. The worry comes regardless of locale. I can make my own meaning of any song on the radio.
And I'm sure I will write plenty about those big and bigger worries in the coming weeks; tonight I am going to enjoy my [spiked] soy hot cocoa, the smell of a clean house, and fixate my immediate hopes on the completion of the kitchen before the new year.
SAVE THE DATE: Thursday, December 30, 2010 is the 3rd and last Triannual Team Mama Mia Appreciation Day. Mark your calendars and remember to check back into the blog for further details.