I can not say enough about the staff here. They are flat out good. I have NEVER felt rushed, or not paid attention to, or made to feel like I was a pain or slowing them down, or any of that. We landed in the right place. In fact, they decided today I needed one additional test, and it could not scheduled until 12/23, no way, no how. That is until my scheduler (I call her the Queen) Trechena Leonard spent the better part of her morning working her magic and calling in whatever favors, and managed to move mountains to get me in tomorrow morning. Then, she couldn't reach me by phone to deliver the update so she literally and physically tracked me way across campus to the radiation oncology department to tell me that I had the appointment. I told her I loved her and Joe is sending her flowers. This is the kind of people to whom we've entrusted our care.
Now, the "One day break" part. I am taking a break from the positive and semi-irreverent tone I intend to maintain during the course of this. As you all might know, it was staging day. I was hoping to be a Stage 1 or 2, but unfortunately, I'm a 3. A T3N+ to be specific. That means that The Little Bastard has escaped the confines of my bowel wall and is out into my abdomen. I also have 3 lymph nodes affected. But I do NOT have evidence of liver or lung involvement, so that is really good news. I asked the surgeon today how long this might have been cooking. Without hesitation, he answered, "Years." Years, people. Years of no symptoms. Years of hanging around as a Stage 1, then a Stage 2. Years.
So, for my break, I will mope a bit and store up for the temper tantrum that will put the fear of God into The Little Bastard. Then with cool nonchalance, I'll go right back to attacking him with all I've got. There's a lot on my side, and to tell the truth, I think the docs are excited about the prospects. I'm relatively young, healthy, have no symptoms, no complications, no previous treatment. A clean slate, about as ready for this fight as you can be. And have no doubt, this will be a fight. Tomorrow.
Until then, you all are wonderful. You would not believe what you've done for me and Joe. I click on here and FB and see your supportive prayers, thoughts and comments and feel it in my being. Forgive me for not responding to each and every one of you as you deserve, but know that you're making a measurable difference.
Tomorrow brings Inigo Montoya. I promise.
Now, the "One day break" part. I am taking a break from the positive and semi-irreverent tone I intend to maintain during the course of this. As you all might know, it was staging day. I was hoping to be a Stage 1 or 2, but unfortunately, I'm a 3. A T3N+ to be specific. That means that The Little Bastard has escaped the confines of my bowel wall and is out into my abdomen. I also have 3 lymph nodes affected. But I do NOT have evidence of liver or lung involvement, so that is really good news. I asked the surgeon today how long this might have been cooking. Without hesitation, he answered, "Years." Years, people. Years of no symptoms. Years of hanging around as a Stage 1, then a Stage 2. Years.
So, for my break, I will mope a bit and store up for the temper tantrum that will put the fear of God into The Little Bastard. Then with cool nonchalance, I'll go right back to attacking him with all I've got. There's a lot on my side, and to tell the truth, I think the docs are excited about the prospects. I'm relatively young, healthy, have no symptoms, no complications, no previous treatment. A clean slate, about as ready for this fight as you can be. And have no doubt, this will be a fight. Tomorrow.
Until then, you all are wonderful. You would not believe what you've done for me and Joe. I click on here and FB and see your supportive prayers, thoughts and comments and feel it in my being. Forgive me for not responding to each and every one of you as you deserve, but know that you're making a measurable difference.
Tomorrow brings Inigo Montoya. I promise.
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