This time around is...different

Patience, child, that little voice inside my head tells me. It's only been six days since your first session of chemo this time around. You're supposed to be lightheaded, tired, a little frustrated. But I don't remember this from the two times before. Even just by day seven I was getting out of bed and eagerly showering and dressing, getting out a little bit. Doing things. But, this time around is...different. You must rest when your body says rest, the voice resonates, no matter what day of the cycle it is. Perhaps it's being almost 61, instead of in my fifties or forties. I don't know the rhyme or reason. I just know I don't like how I'm feeling. I feel like an almost-61 year-old petulent child who wants the red lollipop in my outstretched hand. I want to feel normal, as if there was something as crazy as normal during chemotherapy. I guess normal is just whatever you get. Don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly grateful that this therapy exists, that there's a magic elixer to prolong my life. You've got some strong drugs coursing through your body, my husband Paul reminds me. I'm also incredibly grateful for all you dear readers out there, supporting me along this journey. I'll settle in and let myself be what it needs to be. I just had to get a little whining out of the way first.

Just when you least expect it, another cancer recurrence

This blog has gotten a bit out-of-date, but it's, unfortunately, time to blow the dust off and devote some time to it again. My cancer has recurred again, and I'll be going through chemo a third time, starting as soon as everyone can get their ducks in a row. I don't have an exact date yet, but it should be within the next three weeks. It's the same cancer as before, uterine adenocarcinoma metasticized to my lungs again, stage IV. It was discovered during my routine annual scan. I've had a biopsy of a nodule that lit up on my PET scan that confirmed the diagnosis. The good news is, the treatment protocol will be the same, and I respond very well to it. While there are many other things I'd rather concentrate on right now...like building our retirement home, which we started earlier this year...there are much worse scenarios I could be facing. My oncologist and I feel very positive about my prognosis, and hopefully in 21 weeks or so, this will just be another one for the books. I'll keep everyone up-to-date as things develop. In the meantime, I'll keep busy trying to find all my hats and scarves for my inevitable hair loss, which will likely happen about three weeks after the first chemo session, if memory serves. Paul and I are also preparing some soups and stews to go in the freezer for those evenings when we won't feel like cooking. For those of you who don't know, Paul retired last month, so he now has two projects: a new house and a wife going through chemo. He's a pretty good sous chef too. So, dear readers, here we go again.