Damn. Just damn.

Chagall - Bridges Over the River Siene

I'm not sure I can put down very well what I'm feeling right now.  I've gotten some really bad news.

Because I don't really feel up to that much, I'm going to start by just putting in some of what I posted on my favorite bc forum the other day:

Turns out my bone scan lit up and (after a snowstorm reschedule) I had a PET-CT and my onc tells me it looks like I have mets in my pelvis.  They're scheduling a bone biopsy, so I guess it's not a sure thing until then, but my onc seemed to feel it was very unlikely to be anything but mets, given the PET results and the history.

She tells me the good news is that my organs look clear, so that's the best sort of mets to have, but clearly mets are still not the best news to get.  

It's so strange, on the one hand I've been worrying about this for so long, especially since I started developing pain in my hip, that it almost feels good not to worry about it, if that makes any sense at all.  And on the other hand, it kind of ticks me off--I got mammograms, I keep healthy habits, eat berries and cruciferous veggies, take my tamoxifen like a champ--so this complete failure of cause and effect working the way I want it to makes me angry.  Useless to be angry, I know, but sometimes it feels good anyway.

I would appreciate any prayers and good healing thoughts anyone wants to send my way.  And I'm absolutely wishing you all continued good health and no more cancer ever!

So yeah.  I'm sort of in limbo, but it seems like the outer circles of the inferno are well within shouting distance (stupid Dante reference, wouldn't my AP English teacher be proud?).  There's a part of me that's holding out hope for some miraculous miracle of benign biopsy, but most of me feels like that's pretty stupid.

I was doing ok with things this morning, but I'm back to feeling really sad and gloomy this evening.  My emotions seem to come and go really quickly right now.  Also, weirdly enough, I'm finding that even when I don't feel like I'm feeling anything, physically I find myself feeling shivery or stomach achy or all sorts of tense.  I guess it's going to be a wild ride getting a handle on this one.

I keep telling everyone who I share this with (not many people, I'm so not ready to be not only "cancer girl" but "'terminal' cancer girl."  damn it.) that people can and do live decades with bone mets.  I know it's true, and sometimes I really do feel like that will be me, too, but there's still another part of me that's sitting in the corner, rolling her eyes, and saying, "yeah.  right.  got a bridge in brooklyn to sell ya, too." (turns out my grumpy subconscious doesn't like capitalization.  who knew?).

Thing is, I know that could be me, I could go with no evidence of disease for decades and decades and then sometime between now and 2025 they could come up with an actual cure and I could live to be the grumpy old lady shaking my fist at you, willfully neglecting to use capital letters, and muttering swear words under my breath.  It could happen.

But I feel like I've lost a little innocence.  I mean, I didn't argue, I didn't slack, I showed up on time for all my appointments, sat patiently through all that chemo, lay there bare chested and beamed with radiation day after day after damn stupid day.  I ate healthy food, exercised until I was told to try resting my stupid hip, and took that tamoxifen every.  single. day.  Because I wanted to be here for my family and was willing to do whatever it took.  I know it was still the best thing to do because it gave me the best chance possible, but having tried and (probably) failed, I know whatever else they try could also fail.  Because, ask me how I know.

(But the first person who want to take my story as proof that conventional treatments don't work had better take off running, because I don't have time for that crap and I'm not interested in your stupid theories.  I usually feel really uncomfortable being blunt like that and usually avoid it, but today I don't care.)

I'm sure at some point, I'll get my act together, stop acting more emo than the emo kids, and charge forward for all I'm worth.  And I'll probably read this later and wonder what the heck I was thinking.  And also I'll become obsessive about proper capitalization.  But that point isn't now.

So right now, I'm beginning this adventure by obsessively trying to mentally get out of being on this adventure.  And writing to try and obsessively find a little place of peace.

The Lord gives strength to his people;

    the Lord blesses his people with peace. 

Psalm 29:11