We met my new oncologist today. It's time for a new practice in a new state.
We have officially survived a move half way across the country and I must officially let my life resume its course. It's been 4 weeks since my last "maintenance" treatment and it couldn't be any farther from my mind. I've just been skipping around our new house like a little side-effect-free fairy who eats dark chocolate because the calories don't count. Or maybe they do count, I've just yet to really notice them adding up on my backside yet.
And now it's time for that tiny little hand to come down from the heavens and smack me in the face and bring me back to my reality.
While I was sitting there, plotting out my continued plan for treatment with my new oncologist, an even tinier hand showed up and smacked me again. I was once again reminded that metastatic disease is grim.
Sure, people survive and live long lives after facing a stage IV diagnosis. But more often than not, stage IV colon cancer is "cured" one way and one way only: surgery.
As I've said before, at this point I am not a candidate for surgery. My lung mets are simply too small.
And as I've said before, that's a good thing.
And as I'm saying here, that's also a bad thing.
Because they are so tiny, they would not be easy to find should I go under the knife. And doing surgery that might be completely useless and damaging is not an agreeable risk. They are also spread out. It's not like one corner of one lung would be involved. All corners of all lungs would be accessed with no guaranteed solution. The risks of surgery are far outweighed by the success of chemo.
Though my appointment was thorough and it was nice to see that this doctor was on the same page as my last doctor, that little black cloud followed me out of the office. It was reminding me that I might have many years ahead of me still, and fighting cancer to the bitter end might be involved in every single one of them.
With that said, I do believe in miracles, I do believe in prayer and I do believe in a God that heals.
I also believe in alternative therapies, things that aren't FDA approved and other ways of going about healing that most doctors would snub.
But for now, one of the roads I choose to travel will still involve chemo to a small degree. It is still working to shrink and keep my tumors at bay.
And may the winds of hope come and blow my little black rain cloud away, because even if I go down swinging, the fight is years from being over.