Cancaversary #13

 

I must admit - back when my cancer diagnosis knocked me off the road and out of my camper van, I really didn't think I'd be alive thirteen years later, still trying to make sense of it all. 

But, here I am. wow!

So far, my cancer has stayed gone, at least so far as I know. The oncology team kicked me out several years ago; I never did have any follow up scans to make sure the surgery had caught everything. But, I have no reason to think it's actively lurking about; I have none of the symptoms which would signal it has resurrected itself.

This year, the knowledge is a bit bittersweet, given what Kate's still going through. Despite knowing the futility of the question, the thought still crosses my mind, "why her and not me???" I'd trade places with her, really I would...

But such is not within my control, so every time the question floats up, I let it go, let it float away again.

This year, knowing she is still here, knowing her cancer is undetectable (for now), I am SO grateful to be here in California to celebrate the anniversary with her. 

I think, somewhere in my head, she was still in the place she was when I'd last seen her in late October - complexion, tinged gray, breathing, a struggle. 

But between then and now, she's been busy doing all the things she can do to help herself heal - physical therapy, massage, acupuncture, yoga, rest - and she's made great strides in her recovery. She looks and feels worlds better than she did when I last saw her. *whew* 

She learned some valuable lessons about the price you pay when you attempt to push through it during her first bout with the disease; is actively working to not repeat those mistakes. When she returned to work two weeks ago, she returned on a part-time basis.

I am so proud of her.

We are here!!!!

Goodbye, Stealthmobile

Last time I brought the Stealthmobile, my beloved 2006 Mustang convertible, in for service, I asked my mechanic, as I always do, if he thought she would still be road-worthy for a while.

"Janice," he patiently replied, "Your car is in decent mechanical shape. But. If this was 1970, that would be a 1950 car. It's running well, but it WILL break eventually. After a car is 20 years old, parts get harder to find. I'm still happy to fix it, but you could be waiting a week or so while I dig up parts, and this is your only transportation. Think about it."

It's been a few months, and yes, I've been thinking. Because as much as I hate to admit it, he was absolutely right.

It's time to move on.

I've gone through most of the phases of grief. (I skipped anger - there's no bad guy in this scenario.)

I jumped straight into denial. 

Nah. It's a great car. What does he know? I've had very little trouble with it. It'll be just fine. (Janice, what happens if it breaks down on the road, and parts aren't available??)

Bargaining.  

OK. I'll get a new car, but there's no reason I can't keep the old one! (Janice, you only drive 6000 miles a year. That's not enough to keep two cars happily running. It's just not. And, if you kept the Stealthmobile, that new car would never get driven. It will not be as fun to drive. You know this. You would own a very expensive paperweight.)

Depression.

How can it have been 20 years already? Stupid passage of time! I DON'T WANNA have a car payment! I want what I already have (only still new enough to drive for a long time). I'm going to be so sad when spring comes and it's the perfect day, and...  the top on the new car will stay right where it is. (All true.)

Acceptance.

It's been a great run. I mean, how many people get to drive their mid-life crisis cars for 19 years? Very few. It's time to let someone else have the fun of driving the car. And, you know, when you drive to Minnesota these days, long about hour six, your butt starts speaking to you very unkindly. You WOULD be more comfortable in a vehicle that doesn't sit quite so close to the ground. Perhaps having a bit of cargo space wouldn't be so awful...

Fine!

I've known for a long time I'd probably be happy with a small SUV, and the new hybrids get decent mileage. I asked the few car guys I know if they had recommendations, and got a unanimous answer. (how often does that happen??) Honda or Toyota.

I went out a couple of weeks ago, test drove the CR-V and RAV4, and picked the CR-V because the seat fit my keister a bit better. (I liked both cars - had to find some sort of tipping point.) Once I'd chosen, I decided to go ahead with the purchase - best to rip the bandaid off quickly - and picked up my new car last week. (Yes, new. The used car market still has very little selection and the cars are almost as expensive as the new versions.)

Which left just one question - what to do with the Mustang?

The dealer, not surprisingly, was unwilling to give me much on trade. I offered it to Joe, who has loved my car as much as I do ever since I bought it right after he left for college, but he doesn't have a garage, and doesn't need another car, and all the practical reasons, so he turned me down. I then asked a couple of car guy friends if they could help sell it, and had it tentatively sold within two days.

But before the deal was signed, Joe came back around. Practical, schmatical. Was it too late to buy the car? I knew Lloyd would be deeply disappointed, but man. I don't care how old he is, Joe is still my kid. So, I backed out of the deal. (I had lunch with Lloyd last week; we're good - he's promised to forgive me. Soon. Once he lets go of the idea of owning the car.)

I had resigned myself to letting go, but have to admit I had tears in my eyes watching the tail lights disappear up the street after Joe came to pick the car up last night. Knowing it was Joe driving did make it easier. He has the skills to keep the car happily purring for a good long time. (a much more affordable pursuit when one doesn't have to pay for the mechanic's labor. ) 

Goodbye, Stealthmobile! You were the best impractical purchase I've ever made. Thank you for almost twenty years of driving fun; of putting the top down and letting my concerns fly out with the wind.

May you have a long life yet - and may Joe have as much fun driving you as I did. 

Godspeed.

Test Results

As scary and hard as cancer treatment is, researchers have made some helpful gains in the decade since Kate first had cancer - one of those gains is the availability of a personalized blood test which will show if DNA from her cancer is circulating in her bloodstream. When it was offered, Kate jumped at the chance to have it - one of the hardest parts of cancer is not knowing if it's really, really gone. 

They used the tissue from the tumor they extracted during her surgery in October to develop the test, and took a blood sample at the end of the month for the first run. It took time for the test to be ready, and the results from that first draw came back in early January. 

They showed a small level of tumor still circulating in her blood.

When she shared the news with me, my heart plummeted. It was SO NOT what I'd wanted to hear. I cried inside, and mentally braced myself against the possibility her treatments might not work to get it gone.

But then logic stepped in to assert itself. The test was done after surgery, yes, but it was before she went through her five weeks of radiation. Perhaps, just perhaps, that particular trip through the valley of misery wasn't just-in-case. Perhaps the rays had caught the remaining errant cells.

I waited with bated breath for the next few weeks. Hoping anyways, but afraid, so afraid, the cancer had established itself elsewhere in her body, out of reach of the radiation treatment.

I thought we'd have to wait another month or two for them to run the test again (it's an expensive little bugger), but they ran it at the end of January.

This time it came back negative!!!!! She is currently NED - No Evidence of Disease. The beast has gone back under cover! (I don't quite dare to hope it's vanquished forever.)

This time I did cry. It's been a week. Tears of relief still spring to my eyes and something eases in my chest so I can breathe a little easier whenever I think of it.

She didn't go through all that for nothing. She really, really, really (three reallys!) has a chance to get better a second time. I have no words for how comforting I find this knowledge.

I do know that knowing it's gone (for now - my brain insists on adding the qualifier) is making the Lupron (aka that damned shot)-induced process of instant menopause easier for her. Estrogen withdrawal is not fun, she is grumpy, exhausted, and hormonal, but it's also not the misery of chemo or radiation. It's her best shot of keeping the beast at bay, and she will follow the regimen as long as she can. 

Speaking from experience, side effects can become overwhelming over time - but I know she will take it one day, one step, at a time. 

We have today.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!