<p>Well…today is maybe better. I do want to thank everyone for all of their posts. I wish I could answer each and every one, and, I do want everyone to know that I read every single post written here. I am sorry that I am not able to respond to each of them. I do not feel well and I am not myself; otherwise, I could answer each post. Please know that I do sincerely appreciate everything everyone writes here, and I wish I could do more to express that I am grateful. </p>
<p>I saw my oncologist yesterday; the visit went well in that everything looks and sounds good and in spite of a loss of appetite, I have not lost any weight, and have actually gained a couple of pounds. I am fortunate in that I am rarely alone - there is always at least one other person with me at all times (except when I am visiting a client or in my private office) and no one will permit me to go without eating.</p>
<p>Then, this morning, my oncologist called; the CBC results came back. He does not like that the liver function counts are “slightly abnormal”. He said they have been fine all along. There is a chance he said that this is a side effect of the chemotherapy, but, just to make sure that this is not progression, I now will have a PET scan Monday morning, prior to chemotherapy on Tuesday. He will get a wet read and make a decision to change drugs or continue the course. </p>
<p>Obviously, this is scary news, but, on the bright side, I am grateful that my oncologist appears to be obsessive to every single detail of my situation, and that he moves quickly and makes decisions with confidence. When he talks to me he can cite science from my file that I cannot imagine how he can remember. I looked through his notes yesterday when my file was unattended and he had written some comment or another next to nearly every single entry on the last couple of CBCs. I am also trying to remind myself that he wanted me to have the MRI to make sure there was no chance of paralysis, and, the results came back clean. So, it is very good that he is being cautious here as well - and - even if the results come back challenging, he has a solution. So I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to bow down to this. I refuse to let this sidetrack even five more minutes out of my heavily scheduled day. I refuse to be complacent, or acquiese (sp?) to such a cowardly disease. I refuse to allow this cowardly, weak, useless disease influence who I am, what I will do, and how and why I will live the hours and days left to me, regardless of if there are few or many are left. </p>
<p>As to the church, my friend and I talked, and we will join. We’re a bit confused as to how to actually join a church (“do we just show up with our catholic credentials and we’re automatically “in”??” my friend wonders). We’ll figure it out on Sunday I guess. I am certain there is one God, and many paths to Him.</p>