CANCER: Are you done yet?

My dad is a really, really great man. He is my favorite hero. And like all heroes, he too has a weakness. His personal kryptonite is, well impatience. Now, the 2.0 version of my dad, since retirement, is very different from when he was running a construction company. He's much more laid back. He's funny. And well he is getting better at this whole patience business.

But, when he was off being a titan of business and a major bad-ass, he would say things to me like, while out to dinner: "No, take your time with your dinner. I can wait." Followed up, two minutes later with: "So, ya done yet?"

Now, why am I writing about my dad, when I'm supposed to be blabbing on about cancer? Well, I'll tell you. Yesterday, I met with Leslie Vietmeier, ARNP-BC at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's Survivorship Clinic. There, we spent about two hours going over my cancer treatment and talking about both the long-term and late-term effects of my treatment. Nothing too surprising emerged from that conversation, truthfully- except maybe that I need to lean on my newly appointed primary care, MD for stuff like annual echocardiograms and DEXA bone scans. But, seriously not much more than that. She also wrote me a script for a lymphatic sleeve to help with this mysterious arm swelling business.

What she did tell me that I really, really appreciated though was the following: Chemo really, really wreaks havoc on your insides- down to the micronutrient level. She stated that I would probably have another 6 months to a year before I get back to well, 98%- because, as she warned me "With what you've been through, you may never get to 100%." Dang! But, alright. It's still an A, right?

I thanked her profusely for her help. It was the best use of two hours to date. Now, here's why. When I see my awesome oncology team, I get a bit of a mixed message. They say: "Oh, it's totally normal to feel tired and worn out." Followed up with: "What? You're still tired? It's getting better though, right?" Talk about pressure! I finally learned to just accept that there's some strange duplicity around this business of healing. I also learned how to say: "Well, you asked me how I feel. This is how I feel." Fuck normal.

Now Leslie, she confirmed my physical challenges. She stated that chemo (post treatment) allows people to appear on the outside all healthy and normal. But, she said on the inside, my organs and stuff are FREAKING the FUCK out. Ok, those weren't her exact words. I paraphrased....forgive me. She suggested some nutrients and vitamin supplements that I can use to help coax my insides into getting better (B12, B6, probiotics) However, she said the bottom line is this stuff takes time. And that IS normal. More importantly, she welcomed me to the new team of survivorship. I thanked her again. I told her that a year ago, I was given the label "unfavorable." And that was a tough road to hoe. It's gonna take a minute before I can fully move into "Team Survivor" mode.

So, to answer both my dad and my docs, Nope- I'm not done yet; almost though. I'm getting there....

PS-  Yesterday, along with Leslie, I added another member into my survivorship team- Kelly, the business mind behind Seattle designer, Elizabeth Roberts' shop. Ms. Roberts is tasked with designing something amazing to make me beautiful for the June 13, Gilda's Club annual Surviving in Style luncheon. Not a bad person to have in the line-up.....