Gentle Reader-
I offer you an update: Today, I was able to do a drive-by at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. The purpose for today's visit was to check in with my capable, kick-ass, and yes, somewhat huggable lung team. If you'll recall, prednisone was removed from my medication roster about six weeks or so ago...BUT, I was told to stay on its ugly half-sister, azithromycin until I was told not to take it any longer. I was warned that once this drug was removed from the line-up, that well, I could get sick again. And that the trick was to figure out just when the "right" time would be. And "SURPRISE!" there's no study or body of research that tells us definitively when that time would be...Dr. M wanted me to stay on this stuff until well into my 60's. Dr. Chang saw it a little differently.
As an aside, so much of this reminds me of dating in my 20's. So much angst, hand wringing, drama. Sigh! I am just too old for this shit. The difference though is that dating was never about life or death- even though I thought it was at the time. What did I know?
Well, today Dr. Chang drew the short straw and got me as a patient. And she decided, with furrowed brow, to remove the drug from the roster. She gave me a stern warning that should I get sick again (because, well I CAN), that I am to phone them right away to be seen. I told her joke's on her 'cuz whenever I get sick with this stuff, the protectors of the schedule will not let me be seen by my doctors. Instead they very abruptly tell me to haul my sick ass on over to the ER to be seen. There, I get to show my BE-HIND, by telling everyone within hearing distance that I'm a CANCER patient and that NO ONE is to touch me until they speak with my doctors. Works every time. It certainly makes the day a little messy for my doctors but I've learned to no longer care about that. And well, I then get to see my doctors. Circle of life, Simba....
So there you have it. I am now down two nasty drugs. I've shed some unwanted .lbs and am within 9 .lbs of fighting weight. To say that I'd be unhappy to get sick again and thrown back into the drug den would be a huge understatement. HUGE.
And yes, in a way I feel free. Yet, oddly I don't feel empowered. The price of freedom at this point in my life is uncertainty. And one of the things I enjoy about getting older is all of the life experience I have under my belt. I can minimize uncertainty about many things; and yet I must still stretch to welcome uncertainty but on a whole different level.
Sure, with grace and wisdom by my side, I will ride this wave. What choice is there, really? And I have enough experience to know just what to do should the occasion for illness arise again. I will show my ass. I will get my way. I will live another day.
Ah! Freedom!
