Middle of the road

In conversations with friends when asked about how I was preparing for my pathology (which I knew from the time of diagnosis 8 weeks ago would be a defining moment) I often said that logically, I understood there to be polar extremes ("it's a miracle! the cancer disappeared!" to "well, it looks like it's spread a lot further than we first thought") but that I would probably fall somewhere in the middle.  This was logic, which is helpful when there is a loooong time to wait for news.

This turned out to be the case.

The cancer was found in about 1/3rd of the nodes they took out, which means I am not getting any get-out-of-jail cards and will need to do some radiation (just under arm, which is a nicer idea than right on my chest wall) and chemo. The amount and type and duration will all be determined when I meet with Dr. B - my oncologist - next week. Though my tumor is considered "small" (T1) the six positive nodes bump me into a category of treatment that does not take chances. It's gonna be an h bomb. 

While I was prepared for this to be a probable outcome, it made for a glum night last night after having that strong outside-chance hope and an EFFING ARMY OF PEOPLE PRAYING FOR ME/SENDING ME ENERGY that I didn't catch a break. 

Yes, it could have been SO much worse. I am truly grateful it was not.

And, I'm holding the new reality with a lightness and open heart. Things in this field change so fast - year-to-year, really. If you talk to someone in a similar protocol to yours who went through it 7 years ago it is notably different from what people are experiencing today. 

We also know lots more about the things we can do to ameliorate the crappy side effects of these "scorched earth" methods. 

In any case, the big hump is now over. I will soon understand a bit about my coming year or two. As one of my cancer mentors said on her own blog, anticipation is so much harder than reality. 

So, OK.

Let's do this thing.