Last week was truly the craziest fucking week. So much happened in such a short period of time. On Monday, I went in for my scans. Even though I have stopped expecting good results, you can never truly prepare yourself for how bad the results always are. In six weeks on chemo, my liver metastasis doubled in size. On Tuesday, I went to talk to my doctor about this horrible scan and got routine labs. The labs showed that for the first time since being diagnosed my liver was no longer functioning well. There’s just too much cancer for it to continue on as it should. On Wednesday, I got a call in the evening from the on call doctor saying I had to go to the ER because of something that showed up in my blood work, and I ended up staying the night in the hospital for a false positive. On Thursday, I went across the street from the hospital to my doctor’s office in my pajamas to get my “Hail Mary” chemo. It was there that my doctor chose to come find me in the infusion room, hold my hand crying, and told me that we will know if this last chemo works in four weeks and if it does not I need to go into hospice because I will be disqualified from studies due to my poor liver function. On Friday, I went under general anesthesia to get my liver biopsy.
Holly fucking shit. Is all I can say. After that entire week there is nothing else I could think of besides being told that in four weeks it’s done for me. Throw in the towel. Wait for my liver to kill me. Leave you. I cried and I cried. I held you and I cried. I am not ready to leave you sweet Adeline. I will never ever be ready to leave you. I cried and I cried and I cried.
As the weekend progressed, I started feeling a new feeling – anger. When I first got diagnosed with metastatic cancer, I made the same mistake over and over again. I asked every doctor who I met how long I had to live. Then my world would be shattered by some bull shit made up amount of time because the truth is no one fucking knows not even the doctors. So I stopped asking, and I started realizing the importance of emotionally insulating myself.
While I know that my doctor was coming to me out of love, and I like her and respect her tremendously. I started getting really angry that without being prompted she told me how many grains of sand I had left in my hour glass.
Today, I marched into the office to get my labs done and had a conversation with my doctor’s nurse, in which I made very clear that even if this chemo does not work for me and even if my liver function is not normal, I am not done fighting. I am not going to sit and wait to die. I have too much to fight for and either she is on board with that or I will find a doctor who is.
While I don’t know if realistically it will make a difference or not due to the aggressiveness of the cancer in my liver, and while I am still doing things like meeting with the rabbi to discuss my memorial, I know that no matter what sweet Adeline I am going to go down fighting. Fighting for you.
So here we are waiting to see what this chemo will do. Waiting to see what my liver will do. Waiting to see if I can get on a study. Waiting to see if there is anything out there that can control my liver. Those are the things we need to wait for, but we’re not waiting for me to die. We’re fighting for me to live. Know that I have done and will do anything and everything before I leave you. Anything and everything. I have never loved anything as much as you. I may not always be here to tell you but just like you can’t see the wind rustling the leaves the wind is there. And you may not get to see me love you but my love will always be there.
Love you near or far,