The "Cancer Cloud"

I feel like Pigpen with his dust cloud - except mine is the cancer cloud - it follows me everywhere and puts a shadow on everything. ( I wish it was just dust, that I could wash off, now that I can take showers again )

Unless something major happens when we get our second opinion, I will be starting my chemotherapy treatments in about 3 weeks. I'm already working to schedule the baseline test for my heart and the first chemo session. It takes longer than the rest. They put the drugs in very slow to see if you have an allergic reaction. I'm very thankful that Kevin will be going with me for this. I'm kinda scared.

But between now and then, I have a ton of things to do. Normally, you would think that would help me keep my mind off what is coming. But I can't shake the ever-looming cancer cloud for more than a few minutes at a time.

Today, I am working with our financial guy to put us on a budget. Great idea, glad we're doing it, should have done it years ago -- (cloud) even with insurance, we've got a pile of medical bills and I'll be working less hours.

This weekend we will be going to New York. We will stay with Kevin's cousin. Eat good food, visit with good people, maybe hit a museum or an art gallery, watch the NY Giants in the SuperBowl, in NY, with a bunch of Giant's fans -- and (cloud) spend Monday at Memorial Sloan Kettering discussing my treatment options.

3 weeks from today is my birthday. Yippie! Good food and wine with family and friends. Tuesday is birthday fun --(BIG cloud) Wednesday I go to the hospital to get poison dripped into my body.

Even cleaning the house isn't cloud free. The 'nesting instinct' before having a baby is nothing compared to 'nesting panic' when you are facing 6 months of potential chemo side effects. I am in a mad rush to get my spring cleaning done. I am rummaging through the closets to gather up clothes and shoes that are too small, and toys no longer loved that are just taking up space. I am attacking mini projects that are 1 step away from being finished and off the list. Yikes!

And certainly, when I run into a neighbor in the street or talk to a friend on the phone - the "Hello, how are you" isn't just a friendly greeting anymore -- (here comes the cloud) the tone in their voice is a reminder that they know what is going on and they are concerned about me. It is very comforting and appreciated - but still a reminder.

A silver lining to the cancer cloud??? Maybe each one of us can learn to put that same care into our voice with every "Hello, how are you". We should let our family, friends and neighbors know that we truly care about what is going on in their life all of the time, not just when adversity has struck.

Have a great day everyone!