SunnyBrook Yarns

"It's Cancer," he said, and the whole world changed.

So, it's been awhile since I posted. First things first, I am fine, and I will continue to be fine, so don't be alarmed.

I'd had some troubling things going on with this old body, so I made an appointment with my doctor for some tests. He sent me for some more tests. We left for a long weekend, on a motorcycle ride to Arkansas to see some good friends. Along the way, the doctor's office called and the nurse told me that my PAP smear and ultrasound were both abnormal, and the doctor wanted to see me right away.
We were halfway through Missouri, so 'right away' was not going to happen. The nurse said that she would have the doctor call me and we sat, shocked, for a desperate few moments, then mounted the motorcycle once more and continued to our destination. It was a very silent ride. As we were checking into our motel, my phone rang. It was the doctor.
"It's cancer," he said, and the whole world changed.
We made an appointment to see him the following Tuesday, and did our best to enjoy the gathering and the company of people we see far too infrequently.

"It's going to be ok. I don't know how I know it, but I know it!"

This was what one of my friends said when I told him.

I believe him.

And so, since the first of October, I have been diagnosed with uterine, or endometrial cancer, had a D&C, had a total hysterectomy, have undergone twenty-five externally delivered radiation treatments and three internally delivered radiation treatments. They used Goshen Hospital's brand-new one of these for my surgery:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Da_Vinci_Surgical_System

It's a Da Vinci Surgical System.

I think it's a pretty cool invention!

I have five tiny scars.

Very cool..

I made the decision early on not to tell everyone about this cancer for awhile. I don't like to talk about my illnesses. I don't feel the need to fill up Facebook with my woes. I don't like being fussed over. We told close family members and a handful of friends. We told our employers and co-workers. Really, other than having been off work for a few weeks after the surgery, you wouldn't have known that anything was wrong, so why make a big deal out of it? My surgery was a breeze, and other than being easily tired for a time, I felt no adverse effects. The radiation went ridiculously well, with only negligible side-effects. I don't look any different than I did before the diagnosis.

It wasn't really a secret,

I just didn't want to have to talk about it ALL of the time!

Cancer, as I said recently, is scary.

It makes people sad.

It sucks all of the oxygen out of the room, and people treat you funny.

I hope that no one will feel slighted or left out.

That wasn't my intention.

Now, however, I am embarking on chemotherapy, and if you see me, I might look different, and so I am telling you. This coming week I will receive my port for the delivery of the medication, and my first treatment. I will have a total of six chemotherapy sessions, one every twenty-one days.

I might get sick.

I might lose my hair.

But I will be ok!

My doctors are confident that the cancer has been entirely removed. However, the tumor was very advanced, and so they are being very aggressive with my treatments, so it will not come back.

So.

There you have it.

I had cancer, but I don't have it any more.

If it comforts you to say a prayer, I'll be glad for your efforts.

If it helps to give a hug, I like those, too!

By the way, yes, I HAVE made regular visits to my doctor, and I HAVE had regular PAP smears. My tumor's symptoms were masked by what we thought were just symptoms of menopause, and the PAP test is only 50% reliable in detecting the type of cancer that I had. Talk to your doctor. Ask the right questions, and give the right answers.

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There has been knitting, of course!

There was a scarf: