Specifically, the day when you start again, in a new place, with a new cabal of doctors, nurses, care givers.
Michael, Andy and I went to Sunnybrook Hospital on Wednesday to meet another doctor and to get a second opinion on the whole deal. As you may have read, the previously provided prognosis was not rosy, and the doctor in question, my "before" doctor, was basically, well, an asshole. No getting around it. He may have been an excellent clinician, and I wish to cast no significant aspersions on his ability, but Jesus Buddy, get some bed side manner, and oh, please tell me all the relevant details about my life and illness. This is MY life, my body, and I get to decide.
But, I don't want to go down the road of wasting any more energy on that doctor, aka Dr Doom. Suivant!
So, we tried another path. And what a different path. Dr Trudeau is a lovely dignified woman of about 60 or so, I would guess. She was wearing a little pink ribbon brooch. She knocked before entering. She laughed. She was consoling when I cried and took my hand. She told me she would progress along X path, if it were her body. We were there with her for about 30 minutes. She also told me that there is always hope. She said she had a lot of patients who lived for years on the medications I will be trying. I say trying, because we don't know how I will react to them. But given my predisposition to imbibing poison without too much ado (everyone, and I mean everyone I tell in the medical professional that I survived two sessions of chemotherapy without stopping is impressed), it will be a matter of dosage monitoring, and there are other options. Not a lot, but more than one. More than the one proffered by Dr Doom. I might get some weird necritizing jaw bone thing, but most probably not. There might be "GI issues" [that's me being delicate on said issues].
She said I could take a few weeks off chemo without any worry of growth. I was worried. I worked hard to shrink those little buggers. She said enjoy Mexico. Back to her on Feb 22.
She is also re-doing some of the diagnostics, and is taking my bone metastases very seriously. So did the intern, the resident, the nurse, and my friend Ali, who turned up as part of the team - a surprise to us all. A TEAM.
So my glass is VERY much half full. Maybe even more.
Tonight, I will go to the school gym with Naomi for Family Movie Night - and no doubt it will turn into some sort of klatch with other mums.
Tomorrow, Great Wolf Lodge with cousins. Life is a crazy ride.