Three Down

After a rough couple of weeks, struggling with gross symptoms and questioning my ability to see this battle through; last week’s treatment day brought some much needed optimism. I met with both doctors treating me—the traditional oncologist and the naturopathic oncologist. Both had good news and positive offerings. While I did hit a small set-back, this third visit to the center gave me the lift I needed and I may have found God as well.

First, the not-so-great news. Upon drawing my blood, they found that my neutrophils % was very low at 0.70 where 1.70 – 7.0 is the normal range. They labeled me “Fabulous”—wait, no, that wasn’t the word. It was “Neutropenic”, that’s sounds right. This means I’m at great risk if I contract any kind of infection before my white blood cells can be replenished. And to aid in replenishing them, I’ll need to administer the obnoxious at-home injections for 5 days instead of 3 days like usual. The evil symptoms those damn injections bring apparently mask the good work they’re orchestrating inside my bone marrow. Yet how can something that’s so absolutely vile to me, be helping?

Additionally, I was given a list of precautions to follow while my wbc-soldiers are reloading. Among the list is avoiding crowds and sick people, not eating raw foods, avoiding scratches and cuts to my skin (because I would otherwise seek them out?), and avoiding construction areas (surely this is to avoid cat-calls from workers with slow-moving-bald-lady fetishes). Needless to say, it’s been a rough, painful, symptom-full, and boring past few days.

On to the good news (or potentially good, I should say). During my visit with the naturopathic oncologist, we were given some much needed encouragement through supplemental and nutritional education. It seems my good diet and continued natural remedies will significantly increase my chances of killing the existing cancer, decrease my chances of recurrence, and healthfully support my body while the battle burns on. As this intelligent yet earth-minded man offered advice on natural care for my body—while expressing resentment for a medical system that pays little to no attention to diet—with his waves of white hair and neatly groomed silver beard—both R2 and I realized he no longer looked to us like Kenny Rogers, but more like how we picture God. And certainly God would have much to say about the American healthcare system and the benefits of natural remedies.

During my visit with the traditional oncologist (non-God doctor), he revealed his already-in-play plan to hit me hard—which explains why I’ve been getting all 3 chemo drugs at once instead of 2 for six weeks then 1 other for six week—since I’m healthy and young (the only good thing about being in the breast cancer world, is being considered “young”….I eat it up each time they say it). His hope is that my cancer will gravely respond (oh, and the treatment won’t kill me along the way), and I’ll get away with only 8 weeks of treatment instead of 12. That would be a serious reason to celebrate, and was just the boost I needed to courageously march back into battle. Three down and fucking hopefully only 5 to go.