The Ball Starts Rolling........

11/8/12--Thursday--Day 26--Being the Patient
Today I found myself sitting in a place I never imaged being doing something I never imaged doing.  But there I was, my first day as a cancer patient.  Though Greg wasn't there, Trina and Brooklyn stood by my side as we walked into the cancer center to do labs.  It really wasn't a big deal--blood work, EKG, chest xray--standard procedures before going into any surgery.  And the MD Anderson Cancer Center is amazing.  It is beautiful.  The people are all so friendly, super understanding, and very helpful.  There was barely any wait time.

After my initial tour from Dale, the volunteer from the other day, I knew where the lab was so I didn't stop at the information desk.  I was now a cancer patient so I figured I should act like I knew where I was going and what was going on.  First we did the blood work.  I knew what to expect for that, except for the sticky labels.  There they were again--a printout of who I am converted into barcodes on labels repeated over and over.  A nice gentleman called me back and I sat in the lab chair as he took a label and carefully secured it around each of the little vials that were about to contain my blood.  "Do they test my blood to see if the cancer is in other places in my body?" I asked.  "Oh, no.  A test like that is very expensive.  This checks your white count, platelets and the thickness of your blood," he assuringly answered.  "Where is your cancer?"  I was surprised he didn't already know.  "I have breast cancer," I said surprisingly confident. He shook his head as if to reaffirm what I said and then offered in return, "My mother is being seen here for breast cancer right now.  She's always surprised how busy we are."  "I guess that's job security for you," I said as I smiled.  "Yea, but I would rather change careers," he replied.  He was great at his job.  I didn't even feel the pinch as the needle went in then he connected vial after vial, each with my unique identifying label.  When we were finished, he escorted me back to the waiting area.

As we waited for the next technician, Brooklyn went to the car to retrieve her iPad, anticipating a long wait as we made our way through the next two steps.  Trina asked me how early I was going to head back to Safford in the morning to make it to work.  A sudden sense of carelessness rose up inside of me and my emotions got the best of me.  My tears began to well up, "I don't know if I'm even going to go to work tomorrow.  Right now I just don't care."  I knew it was wrong.  It was self-pity rising up and I had to beat it down, but I was emotionally on overload from this disheartening year.   First my toe surgery went wrong, and I developed RSD, a rare, crazy disease which required trips to Tucson every other day for shots.  I still can't wear heals after six months.  Then losing my mother drained me emotionally.  God how I wish she was there with me at that moment.  And now cancer.  "I think I would handle this better emotionally if I wasn't already so drained this year," I told Trina, but then immediately felt stupid for saying that to her.  Here is the woman whose whole life has been turned upside down for almost a year and a half as she has been the main caregiver for her mother who is battling cancer and had a bone marrow transplant.  Any suffering I've done pales in comparison to what Trina has faced.  She has lost countless family members to cancer, including her own dad, but she just keeps hanging in there with a positive attitude.  Then there is my friend Paula who is truly in a battle for her life against cancer.  I have yet to see her feel sorry for herself.  These friends would be my constant reminders that there is no room for self-pity.

It wasn't long before the EKG technician called me back.  It took her longer to hook up the cords than to do the test.  From there we moved up to the second floor to wait for the chest xray.  As we walked down the hall, Brookie on my right and Trina on my left, we must have looked like three women ready to kick some butt.  A man in his thirties was smiling as he was coming from the opposite direction.  As we passed, he said, "OH, YAY!"  We all three started laughing and then realized he was laughing at the shirts.  That morning, Brooklyn surprised me with shirts she bought for everyone on my "support team".  They were black t-shirts with different sayings.  Hers said, "Think Pink" but Trina's shirt most likely elicited the comment from the stranger.  Hers said, "Got Boobies? Get Checked."  We laughed as we made our way down to the end of the hall.

The chest xray was easy. It took longer to get undressed than to do the xray.  I asked her if they were going to do a full body scan to see if I had any signs of cancer anywhere else.  She explained that may come later, after surgery, after they test what they take out.  As she walked me back down the hall, she explained that I would be seeing her again throughout the treatment.  I thanked her as I left.

Earlier that morning, the schedulers called while I was still in Cottonwood.  They confirmed my surgery for Nov. 30th, a pre-op appointment for the 27th, and it looks like I'll be back on Monday to meet my new radiologist oncologist.  And with today, the ball starts rolling.