He Bought The Wrong Cancer
Thursday, August 6, 2009 at 1:46AM 
That’s how it works. You walk into the Cancer Store, go over to the shelf, pick out the one you want, take it up to the front, wait in the long-ass line, finally get to the front, pay, then take it home, and start whatever fucked up treatment plan they guess might work for the cancer you picked. Unless you picked a cancer that they Know Everything About.
We met with the Radiologist today for our consult. She was 12. And brilliant. All those 12-year old doctors are brilliant. They have to be to get into med school at 4. Because she’s 12, she knows that there isn’t definitive research indicating whether or not radiation therapy is beneficial in cases like my husband’s. Given his type of lymphoma, his age, the stage of his cancer, the fact he’s in remission, how well he responded to chemo, and the laundry list of potential and inevitable side effects of radiation, the jury is truly split on whether or not he should have radiation. It’s a big-ass shoulder shrug.
After a lengthy discussion with her about the pros and cons about specific situation, we’ve decided that the long-term risks to his heart and lungs and increased risk of other cancers due to the radiation aren’t worth the trade off. Mr. I’m All That has decided he’s fond of his lungs functioning at full capacity and doesn’t want to increase his risk of heart disease. Whatever.
There’s also a very real possibility that the radiation offers no added value in his case. Were he not in remission, were he 60 or 70 years old, were this his second time battling the disease, we might be making a different decision. (Personally, I think he just doesn’t want to miss another racing season.)
Instead, we’re looking toward the future and planning the We Fucked Cancer In The Eye Fiesta. It’ll give Mini-Martha something to do. That girl is in desperate need of a party to plan.
Most of all, I/we want to say thank you. Thank you to all of our friends and family, to those of you we know in real life, and to those of you we’ve never met face-to-face, who’ve walked alongside us. You’ve kept me off the bridge (or kept me company as I stood at the edge there in the early days), laughed with us, held us up, prayed for us, juiced the juju tree, baked us cookies, brought us meals, mowed our lawn (literally, not euphemistically), remodeled rooms, hauled crap to the dump (again, literally), cared for our children, cared for us, brought us lunch and kept us company during endless hours of chemo (you know who you are), sent emails, Twitters, Facebook messages, cards, care packages, created a Chemo Boy superhero, made road trips to visit us, rolled down hills in bubble wrap, dropped everything on a moment’s notice or less, walked in our honor, raised money for cancer and so much more that makes us lucky as hell to have you in our lives. You make our socks go up and down. You are that breeze that blows our tumbleweeds into the air. We love you.
Smooches!
Reader Comments (16)
I don't know the full story. I am just walking in off the street so to speak.
This is the cancer my father faced. Nasty bastard. They gave him 3 weeks. Thirty years ago. We are so lucky he kicked its arse.
Sending kick cancers arse thoughts your way.
REALLY I'm just glad to be reading this post and to know ya'll are getting a much needed rest from Cancer Hell, I'm SUPER proud a fellow team mate scored a much needed point for our side - take THAT cancer! And I wish I was closer to attend the WFCITE Fiesta, WAY better than a happy birthday soup day!
=)CONGRATULATIONS & BIG ol smoochies!!! =)
XOXO
I have to tell you something, though.I felt so awkward sitting across from you in the bar at BlogHer, thinking,"Oh my God, I'm pretty sure her hubby's sick. Should I say something? Should I ask how he's doing? What if I'm wrong? What if he's not doing well? Bringing it up would be a TOTAL buzzkill, and this woman needs to get away from that sh*t and have a good time. Yep. She's a GoGirl Unicorn tonight. Not gonna bring it up. Instead I'm just gonna sit here and stare at her like the freaking village idiot because I'm too wiped out to think of something smart and witty and relevant."
So, I hope you know my thoughts were with you from across the table, even if I was too much of a jackas to say something nice.
so glad to hear that hubby's doing well, and that you're cautiously optimistic. such a scary thing, that cancer is - and a slippery little bastard, too. the stuff that people think is "easy to cure" kills so fast, and then he gets the "unknown" kind and is good to go. YAY!
Today we got the news that his uncle is dying of cancer of the pancreas. Shit cancer. It's what killed my grandma when I was a teenager. SO. GLAD. that Bob is well again. You have no idea how much energy and prayers we have directed to you all.
love & shit.
tina