....so my mom has breast cancer. Sounds like a sick joke right? nope. It's really happening. She called me on Saturday to say that's probably the case. Then found out Monday it's for sure the case. My family is kind of reeling from it all. It just doesn't seem like this could be possible.
BUT let's save the drama for my mama. Here is the GREAT news. The tumor is small. Really small. To give you some idea my tumor was considered medium at two centimeters and hers is like 1.5 millimeters...I think...those are tiny right? Math. Who needs it?! Anyway, you get the idea.
So she has all the tests still. MRI, further pathology, blood work, scans and all that, but the doc thinks she will be able to avoid chemo. God I hope so. I don't want her to have that at ALL. Sounds like she won't so here's to yearly mammos, right??? Jeez. TRY and tell me they are pointless. Just try.
Anyway, I'm tired. Kind of worn out. But fine.
My treatments have been kind of put on hold because my blood pressure is too high. They think that's from stress and the Avastin. If it's too high again in three weeks I'm pulled from the clinical trial. I really hope that doesn't happen. Of course I will deal with it but I've come so far and to just have to throw out my study results from all this will make me sad. I want to feel like I'm helping or something.
Dr. C doubled my blood pressure meds so that is taking a little getting used to. I get kind of dizzy and sleepy but hey...what else is new. I'm losing weight every week so that will help too. I'm going to try some meditation CDs my friend recommended. All that HAS to work in the next three weeks right? Right.
Let's end on a high note.
I haven't been sleeping very well at all. So at like 9pm I'm exhausted and crash (but then wake up at 3 and can't get back to sleep...you know how that goes). Anyway, I crashed out on the sofa on Monday while watching Beavis and Butthead Do America for the 89th time. Jason was working a shift at the wine bar and he got home pretty late. I don't remember this at all, but I guess he kept saying "Crescent, you want to come to bed" trying to get me from the sofa to the bed so I'd sleep better. You know, being the great guy he always is. I rewarded him by sitting up and yelling "DON'T ASK ME THAT AGAIN!" and shook my finger and everything. I did it in my sleep but that doesn't make it right.
He left me out on the sofa, naturally.
No comments:
Post a Comment