The Waiting Room.

So how are we doing? Seems to be the next big question folks are asking me. My answer: I have no clue how we are doing. I really can’t answer, because it depends when you ask me and what emotion I am feeling at the time. We are seriously on a bipolar roller-coaster of emotions. They are everywhere. 

I remember sitting in the waiting room last week. We were waiting for the scan results, my doctor was running over an hour behind. The waiting room is always a weird quiet. No one wants to talk because we all know someone there has received bad news, about to receive bad news or just plain doesn’t want to be there because at some point they received bad news. There are only chairs and big floor to ceiling windows over looking the roof tops of the other hospitals that surround us. No tv, no fish tank nothing for some distraction. I could hear the fan in the ceiling… never heard it before, but last week it was howling, running a high pitch noise. Trying to keep my fear in check. At one point I leaned over to Nate and I said ‘ how about, lets just leave. Let’s just walk out and pretend this isn’t happening’. Do any of you like roller coasters? Remember my blog from years back about roller coaster face? Well Nate and I were rocking the full on roller coaster face waiting for the results. 

Neither one of wanted to be on the ride.  We were sitting there, in the waiting room, going up that first big hill, listening to the clickity clack of the track pulling us up, thinking to ourselves, “I made a mistake, I want off. I don’t really like this as much as I thought… it’s to late to get off now… bad idea, bad idea”. We were about to crest the hill, 400ft in the sky before we just fall…fall straight down and we’re just praying that the ride down wouldn’t be too terrifying.

We got the results… stage 3 cancer. We were ‘enjoying’ the ride down the roller coaster! Nate and myself were high fiveing  each other on our way out of the hospital. As my friend put it “best BAD news ever”. We had never been so happy to only have stage 3 cancer.  At least we think it’s stage 3. Because I’m pregnant, they couldn’t do a PET scan to say really for sure, but hack – stage 3 sounds better than the alternatives.

So here it is Tuesday, 1 week from the second diagnosis. We start chemo on Thursday. The excitement from last week is wearing off as we are gearing up to start chemo. The plan is chemo for 12 weeks. However that brings me up to 31 weeks in my pregnancy. My doctor does not want any dead time in my treatment. So what do we do with the weeks from 32-38??? Maybe try to squeeze in surgery to remove the tumors?  That’s fun… surgery on my lymph nodes to hurry up and heal to then have a c-section 2 weeks later. Or we have the option of 4 more weeks of chemo? But who knows where I will be and if I can tolerate 4 more weeks of chemo after 12 weeks already! 

There is so much in the air right now. Waiting for everything to start and the pieces to fall into place, the rollercoaster to glide out onto the track. 

One thought on “The Waiting Room.

  1. Hi Jodi,
    Sounds like that waiting room needs some TLC 🙂 I am praying that all the decisions made for your care and treatment lead to the ultimate miracle. Blessings, Cyndi

    Like

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