And the Journey TRULY Begins…
Up until today, all this talk about pancreas cancer, treatments, journeys, statistics, etc. has been theoretical. The ideas were abstract; they were something that will occur in the future and it was very easy to “brave” and matter of fact about what was going to happen because it was going to happen in the future. It’s one thing to wax philosophic about the what the next six weeks were going to be like with all the radiation and chemotherapy that I will experience; it is a completely different beast today, as I get ready to have my chemo port placed. A friend wrote me an Email yesterday wondering if I was particularly nervous about today. My initial thought was: “Not really” but then I began to think.
Now (if I understand it correctly), putting in the chemo port (a.k.a., a “port-a-cath”) means putting in a catheter, similar to a PICC line (peripherally inserted central catheter), into the upper portion of my torso. Unlike a central line, though, the chemo port lays under the skin, so it is less obvious. The purpose for both the chemo port or a PICC line is to provide easier access to my vascular system, allowing my doctors to draw blood and infuse medicine without having to stick me in the arm (for example, to put in an IV) each time. It is a very routine procedure and there is relatively little risk to me today. HOWEVER, what this does mean is that the abstract musings of the last 30 or so posts come crashing into the very concrete (wall) of reality today. Today, my pancreas cancer is just a little bit more real. Today, if nothing else, I am stepping up to the starting line of the REAL journey with this illness. Today, philosophy be damned. Today, I really do hope that what is important *IS* the journey, rather than the destination.
In recent days, I have had several folks from my old high school post comments on this blog. It was great to hear from Darrell and Jim (two people who, for all intents and purposes, I had not heard from in 20+ years). Last night, though, a very dear friend from high school left me a message. She said (paraphrasing): “While I hate that you have to take this journey, I’ll be there with you!” Kathy was one of two fellow students from Easton High School with whom I have kept in touch (Gary, my other friend, is a radio personality, turned brewmaster, turned chef — including a stint as an executive chef for the CIA for which he once had the opportunity to cook for POTUS, turned restauranteer). I am truly glad to have both along for this particular road trip (and this time we don’t have to cram into my Mom’s VW bus for hours on end)!
I will post later about how the procedure went and my very enjoyable day yesterday celebrating my younger son’s 11th birthday. Right now, however, it is time to load into the car and go to the hospital! More when I get back!
Merle
Merle, maybe it will help you to know that my friend Honey is about a month ahead of you in her treatment, having had her port installed a month ago and been having chemo and radiation since that time. Even at 62 and not in the best of health (prior to her cancer I mean) she is doing quite well with her treatment, experiencing few side effects, blazing ahead as always. She was in the hospital over the weekend with pneumonia, but is back at her sister’s reupholstering furniture as we speak. I’ve never seen anyone, cancer or no cancer, bounce back from pneumonia that quick! So here’s hoping you do at least that well, and my money is on you doing even better. — Patty
You do know that they have drugs than can control the nausea now, right?
Praying for you today, my new friend. Our shared journey through cancer is certainly not one either of us wanted to go on (especially with gas prices through the roof! – ha ha!), but know this there are many of us fighting alongside you this common foe.
I suspect you getting your port today will be much like my losing my hair was – a true milestone event in your journey – a watershed moment if you will. Embrace it though, don’t be afraid of it – embrace it – it is your path to healing.
Many thoughts and prayers are with you today,
Rhonda
Merle, best wishes for today. In the very ancient parlance of Earth-centered traditions, like Druidry, what you are describing in this post is Air and Earth (with a little Water thrown in). You’ve, rightly so, spent a lot of time in Air–the idea and the thinking about what you are about to go through. Now, the actual hardware–Earth. Working with thoughts, ideas, philosophy, theology–it’s all Air–crisp, clean, powerful, here now, and then gone! Earth is more solid stuff. Our bodies, things we can touch, medical hardware like ports–earth stuff, minerals, chemicals, wood, stone, bone, etc.
And, we cannot but help have some feelings about all of this. That would be Water. How I feel runs through me whether I want it to or not.
That you are creating this blog journal and inviting us all to share in it? Well, that’s be a bit of creavitivy, imagination. And that is Fire.
So, they are all here. And please know, and I suspect I might speak for many, we hold Spirit together with you and around you.
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step” – Lao Tso.
I shaved my head in support of you.
Your journey is not solitary. You have many people praying, pulling and caring for you. Take only the steps that are required for today. Do not worry about tomorrow. Continue to be a positive influence on everyone you meet. We will all be walking with you. We will sometimes be beside you, sometimes behind you and sometimes even carry you(if needed) as you allow us to help you. Take strength in the fact that you are loved by many. So, let’s take in the sights and smell the roses, there are many things to see and do within a thousand miles. Find a reason to smile everyday. The only difference between a good day and a bad day is your attitude. Keep your chin up!