To save the rest of it.
That's what the doctor told me I have to do to cure this cancer.
I have a daughter that will need me in her life, so that is the plan.
I spent the past week at Sloan. Taking tests. Speaking with doctors.
And crying... a lot of crying.
It is a surreal experience. Trying to understand the complicated schedules and make sense of how my family can manage life without mom.
And not just without mom. Life with a cancer patient.
I'll be treated as an outpatient at Sloan on a clinical trial.
My treatments with be 3 week cycles of chemotherapy for about a year. Typically the cycles are 2 weeks of treatment and 1 week of rest. During my week of rest, I will have to go in for tests.
When I have radiation, it will be 6 weeks with no break. This does not change the chemo schedule.
Some treatments are an hour. Some are ten.
I live about 1.5 hours away from Sloan with no traffic.
So every day is 3 hours longer, just for driving. Probably a little more.
3 hours of being stuck in the car and potentially very ill.
My initial reaction was defeatism.
My next reaction was complete and total fear.
I have a daughter and husband who need me. Who love me.
I am determined to make this work.
I will stay in a hotel on the long days.
I will coordinate a schedule of driving with my family and friends. I hope to have enough people to call when I cannot make it to the city and someone will help.
In the event that falls through, I will use a car service. The sustainability of this option is low for its cost and the emotional drain of being alone. I hope it is a rare thing.
I will sleep in my own bed. I will get to see my daughter and husband everyday.
I will remain positive and strong.
This year of my life. The year I had cancer. The year before I was a cancer survivor starts now.