No Cape, nor Coordinating Tights....

It has occurred to me in the past couple of weeks that people around me are starting to look at me a little funny. I mean, funnier than usual. And it makes me a little squirmy. What tends to surprise most people about me is that, even though I am outgoing, i am actually a rather private person when it comes to some stuff. I don't have a problem sharing the good stuff. I don't even have that much of an issue being transparent in the innumerable ways I screw up. But when it comes to difficulties, challenges, and bad stuff that comes our way....both Don and I tend to play it pretty close to the vest. So, when it came time to "go public", as my friend and pastor, Steve, says, it gave me some serious heebie-jeebies.

So, now most everyone knows of the new Big Adventure for Denise and Don, and I find that I am the recipient of many loving and positive notes and hugs and Facebook posts - and I love 'em, keep 'em coming!! But I also find myself, in more than a few cases, being given a status of near super-hero. Seriously. Don't laugh. But in the loving eyes of a few, it seemed that the cancer diagnosis came with a cape, coordinating tights, and a snappy looking mask. Not so much....

I would like to think that most of my perceived bravery comes from my faith in God. this morning my Facebook post quotes one of the all-time great scriptures, Romans 8:28: "For we know that God cause all things to work together for good to those who love the Lord, who are called according to His purpose". Awesome verse. Awesomer chapter. Check it out. Anyway, so i would like to think that this is the source of that heroic glow that I seem to have floating around me.

But, unfortunately, I think it is mostly still shell-shock. Three short weeks ago this morning, I was happy to have my MRI done so it could show the soft tissue injury in my left hip. It was Don't day off, and we had a great day planned. Duh. We live in Maui. So, I get a call from the MRI place. Come in for a CONTRAST MRI. This morning. Two and a half hours from now. See, I've watched enough Medical Center and Soap Operas to know that this is NEVER, EVER GOOD!! But in we went. The next morning was the call from my ortho (Asian Doogie) telling me about the tumor. Tumors.

To say a dark curtain came down at that moment might sound right, because that is how our spirits felt, but the dropping of a curtain comes at the end of a performance. Our curtain was just rising. By that afternoon, our show, the crazy roller coaster ride had begun in earnest.

SInce then, I have had my moments of being awake and lucid and clear-headed where I am just downright ticked off at this. A few days ago was a good one. Have you ever noticed how women will clean when they are perturbed? Well, that was me. The menfolk were off seeing the latest Bourne movie, and it was just me and the dog and all my pent up indignation. I found a couple of innocent skillets that needed some attention, grabbed an S.O.S. pad (how ironic/appropriate), and started in as I had my chat with God.

"Dear Lord," (scrub-scrubber-scrub), "You know how I said I will be blessed to be used by You for Your glory?" (scrubbedy-scrub-rinse), "I CHANGED MY MIND!!" (scurbby-scrub-rinse-scrub-rinse-CLANG!) "You know how I said I felt humbled to be chosen by You for such a thing as this?" (new skillet - scrubbedy-scrub-scrub) "CHOOSE SOMEONE ELSE!" By the time I was finished with this completely rational, totally reasonable exchange with the Lord, I had cried myself to calm - and had two skillets so shiny and brilliant you could use the reflection to pick stuff out of your teeth.

I do not like this. I do not want this. But here it is. I am in it. And God is with me. Always.

The process itself keeps moving at rather break-neck speed. I got a call from the P.E.T. scan people in O'ahu, and I am set up for Monday morning, so the results will be ready Tuesday morning when when meet with Dr. Labradoodle....Dr Altaha.....I have my biopsy tomorrow morning on the soft tissue ick so they can discern (hopefully) what kind of ick it is exactly so they can use the right anti-ick therapy.

Yesterday, we met with my radiation oncologist, Dr. Diane Tsai - pronounced "sigh" tsorta. Anyway, before we met with her, we had an opportunity to once again sit and wait. We were there toward the end of lunch hour, and so had the chance to sit and observe as the office came to life. In a room opposite where we sat were several comfortable chairs - teal blue leather (pleather??!!?) Lazyboys. The sign on the door read: "Medical Oncology", and we watched as a few people came in sat down, and had their medicine plugged into the ports implanted near their collarbones. Nary a frown in the group. There is a directory near the front doors of the department, and one heading reads: "Tumor Registration". Really?? You can register for a tumor like your wedding gift!?!? Yes, I will take my little barcode-reading gun and choose....the teak salad bowl set.....the ivory pillar candles....8-piece fluted stemware....and a 3-piece set of matching tumors!! Who knew?!?!

Our turn came rather quickly - never have had to wait too long - and met the newest membership of our medical entourage. Pretty soon there will be special blazers, membership cards, and a secret handshake. Dr. Tsai is yet another young and energetic doctor - and with a sweet sense of fashion in her cute little black flair skirt. I appreciate that! She is also a foodie. I appreciate that more! But we actually did talk medicine and cancer and radiation and stuff, too.

Turns out that my femur (thigh bone, for those of you who never watched ER) is pretty much trash, thanks to this tumor that has been hiding there for a while. I am almost certain to need surgery to carve out the bad stuff and put in a rod. As Greg said, looks like I'm still goin' bionic! The question is to do it before or after radiation, and should my Asian Doogie Howser do it here on Maui, or should I go to the big shot ortho onco on O'ahu (I LOVE the syncopation - gotta be a song!). Personally, I choose here and my A.D.H., but those decisions will be made by smarter people than me.

The good news for me is that my radiation treatment should be about 3-5 weeks, and each tumor only gets zapped for 1-5 minutes. I even can drive myself! So, radiation is going to be a lot easier than I expected. When Don and I were reading about side effects and managing them, it said to STAY OFF THE BEACH AND OUT OF SALT WATER. I was so cranked up about that, angry to the point of tears, before the doctor came in and said basically "Eh, don't worry about it. Sunscreen. No hot tubs. Go for it" The other fun thing is that i am going to get TATTOOS!! Fifty-seven. A Grandmother. I'm gettin' my first ink... Actually, it's little dots to make sure that the radiation beam shoots in the same place each time. Yes, you don't want to be misfiring these guys.

The not-quite-so-good news is that chemo is looking more likely. All of these decisions will be made after the biopsy tomorrow and the P.E.T. scan on Monday. I am even on the agenda for Friday's Tumor Board. Do they sit around and do their best Arnold - "It IS a toomah!" "Yes, but vat kind off toomah?"...

So, the ride goes on. And back to my original thought....oh-so-long-ago....I don't like this much. I don't like being transparent about my warts. But I hate being transparent about my needs. I try to help out others when I can. I loathe the idea of asking for help. I have my days and times of being funny and semi-brave. I have days and times, more than I want to admit, of being sad, demanding, and Princess Weenie Pants. I am discovering that there are a ton of things that are going to happen that are going to rob me of my pride - and that's a good thing. There are also things in my private life that will no longer be so. Not so sure how good that is.

I know God will use me in this, and yes, I really do feel His blessing and presence - but He gave me no Superhero costume. You see, the battle isn't mine to win. it is His - and He already has.