Tuesday, in the afternoon while sitting at the computer, I had one of those sharp, knife like pains on my left side, somewhat like I used to for the first several years after my mastectomy, only this time, the pain didn't go away. It is now a tightness and it hurts when I breathe deeply.
Rats. I took ibuprofen to see if it would work on the muscle. Today, Thursday, I decided I had better call my oncologist and find out if I should see him or my D.O. (my regular doc).
I got my physicians assistant who said that I couldn't get in to see my oncologist until Tuesday. If I couldn't get an earlier appointment with my D.O., then I should call her and she'd book me one then. I asked her to tell me which side was the cancer in my ribs so I could tell my DO with more authority. She said that it was definitely in my left side and probably in my right as well. Darn. I was hoping this was a muscle pull, or verification that I am out of shape.
This is sort of bumming me out....well, that's not quite the word for it, I guess I am concerned. I will say, however, that this whole experience has been different than my earlier two battles. This one, I find myself asking myself all the time whether I should join a group, buy a sewing machine or whatever. I mean, what's the point if I am just going to leave a mess shortly because I'm going to die?
Hmm. Thinking back, I do remember being in "The Fabric Place" in Cromwell, Connecticut asking myself if I should buy any more than a quarter of a yard of fabric because I might not make it. I suppose it is the same, it's just that I've been out so long that I've forgotten all those feelings of fear and uncertainty. I must say, however, I'm not pleased with how fast this is seeming to move.
I was talking to another friend who also has a life-threatening illness. She chided me and told me to stop thinking like that...and again said that those family members who had thought negatively did not have good outcomes. Forgive me, but I find that this is a burden. I can't always push it aside. Not that I dwell always on it, but I am taking steps to make sure that some things are in order....like I'm having a garage sale this weekend and trying to sell some of the fabric which I no longer have an interest in. Like the fabrics I got to make my daughter a little jacket...when she was 7. Gorgeous corduroys, funny cat prints I was going to make her a quilt with, some fabric I was going to make tea caddy's with, other fabrics I was going to make something for my sister out of.....I'm just overwhelmed with the amount of stuff, and it is time to move it on.
Am I being morose? Not really. If I don't die from this, then I'll have a neater, cleaner space. If I do, well, then, I'm not going to be burdening my family with the dreck and dross. But I still find it a little difficult to balance the concept that I will only get better if I don't think I'm going to die. Let's put it this way...I am going to die, I just don't know when, and this "little problem" is scaring the bejabbers out of me, but I'd be a pretty unrealistic person, or at least one who isn't exactly looking at reality if I didn't think that this might be the final battle. Heck, it might be...the final battle for the cancer cells. I just wish that someone would hurry up and get me on something that works.