Bring on the diversions

The planets aligned -- my white blood cell count was up -- and I was able to receive chemo last week.  Three down, and one to go.  If my white count hasn't tanked again, I will be able to undergo chemo this week, which will be followed next week with a CT scan to determine its effectiveness.

After 12 treatments, and before my recent four week chemo break, my liver tumors had decreased by 75 percent.  Dr. Glaspy and I are hoping the scan will confirm that chemo has blasted out the remaining 25 percent.  This does not mean the cancer is gone -- fighting metastatic cancer means I will forever be playing whack-a-mole -- but it will offer me a break from weekly chemo.  How long of a break?  One never knows, but it could be a six month break from chemotherapy, which I want very badly.  A real break!

Last week after my treatment, my sister Lucy returned home to her family and job.  When she left, I felt utter despair. I couldn't stop crying.  You never know when the black cloud of sadness is going to cover you, but it is certainly forever lurking in the shadows. The sadness was overwhelming.

Was I sad because my sister left?  Was I sad because I was alone again? Was I sad because I have cancer?  Yes, to all of the above.
After three days of profound despondence and sleeping round-the-clock, I had an epiphany.  When depression enveloped me this time, it was because I had to face the fact that I am truly alone.  My loved ones can walk away and resume normal life, but nothing changes for me.  I remain shackled to this disease -- a disease which can turn on a dime as it has for many.  Diversion is the only way a person living with stage 4 cancer can survive.
My life is a series of short diversions which allow me to experience life outside of my reality.  A reality that is incredibly sad and filled with uncertainty.  Will I see my kids graduate from college?  Will I be there when they are married?  Will I ever know the joy of being a grandmother?

Don't placate me by saying that no one knows these things, that anyone can be hit by a car.  That is so lame!  I believe statistics will bear out that my chances of dying in a few years are far greater than your chances of being killed in a random automobile accident.  It is what it is. And it is my cross to bear.  Is it karma, bad genes, bad luck, or fate? In the next world, I believe I will know those answers.  Until then, bring on the diversions!