Remember how I'd emailed the good doctor to ask him if he could tell me if he'd start chemo the day he sees me next week, or if we could let it roll until the next Monday? (You know me. Always looking for a way to extend my time OUT of the hospital, so I can enjoy the crap out of my caffeinated beverages...)
Well... he emailed me back today.
Wednesday, February 4th, I start.
And while what I'd really like to do is throw a walleyed fit that I have less than seven days to go, I'm choosing to focus on the fact that I found out at the beginning of October that I had these two tumors and that chemo was the next stop. And I'm remembering that I was given the choice in October to start chemo immediately, or wait to see what a scan would say in November, six weeks later. And I'm remembering that in November, I got to choose to delay again, which gave me Christmas. And then, this month, I was able to push two weeks further than my doctor wanted to go. ... And now, through the blessing of some sweet scheduler coming down with a wicked stomach flu, I got a 48 hour delay. (A girl can drink a lot of soda in 48 hours, is what I'm saying. And since having this tooth pulled had put a serious crimp in my soda-drinking plans (Dr. Steve told me today that I should be able to drink from a straw again come Sunday), I'm super duper looking forward to having all day Monday and Tuesday to drink from a straw again. 44 oz at a time.)
So, as much, as it makes me want to puke that this will for sure, and for real, be happening in 6 measly days... I'm real (REAL) glad that I've had the last four months.