News From the Front

D went back to the dr today. They removed one of the two drains and one of the stitches that was keeping the incision closed. The path. report came back; 13 of the 23 lymph nodes they took out were "suspicious", the news of which scared her terribly. She goes back Thursday afternoon to have the other drain out, hopefully, and has a PET scan scheduled for Friday morning.

Everybody, thanks for all the prayers and healing energies, and please please please keep them coming. D is fluctuating between calm resignation and utter panic, and needs all the strength she can get. She said she told the dr today that she doesn't "want to die". He told her that from where he was sitting, she was far from that, but she's still so worried.

I can't blame her, can you?

Update

Ok, here's the news:

Surgery itself was successful. When the dr started checking the lymph nodes, he found the first one was enlarged and cancerous. He ended up removing about 20 of them and of course sent them for a pathology report, which may be back as soon as tomorrow.

My sister got to come home Saturday, after surgery late Friday afternoon. She's been in some pain, and the tape they fastened the dressing on with is itching like mad and driving her insane, but otherwise she's pretty good. She has an appt tomorrow, and will be recovering for 2-3 weeks, before they start chemo and possibly radiation.

One part over, another part just beginning.

Hey Everybody

Thank you all so much for the wonderful emails and calls and comments over the past couple weeks. Every bit of it has helped tremendously, it's proved beyond the tiniest doubt that you all are there for me when I need you the most, and I am more than thankful for every one of you.

I don't really have any more news than I did before about my sister. The surgeon wants her to have an MRI Monday, but she's terribly claustrophobic. She's trying to find a facility that has an open MRI; so far, there's only one. They gave her a sedative pill she can take before the procedure, but even the thought of being in that tube paralyzes her with a fear stronger than that of the disease.

Once she has the MRI, they'd wait 7-10 days before performing surgery. They don't know if she'll have to have radiation or chemo, if either, after the surgery. That'll be determined afterwards. She's pretty sure she'll have a mastectomy because she says she doesn't think she could go through this again. Can't blame her. You know, she's the same age my mother was when she had hers. Bitter irony, eh?

What scares me now, too, is what I wrote about in the poem. Three out of five original family members have had cancer. What kind of odds are these? Shitty ones, that's what kind. Not only am I worrying about my sister and how she'll respond, but I'm also worrying about myself, and am I going to end up in the same shape? My dad had leukemia, then the breast cancer in my mom and now my sister. And I know my own health isn't great. I used to say jokingly that it was a 'done deal' that I'd end up with it in some form eventually. But the joke's over. I'm petrified of my chances now.

All I can do about it all is pray, you know? And see my doctor when I'm supposed to go. Which I do. Both of those.

But it's always in the back of my mind.

Karma

There is no movie
Or book
As scary as
Real life.

This is one horrifying disease.

My mother survived it;
My father did not.
My sister is the third person
In my original family
Of five
To have to go through this.

These are not good odds.

What I find the most frightening
--and the most inevitable--
Is the thought that
This is my destiny,
This is my future.
Nobody knows for sure,
Of course,
But, like it says above:

These are not good odds.

There is no movie
Or book
As scary as
Real life.