Ring The Bells That Still Can Ring

I finally rang the bell.

“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.”
―Leonard Cohen

I finished my radiation treatments yesterday afternoon. 25 treatments. 5 long weeks of daily visits to the cancer center.
My burns are intense and my exhaustion is even more so. There are days where my arms and legs feel like water-soaked logs, but I’ve managed to put one foot in front of the other somehow. Sheer will, most days. I didn’t miss a single treatment and despite the vertigo and pain from past broken ribs, I pushed through it. The techs and I shed a few tears and there were more than a few hugs. I made more than one lasting friendship at the radiology center. So many brave beautiful souls facing each day with courage, grace and even humor. Mojo and Garry met me outside with more hugs and kisses. This has been difficult for them as well. We’ve driven through whiteouts and terrible road conditions more than a few times. Mojo travelled with us to every appointment. I couldn’t afford the expense of a dog sitter on top of everything else, and even though traveling in our vehicle makes him anxious, he wants to be with us at all times. I couldn’t have asked for a more supportive team.

The day before my last treatment I had a virtual office visit with my oncologist, who wanted to discuss the results of my recent ct scan.
The nodule in my right lung has grown and he feels is it more than likely cancerous. Depending on cardiology approval, I will be going in for a lung biopsy and will be referred to a thoracic surgeon.

My cardiology team has already advised me that my heart cannot withstand another surgery until my aortic valve is replaced. I have not rescheduled the battery of tests I will need to complete before that surgery because I need a break from all of this. I need to heal, and it is going to take a few weeks for the burns on my chest, underarm and back to calm down. I’ve never dealt with skin burns like this and they are painful as hell. I used to love long hot showers, but not at the present time. The slightest touch of anything touching my skin is almost unbearable.

The most pressing issue at hand is taking care of Mojo. I need to get him to the vet to schedule surgery for him. He has a huge tumor/growth that has popped up under his front right leg on his side. It’s angry and red since each time he takes a step, his leg rubs that area. It is close to bursting and it needs to be addressed, along with a growth near his eye and one that has developed above his foot pad. Our sweet boy has over a dozen troublesome cysts, tags and growths that all need to be examined and I’ve had to delay getting them removed for far too long already. Like myself, he has a high pain tolerance, but I can see in his eyes that he is in pain and it makes me feel like a really lousy dog mom that I have had no choice but to wait to get him taken care of. We have an appointment with his vet next week, and will go from there. I know full well that my heart issue is serious, but I have to be well enough to care for him after any surgery.

Hopefully our vet will allow us to set up a payment plan, because I know from his past tumor removal surgeries that we simply do not have those funds right now. It’s another scenario where worry will do absolutely nothing but make an already stressful situation even more so. I will cross that bridge when I get to it. But oh, so many bridges. Endless bridges. I honestly just want to sit by a stream and be lulled into a state of nirvana. No thoughts. No feelings. Just breathing.


I’m caught somewhere between feeling relieved that my long and painful radiation treatments are finally over, but still dreading what lies ahead. The only way I have managed to deal with so many issues going on at once, is focusing on what I can realistically do today. Not tomorrow or the next day, just today. And today I am giving myself some much needed rest. I’m turning off my phone and computer and crawling back under the covers.

Peace.

*I have a GoFundMe account to help us afford transportation for so very many medical appointments and a mountain of medical bills. Any and all donations are appreciated as well as your good thoughts. My heartfelt gratitude to those who have made this a bit less difficult.
GoFundMe For Cancer Treatment

Cindy

Nature photographer, artist, naturalist and writer. Living with stage 4 breast cancer.

https://my1wildandpreciouslife.com
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He Owns My Heart

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And Into the Forest We Go