Which Path to Take

Walking one of our favorite trails.

“I love to walk. Walking is a spiritual journey and a reflection of living. Each of us must determine which path to take and how far to walk; we must find our own way, what is right for one may not be for another. There is no single right way to deal with late stage cancer, to live life or approach death, or to walk an old mission trail.”
― Edie Littlefield Sundby, The Mission Walker

This has been a very difficult and somewhat jarring week.
I had a Bronchoscopy/lung biopsy done under general anesthesia this past Tuesday. The procedure was very stressful and painful and I hope to never have to repeat it. The biopsy results were totally unexpected. They literally took my breath away.
The surgeon wasn’t able to biopsy the mass in my top lobe or the largest lymph node in the bottom lobe that appeared positive on my PET scan, but the lymph nodes he was able to get to told him what he needed to know.
Positive For Non-Small Cell Carcinoma. Metastatic carcinoma, consistent with breast origin.

Stage 4.

It is in both lobes of my right lung and has spread to surrounding lymph glands.

My pulmonary surgeon was quite sure that he would find a cancer that was caused by years of cigarette smoking. While those types of lung cancer are difficult to treat, metastatic cancer is incurable. It has spread from my left breast, to all surrounding lymph glands, and now my lung and surrounding lymph glands.
Two breast tumor and lymph removal surgeries and then 5 long weeks of radiation treatments didn’t stop the spread. It may have slowed it down, but metastatic cancer is stubborn and it travels. Sometimes slow, sometimes not so slow. It all depends on the person and how well they respond to treatment(s).

I have fought so damn hard for so long through illness after illness, but cancer is a destructive beast that also wants to live.

Cancer patients always know in the back of their mind that these setbacks and new cancers can happen at any time. We hope like hell that they don’t, and we focus our energies on ridding our bodies of cancer cells, while making self care a priority. We tuck those fears into a safe dark place so we can function. They’re tucked away where they do not overwhelm us since we are already physically and mentally weakened by the treatments.

Markers also showed up in my breast on my last PET scan, so I will be having an ultrasound on both breasts tomorrow. The following week I have an appointment with both my cardiologist and radiologist and soon after, I will be seeing a new breast surgeon. She will be my third.
At this time, I am without an oncologist. My last one moved his practice to Ann Arbor and the oncologist that ordered my last scan will not be starting her practice until sometime in January. She has left her former practice and is moving to a new network.

Since my aortic stenosis has yet to be dealt with, I am not sure what my cardio will sign off on. Chemo was taken off the table early on, due to my damaged heart. I’ve already been told I am not a candidate for lung surgery, so…… I’m honestly not sure what that leaves, other than more radiation treatments. If I receive the type of radiation that has been brought up more than once, I will have to travel at least 1.5 hours one way for each treatment. The thought of that is so daunting, but I will do anything and everything I can do to extend my life- as long as I still have some sort of quality of life, and everyone has a different definition for that and it is always subject to change.

My husband is just devastated. We’ve always rolled together. Always. We enjoy each other’s company and have always worked together so well as a team. As cliché as it sounds, he truly is my best friend. He owns my heart. I trust him like no other and he has been to hell and back with all of my illnesses without complaint. Just love. Always love. I am hoping he will join some sort of support group to offer him a safe place and understanding through this journey, but he is a very private person and never asks for help. Just mine.

(And speaking of help, I am adding the link to my GoFundMe. Again. :( Our resources are gone. Gas funds alone have blown through all donations I have managed to save, as well as medical payments. Then two emergency surgeries for Mojo. I have yet to pay the radiation center off from my last treatments, so hopefully they will allow me to use that facility again, if it is needed. I have no idea.
If I have to be hospitalized at any point (and I definitely will for my valve replacement), Garry will need to stay nearby in a motel as I will be in ICU for a few days at the very least and I absolutely need him close. Driving so far to and from hospitals is tiring and expensive both. I will also have to find a boarding kennel for Mojo. I cross my fingers each time we take off for an appointment in our old tired vehicle, and quite honestly I wish I knew of a person or organization who would allow us to put their name on the title of our home, and all else we own for that matter, in exchange for a good vehicle that we can trust. We have no children, we have no family members that check on us and we’re always pretty much winged every thing on our own. If not for the help from good friends, many that I have met via the internet , and complete strangers with huge caring hearts, we couldn’t have made it as far as we have. Medical bankruptcies mess up your credit for a very long time, and I’m pretty sure we will be forced to claim another one before all of this comes to some sort of end. And let’s be honest, I’m talking about my own end. )

I feel a bit more peaceful today than I did earlier this week. Perhaps some of the shock has worn off. Perhaps my own stubborn refusal to give up that I seem to have been born with has resurfaced. It’s hardwired into my very bones. But more than likely, it was just getting out for a nice brisk hike. We all needed it. Mojo is very sensitive to everything I am feeling and we all needed some fresh air and time among the trees I love so well. Sitting here worrying and feeling overwhelmed with the enormity of it all is just a bit too much to wrap my mind around right now. I have to fight hopelessness with everything I can muster. I don’t have the energy to crawl out of that dark hole and I know that as well as I know the familiar song of the northern cardinal that is singing outside my bedroom window.

I have lived a very rewarding and interesting life. My treasure chest of memories contains as much happiness as it does sorrow. I have been more fortunate than many, but there is so much I want to see yet. So much I want to learn and discover. I have always been a curious student of nature and I’m an explorer at heart.

I’m not talking about expensive vacations or shopping sprees or anything the least bit extravagant. We learned how to go without such things long ago. They’re just so unimportant. I’m talking about watching a sunset while wrapped in my sweethearts arms. I’m talking about belly laughing while Mojo dives into leaf piles over and over again. I’m talking about the simple things that have always given me the most joy. Birdsong. I can never say that I’ve heard enough birdsong , found too many salamanders, or spent too much time searching for moths. I could never help too many turtles cross roadways, count too many stars or breathe in the heady scent of too many milkweed plants.

It’s all worth fighting a disease that wants to take my life yet another day. Every walk we take, every full moon we watch, all seems a bit more important now. It always has been, but sometimes we need reminders of how very precious every breath truly is.

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 and wishes. My heartfelt gratitude to those who have made this a bit less difficult.
GoFundMe For Cancer Treatment