Day 12 (Fri the 13th)

Opinions are like...

One of the first oncologists we spoke with said something that's echoing in my mind because of recent events. She said something like "My educated patients the toughest ones to treat because they get second opinions and complicate matters." I'm paraphrasing, but that was the gist. I was a bit surprised because I am almost 100% positive that if that same doctor was diagnosed with something, she would be considering other perspectives and options and wouldn't take the first diagnosis and treatment to come out a colleague's mouth. Right? Right.

Having that as a bookend, we had some third opinions to round out the early part of the week, and one of them introduced a chemo treatment idea that hadn't been mentioned by any other doctors. It's more aggressive (meaning people who take it can get pretty wiped) and toxic, while having greater efficacy on tumor blasting (technical term). It's supposed to shrink tumors better, in addition to aggressively targeting smaller metastatic satellites, which is the nature of the beast with my cancer.

Needless to say, I've got to make some decisions this weekend. I might be flipping things on its head, and I know what's best for me after having all the various opinions mercilessly preached like they are the only answer I'll ever find. Thankfully, Pancan put me in touch with someone who had pancreatic cancer went through the chemo I might go through who actually gave me some firsthand input. It was most valuable. I have a lot to think about.

Maintenance

A close friend spoiled me with a lovely gift. She got me a session with a healer/masseuse, by the name of Celine. In brief, it was downright splendid. I hadn't experienced something like that before. She kicked it off with some cranial-sacral work, which was awesome, then we proceeded to let the organs talk. I provided the dialog of course. Toomie came up, and we discussed ways to make his ass crumble up. The underlying notion of it all was: your life is what your thoughts make it (one of my favorite quotes of Marcus Aurelius). It all comes down to personal intention with how you will respond to stimulus, whether that stimulus is a cattleprod or some crappy little piece of cancer trying to fuck up your whole package. With regard to the cancer, I plan to shove the cattleprod up its ass, and let Toomie suck on the charge. I am imagining Toomie as a foreign body. Attack him and his cousins, my little white blood cells...go SWAT on his ass.

Sweet Sacrifice

I have to avoid sugar. Damn you Toomie. Darn near have to give up anything vice-ish. Screw you. With a chainsaw to the dome. It's Friday the 13th after all.