It's after 6am, but I'm wide awake. Sleeping has been difficult. I did 2 loads of laundry at 2am the other night. I should use this time to mop the kitchen floor, but don't feel like it. I'm not sure why I decided to document this journey, but I do know that writing has always been therapeutic for me. And I think it could be helpful to someone else that might have to deal with this. I'm sure that Al will be supportive to others once he gets past this bumpy road. Or "inconvenience" as he puts it. We talked for hours last night. He tells me he plans to fight and survive this, but he isn't afraid of death. He also said that if he doesn't make it, he is sorry and to know that he didn't give up. I can't even entertain the thought that he might die. He talked about his childhood and said a lot of old memories have recently resurfaced.
People sometimes say that cancer turned out to be a blessing. We're not quite there yet, but it is a life altering experience. We are just getting started. It does put things into perspective though. I think we all tend to procrastinate with certain things because we take for granted that we'll have the time in the future. But, with or without cancer, nothing in life is guaranteed.
I keep playing back that visit to the ENT. We knew we were going to get the test results of the biopsy. We were both nervous, even though we never really discussed what the results might reveal. I had done my own Internet research, so I was already scared. I had actually read this exact thing because I had been looking up a possible diagnosis for one enlarged tonsil and a swollen lymph node on the same side. However, I kept telling myself that it was probably just some wicked infection. How do you prepare yourself for a cancer diagnosis? I'll never forget that day. I dropped off our 5 year old at preschool and met him at the doctor's office. We waited for a good 45 minutes for that appointment. I did pace in the waiting room. I told myself that it couldn't be bad news if they were making us wait that long. Al got into the exam chair and I stood up and leaned against the counter. I couldn't sit in the chair behind him. The doctor came in and first looked in his mouth. Then he said he wished he had good news. We both heard the word "cancer" loud and clear, but I had to have the nurse write down "squamous cell carcinoma" later that day for me when I picked up his CAT scan. The doctor did most of the talking. He did tell us that this isn't a death sentence. He said that he thought Al would do well considering he is young, strong and otherwise healthy. He also threw out some names of other facilities that deal with head and neck cancer. My head was spinning. After he finished talking, he asked us if we had any questions. That's when I just started crying. Al looked at me and said, "I'm sorry honey." I couldn't speak. We were escorted to the front to check out and go on with our day. Al went back to work. I couldn't get through to my mom, so I called my sister. My poor brother in law answered the phone to be the first one to hear this horrible news. That's if he could even understand me through all of the sobbing. It's weird, but I still went for my haircut and then picked up the kids from school. What are you gonna do?
It was 2 days later that we met with the oncologists at the local cancer treatment center. I was so scared to just enter that building. Yes, you see some sick people in there, but it's also a bit inspirational to see people bravely entering to get their treatment. Some older than Al, some younger. You can always identify the sick ones from their companions. They are often a grayish shade and look a bit weak. They still manage to smile at you as if to tell you it's going to be alright. You can also identify the newly diagnosed ones. Maybe my shaking and panicked look gave us away! The entire staff is so friendly and compassionate. Not like any other doctor's office. They must have some kind of training that goes far beyond medical training. Anyway, we met with a radiation oncologist and then with a medical oncologist. They were both very nice and encouraging. We really didn't have any questions for them until the following visit. Of course, I'm still jotting down questions for our next appointment. They did it make it very clear that this won't be easy. They told us that this particular type of cancer usually stays confined to the head and neck. It's also usually very receptive to treatment. However, treatment is very difficult on the patient because of the area that is being treated.
Al went for the PET scan last week and the doctors confirmed that the cancer is in the tonsil and lymph nodes. Luckily, it didn't show up anywhere else. He was fitted for the mask that will be used during radiation. They have to mark the areas to be radiated, while trying to spare the healthy parts. However, they warned us that healthy parts also get damaged in radiation. More blood was drawn. They are saying he is anemic and they need to find out what that is about before they begin treatment. We're going back on the 13th. He already saw the dentist and he won't need any work done before treatment begins. We are overloaded with information. There are prescriptions to fill. There seems to be a drug to counter act the side effects of every other drug. It is overwhelming. I'm just trying to stay organized.
Well, the kids are asking for waffles already. I need to get to the grocery store this morning. The refrigerator is empty. Guess I've had other stuff on my mind!