I have a date...

I make no apologies for this post.  <edit> It is hard for me to write these posts.  When I first started this post, I was full of anger.  Then, a couple hours later while I was still writing this post, I got an email.  That email diffused me.  Every day is like this.  Anger and then something wonderful will happen.  Sustaining rage is, I find, a very hard thing to do. So I'll let this post stand.  Swear words and all. 

April 24th I go in for surgery.  0530 in the morning.  I am the first and only case the Dr Pollock will do that day.  Five to six hours of surgery.  I will wake up (hopefully) with an ileostomy and a foley catheter along with a nice big surgical incision.  Don't know what those are?  Click on the words at your own risk.

This is the part that makes me so god damn angry about this.  I feel fine right now.  Aches and pains along with some bowel issues but I am getting better every day.  I feel almost normal at times.  By April 24th, if I keep getting healthier, I will feel absolutely normal.  Then I go and get all screwed up by the surgery.  Six weeks of recovery.  SIX WEEKS!!  Then I get six months of having the ileostomy and undergoing chemo at the same time.  Oh I know, I will feel better eventually.  The doctors are saying 18 months after my surgery I will be at my new normal.  My new normal.  I fucking hate this cancer.  FUCKING HATE IT!!!!

I would be lying if I was to say that I have not entertained the thought of not doing the surgery.  Some people do that.  Get the chemo and radiation and then skip surgery.  Some people also have the cancer come back.  And when it does come back, it is like the Six Million Dollar Man.  Better, stronger, faster...

I am exhausted by this.  Drained from worrying, drained from trying to put on a brave face, drained from keeping the fear at bay.  As the date gets closer, I wonder how I can keep this up.

I really thought that after I got the surgery date I would feel better.  Being on the path the wellness and all that happy crappy.  Nope.  I am full of anger and fear.  More anger than anything else.  This is the kicker though.  When I saw Dr Pollock for the initial consult, I got some good news.  I had to do yet another rectal exam  first with the finger (my surgeon is a large man with big fingers...) and then a sigmoidscope.  They injected air into my bowel so he could see.  It hurts.  They have a metal bar you hang onto while they do this.  They offer you a stick to bit on.  I am not kidding.  Anyway, he couldn't see the tumor.  It is gone.  There is an area that looks like an ulcer and it is healing.  So I had good response to the radiation and the chemo.  This was just a quick exam.  I have the really test to see how well I responded to the treatment in 4 weeks or so. Good news right?  I should be jumping for joy right?  Not really.  I am haunted by this specter of surgery.  I cannot shake it.  And it is only getting closer.

In the end though, this is how am I getting by in my day to day.   Love from friends and family.

As I was writing this blog full of anger and hate, I got this email from my good friend Eric.  His wonderful daughter drew this.  And I feel better.

This is me.  I look good.  Healthy and the sun is out.  Grass looks cut and the flowers are HUGE!  Just the way I like them.  Thanks to Cora for drawing this for me.  I LOVE it!

I hang out with these two creatures and I feel better.

Had dinner with Jugurtha, Samira and the little critter standing on the table.  And that made me feel better.

I got a hug from a friend I haven't seen in awhile and I feel better.

I couldn't do this without my family and friends.  And I suppose that is how I will get through this.  Drag all of you through this with me.  For that, I love ya!