Conquering Cancer in the time of Covid
Proving Einstein’s Theory of Relativity
#2: Praying for Stage 3 Cancer
November 18, 2020
Dearest Friends and Family,
First, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the thoughtful messages of love and support you have sent me. It’s been the best medicine possible at this time. If there can possibly be a silver lining right now for me, it’s been that I feel surrounded by so many people who truly do care for and about me. This is kind of perverse, but I’ve often thought that we should have our funeral services before we die so we can hear all the nice things people say about us. I sort of feel like that has happened for me this week as so many friends have reached out with kindness and compassion. I’m generally socially insecure, so this has been doubly meaningful.
Here’s the second chapter of this alternate reality horror film in which I unwittingly find myself in the lead role. Since my first email, I’ve met the oncologist and had a Pet/CT scan. The oncologist is perfect. Hubby and I already love him. He is a referral from my guardian angel, my sister. He explained every detail of my pathology report and gave us reason to be optimistic. My cancer has a very high rate of reproduction — that’s the bad news and why it grew so big so fast. But it’s also young — that’s the good news because it still has very strong receptors to hormones for treatments to be effective. The remaining question was whether or not it had yet spread through my body. That last question has been truly terrifying.
Today, I’m proving Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. On Friday, my diagnosis of stage 3 breast cancer was devastating, earth shattering. Last night, as I started glowing from an infusion of radioactive glucose for my Pet/CT scan, to check for metastatic disease, I was praying for stage 3 cancer. In what part of the universe does anyone ever pray to have stage 3 cancer? Many of you prayed for it with me. Did that feel as weird for you as it did for me? Fortunately, my new best friend, Xanax, was with me the whole time and even stayed long enough for a sleep over date so I could get more than 3 hours rest.
Well, our prayers were granted. I heard from the oncologist this am that there’s no evidence of spread in either the Pet/CT or the blood work that also looked for markers. Today, stage 3 cancer is cause for celebration. See? It’s all relative. I’m told through my Dr/Family grapevine that my oncologist seems very upbeat and thinks my prognosis is excellent. I’m going with that for now. ‘Excellent’ is a very friendly word. I still have a big battle in front of me. At a minimum, I’ll need chemo and an assortment of pills, more surgery, maybe a clinical trial. But it looks like my weapons might be strong enough to defeat this enemy or at least keep it at bay until better weapons come through the pipeline. I’ll know more tomorrow about next steps and the battle plan.
Again, deepest appreciation for your love and support and all the strength you’ve been sending my way. Please don’t stop! I’ll keep you posted. It’s one way I can try to keep my sanity LOL.
Xoxoxo
Jill
