Choo Choo

Having cancer is like riding a freight train. You hop on and hang on for dear life. Literally. Else, the train will mow you down. It moves at the speed of light.

This cancer thing has happened really really fast. Head spinningly fast. I vaguely remember having a life. A good one. Now, it all revolves around cancer and I can't seem to focus on anything else.

I often feel I'm on a train that doesn't slow or stop on request. Or at all. I don't schedule my appointments or surgeries. They do. No one asks "when would you like to come in to get started on that chemo"? Or "Is next Monday convenient for your mastectomy"? Instead, they call and TELL me where to be and when.

I suppose doctors assume that you'll jump and obey when you have a serious illness. And they're right. Any where, any time. Just tell me when you want me there, and I'll be there. Ten minutes early. With a friend in tow. Or two.

I have control over very few things these days. Patients like me enjoy thinking they are proactive and in control over what happens and when. But really we're not.

I have input into my treatment. I guess I do, in a way. But if my oncologist tells me I need this sort of chemo treatment followed by this, this, and this....my likely response will be "OK". Whatever you say.

I'm fairly well educated on this thing. I've read about it until I can't read about it any more. So I already have a pretty good idea of which treatment protocols are on the table. By the time a doctor makes a recommendation, I know what the options are. The option recommended makes perfect sense. Maybe that's why I'm so quick on my "OKs". I already know.