Right now I am on a flight to California to spend the weekend with some long time friends. I have known one since I was 4 or 5. So let's just say it's our 30th anniversary of friendship trip! Pretty incredible when you think about it. Him and his wife saw that I wanted to go to Sea World/San Diego before my 35th birthday so they were kind enough to use their flight points to get me there and do hotel and car. Seriously so generous. We were supposed to go in October of last year, but surgery and treatment got in the way of that. This time we were able to plan a time quickly and I'm so thankful that cancer isn't getting in the way this time. I have my sun hats and sunscreen ready for all the adventures! I'm also so happy I have my appetite back AND have been cleared to have some adult beverages; or as my nurse said "you have some room in your liver for some alcohol!" Thank you, liver! Champagne brunch just isn't as fun without the champagne!
My best friend is going to try and come down for one of the days, as well as another good friend. Looks like a great weekend to be had!
As I am sitting here on the flight (and as I was getting ready for travel, etc) I just keep thinking of how different things were just only a few months ago. I was in intense pain, couldn't sit in one spot for long, couldn't bend over to the ground, couldn't lift much; just so cautious of every movement. Now here I am, sitting for hours at a time, able to carry my carryon (and put it in the overhead bin!) able to grab my bag from the ground as well as baggage claim. Able to taste the drink I got on the plane. All while not being on any pain pills or patch. The body is an impressive thing I'll tell you. But I'd really like it if it would quit growing f'n tumors. Especially on my neck.
My mind does wander on to think of what the next month will bring. None of it looks good; all of the options are hard. I'm thinking I will be having a surgery soon, but of course nothing is to planned on in this cancer road. Radiation. Damn radiation... a trial? Injections? Right now I have no idea. Won't know more until weds. I've gotten used to the waiting game. Doesn't mean it's easier, but at least I know that it's part of the game. Maybe game isn't the best description of it. It's something though.
On my first flight today I sat by two lovely girls. We talked and joked about the conversation going on behind us (which was oh so entertaining!) and then I had to answer the question "so what do you do?" I've become use to the reaction I get when I say that I don't work right now and that I have cancer. I quickly follow up with something saying "but I do try and work when I can!" Or something that isn't so Debby downer. I don't want the pity eyes, and since I look healthier these days the pity look doesn't linger as long. You then gauge whether or not the ppl are comfortable with the subject or avoiding it. These girls were good and I could tell they were interested but didn't really know how to continue on. I brought it up later in the flight and we talked a bit and I got my PSA message in (or what feels like a PSA speech some days) but it's when you say "stage IV" or "it's in multiple organs" or "I had a feeding tube recently" that they are usually a little shocked. And that's when I realize how weird the cancer life is. Also how lucky I am to not look as sick as I truly am. All that said, it was a very enjoyable flight with these ladies.
So, San Diego and fun here I come!On my