Thursday, 19 March 2009
I have phoned everyone.
The surgeon can operate in two weeks, 1 April, so I'll be back in the hospital on 31 March.
My oncologist says "Fine. No problem."
"But it's another 2 weeks," I say.
"Nothing can happen in 2 weeks," she says.
" But that makes 8 weeks since my last chemo," I say.
"But if you have another chemo session, you won't be able to be operated on for another [whatever] weeks," she says.
I am unconvinced, but we agree I will have another slew of blood tests because they didn't test the marker when I was in the hospital. The nurse is coming tomorrow morning.
Then I called my GP. She sounds, also, not at all worried. "But I am worried!" I say.
"Don't worry," she says.
At least I will get to go to the Foire de Lyon and look at furniture (on the 30th). Meanwhile, I'll have to sign a power of attorney, so that Nick can sign for the house, if the papers are ready before I am conscious. But I have had to postpone a friend's visit. And my mother-in-law's visit. (My mother-in-law is nice.) Hmmmmph!
This morning I walked the dogs as far as the little field beyond the fire station. I decided to give it a shot and ran the circumference. Probably a hot 100 metres, but it was something.
Tell me: If I try to get some exercise in the next couple of weeks to strengthen myself before surgery, will that also make the cancer cells more active and inclined to spread?
Having good health is hard.