Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Quite the Ride

Every 8 weeks or so, my son goes for a CT scan.  The results of the scan will determine how well he is responding to the Chemo treatments that he receives every other Wednesday.

I have the date of the scans marked on my calendar.  My anxiety level rises a little each day as the date gets closer and closer. I play mind games with myself.   I go back and forth between trying to be as positive as possible to preparing myself for the worst-case scenario. This is what I call the emotional Cancer Roller Coaster Ride.  I've been on that ride way to often during my life and know it very well.  Don't we all?

While thinking about writing here today, I thought that perhaps it would be somewhat of a relief to express my feelings about the what if’s....

And then I thought I would rather write about what is.... what I know right now.

I know that today is the day Joe goes for his CT scan. I know that my anxiety level is almost at its peak. I know that I won't come down or calm down until we find out the results.  And I know that wishing and hoping will not change the results of today's test.

I know that my son is here today.  I know that he will kiss his son good-bye before he leaves to drive himself to go get the CT scan.  I know that after the scan, he will pick his son up from day care and take him home.  I know that the best part of the day for him will be the time he gets to spend with his wife and his son.  

I know that I will spend the day worrying but trying not to.  I will be on pins and needles waiting for the phone to ring.  That's the truth and that's the way it will be for me.  He is my son and he has cancer.

The test results last time were that the cancer was status quo. That is good news when dealing with stage IV.
When my son called me to tell me I was of course very relieved.   I wanted to know how he felt.
I said to him, "Joe, I know this may be a silly question, but do you get nervous waiting for the results of the CT scan?"
He said, "No, not really.  I don't think about it.  I get a little anxious when I am in the examining room waiting for the doctor to come in.  But before that I just don't think about it."

The way Joe handles his illness is inspiring.  He seems to have accepted that cancer is just part of his life now.

Going for his treatments every two weeks and CT scans every 8 weeks are just as normal to him as going to work every day, watching a Mets game with his wife or holding his son.

And even if it doesn't make a difference...

"Please, please, make it okay today"


  1. It is very hard, as humans, to not think about the what-ifs in life. And hoping for an outcome we truly cannot control. I often tell myself (as a thanatophobe, it is quite often) that I must live with what I know I have and not try to think up various situations and outcomes.... just deal with what we are dealt, not what we "may" be dealt.

    I will keep you and your son in my prayers.


  2. Thank you Cris for your hugs and prayers. They are both much appreciated.

  3. Thank you Cris for your hugs and prayers. They are both much appreciated.