Tuesday, June 16, 2009

My third round of chemotherapy was scheduled for last Monday morning. It was my mom's first time to sit with me through the ordeal. I wouldn't wish the sitting and waiting part on anyone, mainly because I am unconscious for the whole thing and I make for pretty bad company. But my mother is an avid crocheter and is quite adept with an iPod....so we've yet to find anything she can't out sit or out wait.

So she could have probably waited forever for my doctor to finish with his first patient and do the pre-chemo exam, but after about an hour of waiting....I had to get dressed and reschedule or I'd miss the Huntsman Center again. It was then that the door to the other exam room opened and I noticed something was wrong. There were way more people than normal in there, and as the doctor walked out, he didn't look up. Soon, the woman whom I'd shared the chemo room with the past few weeks, along with her family, were ushered passed me. Uncontrollably sobbing and shaking she was surprisingly guided to her regular chair and prepped for a round of chemo.

Obviously, she got some pretty hard news that morning. I thought about her all day. I don't know what they told her and I don't know anything about chemotherapy regiments...but I do wonder if I'd have sat down for another dose right then and there after getting such disturbing news or if I'd have bagged the whole thing and found another, more self-indulgent way to spend my day. It just didn't seem fair. What would you do?????

"Fairness gets temporarily traded in for individually needed experiences." Neil A. Maxwell

Meanwhile, up at the Huntsman Center they decided to submit my case to the "Tumor Board". This will give all their specialists a chance to review and discuss my case together at a meeting on June 18th. Should I order a pizza for them? It sure feels like a party to me!


  1. That all seems so horrifying. I am so sorry you have to go through all this... I love you.

  2. I don't know what to say other than, "I Love You and I am praying that you have the strength you need."

    Ps. Looking at the time this was posted made me laugh..another sleepless night hu? I am starting to think your sleeping habits sound like those of a newborn baby.

  3. i think about you every day rose! i'm glad the "tumor board" is going to look at your case, that is great, i hope it leads to you getting the best possible treatment available. jenny

  4. Pat Leese is coming to Utah next week. I mentioned you and she asked for your contact info. Ok if I give it to her? I think it would be a positive visit for you. Let me know. I check your blog more frequently than I do my kid's blogs. So anxious for news of you. Thanks for giving us this means of keeping in touch. Hoping to see you in august. Coming out for Katie's graduation. Love to all. Congradulations on Nick's ordination. - Karen

  5. My family loves you Rosemary. I hope things go well with the "Tumor Board." (I don't think that sentence can ever sound good, no matter how much good karma you put into it...)

    If you ever want to talk on one of your sleepless nights, I'm usually already up...


  6. I'm listening to "The Hairbrush Song" and love your sense of humor.

  7. Don't ever worry about entertaining the person who takes you to chemo! We fight over the privilege of taking our friend with IBC! First of all, there's the adorable oncologist! But more importantly, it becomes forced downtime for us and is actually very relaxing. I usually bring my laptop or knitting or a book. We usually end up chatting with other patients.

    It is truly a privilege!