Insult, Meet Injury

May 21, 2010 at 10:16 PM (Energy, Mood, Treatment) (, , , , , )

I think I’ve been pretty reasonable during this hideous process. I’ve accommodated last-minute schedule changes, long-term expectation rearrangements, physical limitations, radical downgrades in physical appearance. I’ve taken it all on, maybe not smiling but resigned, and kept on going, because, really, what choice do I have?

Consider the camel’s back broken. Wednesday’s CT bad news led to this afternoon’s phone call from the clinical trial coordinator for my PI3K trial, and after a little dithering back and forth, she said that my onc wants me to start on the 21st of June. And the joys of clinical trials include really frequent office visits, which will start on the 21st and continue for the 22nd, 23rd, 24th, and 28th of June.

Astute readers (Cheesesteak) will note that that coincides with my not-widely-broadcast trip to Washington for a First Descents kayaking trip. I was really, really, really excited for this adventure; it’s totally unlike me to take on a physical challenge of this nature, and I was beyond excited to meet and make friends with the other under-40 cancer survivors on the trip. Alumni tend to refer to their “FD Families”, and I want one.

But I have to cancel. (I keep writing “cancer” – damn you, Freud.)

A quick email check-in showed that they have no other kayaking spots available for this year, although they could put me on the wait-list. I might be able to get a spot on a climbing trip in September.

Right now I’m so hopped up I can’t even conceive of this change. I booked plane tickets; bought an inordinate amount of the suggested “non-cotton” clothing. Was making peace with the fact that I’ll probably end up upside-down under my kayak and hoping I’ll have the wherewithal not to drown. I WAS EXCITED.

This is really over the top. I’ve been good; I’ve taken my lumps and (mostly) not complained. I’ve missed events, given up hope of starting a meaningful career; foregone chaperoning field trips. Gotten used to looking at the middle-aged lady who lives in my bathroom mirror, and the fact that she can’t wear high heels for more than thirty minutes. Accepted that my left leg is a whole pants size larger than my right. I’ve abandoned plans for a 5k, or the thought of becoming a decent tennis player. But I wanted cancer to give me something for all the stuff it’s taken away, and I thought that five days of kayaking and bonding with other like-minded cancer ass-kickers was an appropriate and reasonable expectation.

Apparently not.

Photo courtesy

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  1. Melissa said,

    Hi S,

    I’m really sorry to read your news. I hope you’ll get on the waiting list for another trip; maybe it will lead to an unexpectedly good surprise later this year. -Melissa

  2. Nina the slackmistress said,

    I don’t know what to say but I wanted to say something. Fuck cancer.


  3. pateeta said,

    I don’t even know what to say, except holy shit balls, Batman. Come on out to Arizona and I’ll take you tubing down the river (as soon as I’m allowed in the water- July, maybe?)
    Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.


  4. Jennifer said,

    SUCKS! I say take up the offer to go to Arizona & get in water sports that way, and find other kick-ass survivors at the OMG summit this weekend and in other ways. Sometimes we need organized groups to help us through, so how about make your own? We have kayaking & cancer survivors in GA… luv ya!

  5. Patricia said,

    Cancer f-ing blows!! Sorry you have to put yet ANOTHER thing on hold while you put on your battle gear, AGAIN!! I like Melissa’s idea of all of this leading to an “unexpectedly good surprise” … Faith, hope & love! Keeping you in my prayers and thoughts, as always.. xx’s, patricia

  6. Jane said,

    Suck, suck, suck city. I hope you’ll be able to make that trip sometime down the road, or do something equally cool.

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