Today has been bittersweet. Talked to a few friends today about everything that’s going on, but waiting for the local oncologist who will be handling my day-to-day stuff to get back to me regarding starting chemotherapy. The doctor in charge of my care up at the Mayo Clinic in MN (Dr. M.) talked to him yesterday but I have yet to hear from him, and I’m antsy about it. She emailed me yesterday that they got along great but that he preferred another cocktail of drugs to what she recommended … Dr. M. at the MC thinks I should start chemotherapy with CyBorD (cyclophosphamide, bortezomib/Velcade, dexamethasone) while apparently Dr. F. here locally is going to make a case for VRD (bortezomib/Velcade, Revlimid, dexamethasone).
Dr. M. had noted in our visit with her that given almost equal success rates with either treatment, that she’d rather save Revlimid (the big and newest “gun” in the MM arsenal) in her back pocket for later down the road. That makes sense to me. Either way I woke up at 3 am last night and the first thought that entered my head was how to deal with this discussion and I didn’t get back to sleep the rest of the night. I’m sure it will go well but having never dealt with referrals and all this, and being wired to not want to step on people’s toes, I’m just anxious about it.
Anxious about not hearing from him yet either. Not like I’m all psyched up to start chemotherapy, but I would let to get this show on the road now that the thinking, meeting and testing is mostly done.
We had the pugs put down yesterday which has been difficult for Amy — one of her friends came over for the day at my request, and I’m hoping her good mood carries through the rest of this week as things get a bit more serious. As infirm as they were right now she just felt it was time, which I understand but didn’t make it any easier. I took care of it with my dad’s help.
One of the harder things about something this traumatizing is the immensely wild swings in emotions that just slam into you like a car accident — at least so far there’s no smooth, predictable emotional wave whatsoever. Knowing that, and knowing we’re not even into the meat of all of this yet, makes it tough to fully engage in life right now, if that makes sense, sort of like holding onto the side of the boat on perfect seas for no apparent reason but doing so because at any moment you expect a huge wave to hit. I’ve been nailed a few times out of the blue just sitting at my desk and I’ll think of Ariana, or see someones kid doing something on Facebook, and just brutal waves of despair overwhelm me. Kind of nerve-wracking, to say the least.
Have an appointment with a therapist this week that I did a consult with last week. Never been a giant fan of the concept, but I fully recognize that I am just not mentally and emotionally equipped to deal with what’s coming. Hoping she can give me at least some tools to cope with it all.