Today I saw the oncologist again. He is sending me over to the radiation oncologist (RO) on Friday. Then she’ll work up a treatment regimen, if she decides to treat me.
Dr. F’s nurse said my Blood Pressure was 140/82 today. Well, yes, I get scared when I’m in there. Normally, I have great BP, and despite the fact that the facility has a nice, calm, clean vibe, it’s still where you go to get poisoned and fried. It’s pretty hard NOT to react somewhat negatively under the circumstances.
Interestingly, Dr. F says he’d start chemo the same day Dr. T (RO) starts radiation therapy, if she decides to treat me. I didn’t really comprehend that statement until now. Why would she NOT want to treat me? But guess what? I’m not going to think about that right now. And why? Because the whole ‘feeding tube’ topic came up again.
I love to cook; and with it, I love to eat. However I can do without eating if it means I have a chance to live. But cooking, for me, is another of those creative outlets. Ironically, it was following my mastectomy and reconstruction surgery, that I found The Food Network. Holy moley, a whole network about cooking! I was in heaven, so although I wasn’t in any shape to cook or eat much at that time, I filed all the fascinating information I was acquiring into my brain for future reference.
When I was a teenager, I convinced my parents that Sunday would be my day to cook. Oh, there was no telling WHAT would end up on our Sunday table. I did curries, I cooked a leg of lamb, I made Moussaka, my green chili chicken enchiladas, and a memorable Paella. It was so much fun, experimenting and learning and my family, who came together for those Sunday dinners, (brothers, sisters, in-laws, nieces and nephews, etc.) seemed to be happy about it.
So, yeah, I got a little morose about the subject of the feeding tube, but as my friend Paul always tells me, ‘This too shall pass.” I think it’s biblical. ;)