Check the Box

The fragile shell of hope cracked a little yesterday. It happened at the St. Joseph Hospital's Cancer Center where I had an appointment with the radiologist to discuss my PET Scan and what steps to be taken next. I had to check in a half hour early to fill out papers, and to be given Information For New Patients: New Patient orientation, Your Patient Rights, Advance Directives, Billing Information, Patient Consent. Then I had to sign my name and initial each item to verify that I had received them. I have had to do this before and no doubt will be required to do so many more times. It is the law, and supposedly for my protection. I was asked to rate my anxiety level from 0 to 10, indicate what concerns I may have by checking the appropriate box. And maybe that is how I began to feel, like I was no longer Morningstar but rather a “Cancer Patient.” Check the box. Later the Cancer Support Coordinator, with an appropriately sensitive and caring manner, asked about spiritual preferences, and family support network. She handed me a treatment notebook, and additional resource material about support groups, meditation class, the availability of massages, athletic club access, list of internet cancer websites, and information that a beauty workshop for cancer patients, “Look Good… Feel Better,” was scheduled for July 14th. Yes, I am far from my life off the beaten path. I have been hurtled onto the super highway called CANCER.

The doctor we met with had long blond hair and a big smile. All the appropriate framed credentials hung on his wall. He took my blood pressure (a little high), listened to me breathe with his stethoscope, and then showed and explained to us my PET scan images. We had been told several days ago that the cancer was contained within the chest wall, that there were no signs of cancer visible anywhere else in my body. Now we heard that there is one anomaly that had shown up… in the pelvic bone. I would have to have another biopsy (scheduled for next Wednesday). If it is malignant, the treatment goal would change from “cure” to “extended time.” I felt like a boxer who has shown up in the ring ready to fight, but the fight has been canceled. It is much too early to feel that way. There are questions to be answered, options to be weighed. Today is another day. We must find a place to live other than in motel rooms or with friends.

... PLM