Humbly Grateful

This morning, for the second morning in a row, my email inbox had notice of a donation to my cancer fund. I have not been willing to broadcast the fact I am in need in this way, and reluctantly allowed a couple of friends to research and develop a means to collect financial help.  Those close to me with whom I talk know that I am unemployed, cannot even accept a new job right now due to treatment, and that I am rapidly depleting all resources available. It is a rare time in my life when I have zero income. The medical bills have started to arrive and because of the insurance policies, I know that I can anticipate ~$10,000 my share of costs. The weekly Vitamin C infusions require full payment on the spot. This is my disclosure on this very, very touchy & would-be private matter. Any and all funds that those reading my blog contribute will transfer from Paypal to my bank account and will then be used to immediately pay the medical bills. The news of a donation has "made my day" and had lingering positive impact each time it has occurred. I graciously hope that each donor takes pride in helping me through this difficult time and realizes that I am heart-on-sleeve touched by the generosity. Each person who has contributed should also note: you invested wisely....because...if you did not read yesterday's post: my CA 125 level is now in the normal range! The chemo is working! The Cancer Antigen for Ovarian Cancer has diminished...from the high of 583 in November 2012, when I first learned I was hosting ovarian cancer (why give bold capital letters to something of diminishing significance?!). After the surgery, when all visible tumors were successfully removed, the number was 123. After the first round of chemo, the number was 90. And yesterday, after the second round of chemo, the number is 7.9! That number is in the normal range. That dynamite news brings me great joy. My intention to survive stage four ovarian cancer is looking mighty doable. Phew. And Hallelujah!

So what did I do today? The day after learning such grand news? I had a long conversation with a friend in Humboldt who phoned me this morning; our last talk had been in December. I relaxed through the remainder of the day. I left my nightgown on and put my red robe over it. I wore a knitted cap. I ate healthily. I read. I allowed myself to rest because I know I have been overdoing it and have felt fatigued and worse. I am gearing up for the third round of chemo next Tuesday and I want to go into it rested, hydrated and mentally prepared knowing it is at the least the midway point of the treatment milieu established by the oncologist. I am hopeful that after the PET scan scheduled for April 16, we may rethink the treatment schedule and forego at least the sixth or last round of the very strong chemo combo I am infused with. If there are no signs of tumors via PET scan and the markers, such as the CA 125 are all within normal range, I reckon there is a possibility of cutting the chemo short for success. That is how I am thinking, although I have not had such a conversation with the oncologist. To be revealed...or tbr...as I say.

If you are new to reading my blog, please know I welcome comments and questions. I began blogging after the surgery...just as chemo began, but I have an entry here that gives a historical overview. I think it is a useful thing to write about the process of eliminating a potentially deadly disease from one's body. Since writing is therapeutic and I have enjoyed doing so since I was a kid, this is a way I can document my story, keep those interested abreast of what it is like, how I feel, the ups and downs, my progress, etc., while giving myself a self-help outlet. Uh oh...please let me know if those words just compelled you to opt away! Seriously, please reach out to me and let me know you are there. My friendships are of paramount importance.