Wednesday, April 05, 2006

One week

In one week, I go see my local oncologist, who I've been calling Dr. Great and Powerful Oz. This is because it's hard to get in to see him, not because he has a giant green head or anything.

It would be cool if he did, though.

Godcella had better not be awake and messing around in there. Back in the Olden Days, when my sister and I would be messing around upstairs at bedtime, our dad would stand at the bottom of the stairs and call out, "Now, kiiiiiiiids. It is ten o'clock (dramatic pause) AT. NIGHT." I imagine myself using the same tone of voice:

"Now cellllllllls. You'd better not be multiplying in there. Stop jumping up and down on my bone marrow and GO. TO. BED."

Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear.


John Wagner said...

Test time is always filled with uncertainty and the nerves rev up. Whip those little suckers into submission!

Karen's sister said...

Do you ever feel like you're fighting a war on two fronts? One is the war against the Godcellas, and the other one is against nerves and a wild imagination? I guess there's not much to be done about the first front (though my cells, should you ever need them, are amassed along the borders and prepared for D-Day).

But is there anything we can do to help with the second one? (and I think any of the folks who post on here who have experience with cancer can answer to this one) Its always so annoying when I'm worried about something and all people can say is, "Don't worry about it" or "don't get all worked up, it will resolve itself." To me, such statements just make things worse, because then I worry about worrying too much!

In general, I'm a "do-er" type of person who always likes to go-go-go, and solve-solve-solve. I am however, at a complete and total loss when my sister has a potentially fatal disease. So what can be done to ease those tense moments? Suggestions? Ideas?

Mom said...

I've never told anyone this...but after I was diagnosed with heart failure and told that the damaged parts of my heart would never function again, I mentally went to war. I imagined that the cells in my body's natural repair/immune system looked like the little Scrubbing Bubble guys, complete with tools, hardhats,ladders and scaffoldings. They scoured my heart and blood vessels doing the repairs and washing away the damage. In my case, I was fortunate that it turned out to be a positive support to my very powerful medicines. It gave me a sense of optimism and control which is what I think really helps in the long run.

Show Godcella picture of your mom with huge hair in the 1980's. That will scare the beasties away!

Grandma sends a BIG HUG to WCB.