"You have stage 3."
I hear the words the oncologist speaks to my husband, and I wish he were referring to a venue where we will be performing....doing a song and dance (not that we CAN sing and dance) on Stage 3 at the Lincoln Lincoln Theater, or some other theater. But no, that's not what the oncologist has on his mind.
Stage 3 of cancer means not only was there a tumor, but lymph nodes are involved. Although twenty-one lymph nodes were removed as part of the surgery, of which only two were affected, treatment with chemotherapy is recommended. We get to choose; the most aggressive approach involves chemotherapy infusion intravenously, or tablets taken 3 times per day--less invasive, but also, less effective.
Naturally we elect to go with the most aggressive form of treatment. There are too many things we still want to do, too many places in the country we haven't visited. But that choice means we won't be going on any trips for a while. Our travels will be limited to the doctor's office for chemo treatments, starting in June--4 or 5 times per week for 2 weeks at a time, with a week's reprieve, and then two weeks again with the ritual continuing for 12 weeks.
We will conquer the demon. We must. We have places to go, people to see, grandchildren to enjoy. We are up to the battle. We will endure. We will prevail. We have overcome many challenges in our nearly 28 years of marriage; this hurdle, perhaps the most challenging yet, will be no match for our determination and tenacity.
Mr. Eva was discharged from the hospital on Sunday--two to four days earlier than the surgeon anticipated. His grit and determination are surfacing already.
Again, many thanks for the kind words and support my cyber-friends. I love and appreciate you all.
I will resume normal posting, although I don't know if I will be posting daily right away. It depends on how busy the medical schedule gets.
If this post is confusing to you, it's probably because you missed my last one. Feel free to scroll down and get caught up!