overwhelmed

I realized today that I am overwhelmed with information about my mom’s cancer – and maybe it still hasn’t sunk in. I’m going through the motions, but I’m already in a fog. That familiar fog that I went into when my dad got sick. It took me a long time to climb out of that fog…and here I go again. I don’t want to be in a fog. I don’t want this fight with cancer to go the same way. It won’t. It can’t. But what if it does? Holy shit. I’m scared out of my mind. My sister had a panic attack when we were at the oncologist’s office Friday. I’m surprised I didn’t have one too. When do I get to have mine?

Things we know: stage three. That’s bad – it only goes to four. Shit. Spindle cell malignancy. Sarcomatoid carcinoma or sarcomatoid breast cancer. We don’t know yet. No clue what the difference is. The tumor is 7.5 x 6 centimeters big. That’s like a tennis ball. Chemo for sure, surgery for sure. Mastectomy. Major surgery, more time to heal, more chances of something going wrong. No visibly swollen lymph nodes, but it’s very likely that there are tumors in the lymph nodes. Shit, shit, shit. Doctor says without chemo, there’s a 40% cure rate for this cancer. It improves dramatically with chemo treatments. What?!?!?!? That sucks! That’s not good enough for me. I want 100% cure rate.

Next steps: blood work, PET scans and CT scans to be sure it’s limited to her breast. Please, God. Chemo will start in the next few weeks and will happen about every two weeks. I don’t like this…I don’t like any of this. Can my mom tell how freaked out I am? I hope not.