Photo: stony plain, alberta (my parent’s farm), december 2009

Yes, the other one. No, not Cancer. No, not the 4-letter delight. But that one; yes, the other one.

Chemotherapy.

From the moment I found the lump in June, I knew I had a battle ahead. I held out hope and poured positive-energy into manifesting a good result, a less serious result. But, as I’ve mentioned before, the flicker of fear was present and I knew it was fuelled by something other than my own thoughts.

I’m working through all of this now. The emotions (a river of tears), the logistics (arranging a network of friends to drive to the many appointments) and the practical (cut my hair? save my hair for a wig? wear hats and scarves only?), and then there is what work-chemo balance might look like.

For now, it’s enough to know that the results of my Oncotype test came back with a high number. A high score is bad. A high score on this test means that the cancerous cells that were removed are over-achievers. The analysis of the cells scraped my chest say that I’m likely to have a recurrence, and that the cancer could spread quickly.

Fight fire with fire. I opted for an aggressive approach. 16-weeks of chemotherapy given in 2-week cycles. I begin next week, possibly on December 23rd.

I feel less able to find a silver lining right now, but I know I’ll get there. I mean, how many people can say they have a very good friend who also happens to be a wig artist (on top of being a jewellery-maker and metalworker). That seems like silver on more than one account.