Dog-Gone Options

It has been a long and crazy several days since I was able to last post. My computer has died, so I have put off blogging since I find it tedious and boring to do it with the I-PAD. Last week was a lot of fun....five days of Miss Utah events. Caroline did such a good job, it was great to watch her perform at the Capitol Theater. Shea was able to attend all of the nights and support her sister. It was wonderful to spend the family time together. We went as a family to Huntsman on Monday to begin the process for genetic testing. They promised me that we will know where everybody stands in the next three weeks....but since I've heard that one before, I am mildly skeptical that we will truly know within that time frame. We shall see LOL. On Wednesday, Shea met with her new team of doctors...her former physician has since moved to Oregon to set up practice there. They wanted to share with us all of the results of the tests that Shea took last Friday. They told us that there is a 21.62% reduction in the tumors in the liver and that the CEA markers are at 34. We are so thrilled with the news. Her doctor said that we will plan on four more chemo sessions and then we will be able to sit down and discuss options. Isn't that great? Options! This is the first time anyone has suggested that we have options. Since this battle with cancer began, we have just been trying to stay afloat, getting washed with the tide. I have had several people say to me "I don't know how you do it. I wouldn't be able to handle it". I try to remind them that no one asked me if I could handle it either....in an instant, it just became my reality. I was reading a book the other day and in it a young woman was talking about her diagnosis with cancer. She said she didn't tell anyone for a day or two, because once she shared the news, she knew she would never go back to where she once was. She would always be the one who had cancer and people would always look at her differently. I feel bad that Shea never had that opportunity to pretend to be normal for even a day or two. One of the hardest things for her to handle is when people look at her with pity and concern. She knows it is because they care, but it is still hard to be reminded that you are not 'normal'. I try to remind her that no one in her family is 'normal', and that brings a smile....yet, I can see what she means. It reminds me of a story my Mom tells about when she was on her mission. She was walking up and down some steep streets in Chile with her companion. It was cold and she was wearing a big coat. She told me that she and her companion passed a large, barking dog. It wasn't long after that she felt a tug on her coat. She swiped her hand behind her, but didn't feel anything, so she continued to walk. She thought she was getting old and tired since the climb up the streets seemed to get more difficult. They stopped and talked to several people, and it wasn't until they were ready to go into someone's house to talk that a person pointed out that she had a dog attached to her bottom. The barking dog had bit her on the butt and had refused to let go. She had walked up and down countless streets with a dog attached to her backside, and no one had bothered to say a thing. Maybe they didn't know what to say.....maybe they thought she knew.....maybe the whole situation seemed so absurd, they didn't want to bring it to her attention. Anyway, cancer is like that dog....it comes up, bites you on the butt, and then no one knows what to say or what not to say....me included. It is crazy, but true. And I feel like I have been dragging it around for way too long, but that dang thing just won't let go. It didn't ask if it was okay to latch on to my life....it just did. And the interesting thing for me is to listen to the "why's"of all of this happening...especially since Shea is so young. "it is God's will"...."it is her punishment for one of her action's"....."She is carrying the physical manifestation of the past mistakes of her ancestors"....and the crazy list goes on and on. I prefer to believe that it is what it is.....cancer....and it can come into any of our lives at any given time while we are walking nonchalantly up the street and bite us on the butt. So I am happy to have options. Options mean that there is more than one way to try to skin this cat (or dog, as the case may be). It means that we can make real decisions about what we think is best, instead of blindly treading water....hoping for a rescue. We still don't know if there will be a physical rescue, but we do know that there is a spiritual one....and we know that is the time that we will say "this is God's will"....but until then, we are going to savor the sweet news that in a few short weeks, we will have options. Hopefully, the 'dog' will let go of our butts and we can stop dragging it around. It would be nice to be 'normal' for awhile.