Yesterday I found myself cradling my phone to my ear with my shoulder so that I could use both hands to get my big bike off the metro north train in pleasantville, straining to hear what the doc was saying while smiling and pointing (what hand had I found for that?) at my phone shrugging my free shoulder, smiling at a dancer I’d known years ago who inexplicably appeared on the platform when the doors opened.. “Oxaliplatin, yes.. never irinitican.. ” Suddenly, a lot was happening at once.
A minute or so earlier, I’d finally gotten a call from my doc.
“Mr. Caldwell. It’s Doctor H. Can you talk?”
“Yup. Sure. I’m on the train, but my stop is coming right up, so I’ll be able to hear a lot better in a moment.”
“Well. I’ve got your petscan results, and I’m afraid that I have some bad news.”
“You’ve got a couple of spots on your liver. And one on your lung.. and one on your mesentary..”
“Mesentary.. It’s connective tissue around the…” The train got loud. I couldn’t hear..
“So pretty much all over the place?”
“Well. We’re not really sure about the spot on your lung, that might be inflammation of some sort, but the other ones I feel quite certain are related to the original tumor.”
He offered me chemo on the spot. I told him that I wasn’t very inclined to accept. That we’d have to discuss it.
We’re trying to work out an appointment for friday morning. Hopefully we’ll get a lot more information then.
You know about what I do now. Stage IV cancer, hanging tough.
I’m resisting the urge to speculate. But this is pretty bad news, indeed.
Today I’ll go play pool. It’s wednesday.