Oops. Sudden Update: We Got the News :(

Not five minutes after I posted he blog, Wake Forest called me.

I could tell from her voice that it was bad news. She talked in a low register, and sounded like she was giving condolence in a funeral home. If I hadn't been bummed out, her tone of voice would have helped me bog right down!

Yes, it's a return of the bladder cancer. And the node is wedged into the spot where the aorta parts ways with the other big blood vessel coming right out of the heart. So a pretty dangerous spot.

She said they will call back soon with an appointment time so we can discuss options with Dr. Thomas, the backwards-walking non-socialized new doctor who looks like this. A lot.

Then we will know treatment options. I pushed a little to get her to list the options. She seemed to say she thought they would try chemo first and see if it shrinks it. That's good. It happens in Boone!

I'd read everything from open heart surgery to radiation to needle ablation but its precarious location is going to create a little challenge.

And I'm going to push for a whole-body PET scan, despite Medicare cutbacks, to see where this little bladder cancer colony was hiding out during all the surgeries and chemo and all the clear scans. WHERE WAS IT HIDING? No one has checked his head or bones. Those are known hiding places for cancer cells because the body blocks chemo from getting into the brain and the bone marrow. He doesn't have a bladder, so it was hiding SOMEwhere, because it is bladder cancer on his artery.The cells were definitively bladder cancer cells by his heart now.

Yes, it's weird to learn that, even without a bladder, bladder cancer keeps turning up. You don't have aorta cancer or liver cancer. You have bladder cancer on your aorta or liver. Weird!

After I took the call, he knew something was up. He was on the other side of the house, but he heard the phone ring. Then he heard me not talking at all. He goes, "Beth, come out here. What just happened? It's bad news. I already know."

I said, "You want me to tell you now or tomorrow and go out to Outback tonight?"

He said, "Now." 

So I emphasized how blessed we were that it was only bladder cancer cells, not NEW kinds of cancer, like lung or colon, which would have given him TWO kinds of cancers to fight.

He didn't seem cheered up. I said, "Want a hug?" He said, "Yeah," but after 10 seconds, he was done hugging. He said, "Just go to the store. I'm going to keep grading these papers and handle this my own way."

So I went to the store, but even though I seemed calm on the outside, I forgot my prescription glasses, forgot my seat belt, couldn't remember what color the traffic lights meant, like is red stop or go? Got lost in the store. Was shaking all over. It's weird how bifurcated the mind is. Part of you is, "Cool. I can handle this." And part of you doesn't even know what colors mean on traffic lights.

I expect to know more tomorrow and will post instantly.

Thanks for caring about us. Don't grieve or feel too sorry for us. We did expect this, and it is the very BEST possible version of a cancer return that we could have hoped for. Plus, if the treatment is in Boone, it's just gravy.

PLUS, he only has 3 more classes to teach, so could the timing have been better?

Till later, my beloved friends. Remember: no pity! We are used to this, and we are experienced, and we are Hoover Damming our pain and eeking it out in manageable little drops so we are NOT feeling overwhelmed.

We love you for loving us through it though. I swear. We love you so much.

Till next update.

B&B