I refuse

I actually have my “-ist’s” as my favorites in my phone: my oncologist, my cardiologist and my podiatrist.

My oncologist and my cardiologist operate in STAT mode most of the time: cancer and heart problems can quickly snowball so their offices absorb tons of calls and impromptu visits.  Podiatrists do not operate in STAT mode.  Podiatrists don’t have a lot of emergencies, so my podiatrist has added an asterisk in my chart: if I call, his staff are to get me in STAT.  I do love that about my doctors.  STAT.  Once again, I’m special.

I’ve had a bunch of nail problems over the past two and a half years.  This often happens to chemo patients, but for some reasons all of my problems have concentrated in my toes and fingers.  Since I’m well-versed in the other possible side-effects of cancer/chemo, I feel pretty good about having pesky toenail/fingernail issues.  It’s a blessing, actually.  I see my podiatrist at least once a quarter (usually more) and everything rolls on.

After losing it three times, my left big toenail is growing in again, and there’s a corner that is growing in instead of out.  It doesn’t hurt, but it probably will eventually.  This month my podiatrist suggests a mini surgery: a chemical matricectomy.  It requires three weeks of healing time and staying out of natural bodies of water during that time.  With my fickle digits, I don’t want to risk breaking the rules: I seem to be prone to infections.

A look at my summer calendar: I’ve got camping, a lake vacation, a canoe trip, and dreams of a lake blob upcoming.  All in natural bodies of water.  I do not have a three week window this summer where I can sit on the bench.

After all those fun summer water events will be autumn.  When we will scan.

SO.  Do I have my chemical matricectomy and sideline myself from some of the summer activities so that IF cancer pops up and I need more chemo, I won’t have to worry about my TOE?

Good grief.  My toe, for pete’s sake.  But it’s a legit risk.

I booked the appointment for the surgery and sighed as I thought of the fun stuff I would miss.

And then I cancelled the appointment because I refuse to plan on cancer.

Yes, we’ll scan in the fall.  I plan on cruising through the scan and having another six months of “easy drugs” like I’m on now.  I can have the matricectomy — assuming it is still necessary — in the cooler months when I’m not adventuring so much.  As I have no associated pain right now, the only thing driving the urgency is the fact that I’m not currently immuno-compromised.  And I plan to stay that way thank-you-very-much-cancer.

I refuse to plan on cancer.

I’m doing busy, adventurous, happy, playful, dirty, fun things.   And I’m not sidelining myself for a “what if.”

That’s the hard part of this Stage IV cancer thing.  Little things like an issue with a toenail become weighty cancer-related decisions that come out of nowhere.  Amidst my  days I have to navigate the laundry, and the children, and the food, and the cancer worry, and the toenail plus cancer risk.  I quickly go from normal to what-the-what?

I refuse to plan on cancer.

Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.  –Colossians 3:2