I SO did not want to do this again...

[stealthcello]

It looks like I'm going to need chemo after all. Meh.

Last week, when my surgeon went over my pathology report with me, she had said I probably wouldn't need chemo because the cancer hadn't yet spread to my lymph nodes. I was initially relieved by this news. However, once I'd obsessively studied the pathology report in detail, there were two points that really bothered me:

• The tumor turned out to be 2cm at its widest (we had expected it to be about 1.5 cm). With invasive breast tumors, 2cm is kind of an arbitrary dividing line between "small" and "not-so-small".
• The cancer had thoroughly invaded the lymphatic system within the breast, although there was as yet no evidence that it had spread to the lymph nodes under my arm. This made me very uneasy: Lymphatic invasion is baaad, even when "confined" to the breast.

Based on these two unhappy facts, I reluctantly came to the conclusion that chemo would probably be advisable. I also decided that if my oncologist didn't agree with me, I was going to have to argue with her. So -- more exhaustive research to back up my assertion; I wrote up a full page of Tough Questions For Dr. Ellis, along with supporting data for my point of view.

As it turned out, I didn't need the Tough Questions, since Dr. Ellis had come to an identical conclusion; I didn't have to argue with her at all. (She does know me well, though: she had already printed out several 15-page articles from the Journal of Oncology on the chemotherapy regimen she was recommending for me, because she knew I'd want to read them. I didn't even have to ask.)

So. That was the good part: I love my oncologist, and she loves me, and we are filled with mutual respect and are in complete agreement. *sparkly hearts and songbirds fill the air*

Unfortunately, what we are in agreement about is that I should receive regular intravenous infusions of a toxic chemical that will make me feel like crap on toast for the better part of three months, if not longer. And which is likely to cause my white blood cell counts to plummet through the floor, necessitating a lovely hospital stay with lovely IV antibiotics if things get really gnarly. Not to mention minor inconveniences like total hair loss and (shudder) painful/numb fingers and toes. (How the hell am I supposed to play the cello if I can't feel my f*ing fingers??!? Well, they tell me not everyone gets that side effect. I'm hoping I'll be one of the lucky ones.)

My first chemo treatment is next Wednesday, February 28. I'm trying not to dread it too much. I've done this once before, 9 years ago, with similarly toxic chemicals -- and I did get through it. It just wasn't an experience I had wanted to repeat...