This morning was all about choice. I sat in the wooden chair, pillow tucked behind my neck, hands on my belly and talked about treatment choices with Hans and Dr. Berry. After much discussion, we decided on a path forward.

Tomorrow I will begin taking the oral chemotherapy. I am starting at half the strength that Doc would prefer so as to “test the waters.”

I will take 2 pills twice a day, 12 hours apart for 2 weeks. Because of the weakened dosage, Doc doesn’t think that I’ll have too many adverse side effects and if I do, it won’t be until the second week. No pills during week 3 while we run tests and reassess the dosage.

We remain confident that the chemo treatment will manage thing one and thing two. What is unknown is if there be any effect on the peritoneal disease that is causing most of my symptoms. It’s proving to be incredibly inconvenient to have the type of cancer that cannot be scanned and measured.

I don’t have a clever segue into the poem that I wrote today. So instead here is an adorable picture of Little Debbie and her first cat.

Let me just say this before you proceed down the page. I worry. I worry that you might read some of my writing, specifically the moodier pieces, and be scared for me or worried or panicked. I can assure you that none of those reactions are necessary. But, I’ll be sure to let you know when and if things change.😜

THE TIME BETWEEN

I’m hanging on hanging in there carrying on persevering buckling down digging in

I’m hanging on for the time between

the time between the pain the time between the sadness the time between the reality that

The time between will diminish shrink decrease narrow dwindle

No matter.

I’m hanging on

For the time between

‘Cause the time between is sweet….Bursting forth with such force…..as if she’s been crouched in waiting all along….Waiting for just the right luscious moment

‘Cause the time between is delicious…Fun and unpredictable flavors of my family come alive on my tongue. My children, my siblings and my husband. I savor then swallow. The warmth flows through me as chicken soup for my soul.

‘Cause the time between is spicy…My appetite for vicarious living satisfied by friends that share their lives with me. Some stories are salty and some are sweet, I fill up on them all.

‘Cause the time between is precious fleeting brief ephemeral transitory

but the time between still exists.

So I’m hanging on