Anticipation

Anticipation. The visualization of a future event. Perhaps with pleasurable expectation. Or with a certain degree of anxiety or dread.

I am anticipating my doctors' visits tomorrow. In the morning, we meet with the surgeon's assistant for a follow-up. In the afternoon, we meet with the oncologist to set things in motion for the continuation of chemotherapy.

There is uncertainty as I think about the follow-up with the surgeon. We have not discussed in much detail what happens after the surgery. I have been told that I will have to refrain from putting any weight on my right leg for several months. At some point I think I will require some physical therapy, but I am not sure if and when that will happen.

Several people have asked me if I will be having my staples removed tomorrow. I do not know. I have grown accustomed to the staples. All 63 of them. They are holding my leg together. They have become part of me. And I am not sure that I want to part with them at this point. I have been told that the pain of having them removed is minimal. Not much more than a small pin prick. That's 63 small pin pricks on a leg that is already tender. Here's another instance of where I will need to put of my big boy boxers and deal with it. Just like the needles and the tubes.

I hope to see an x-ray of my leg. I am curious to see what this new construction looks like. The graft. The rod. The screws.

It will be a few more weeks until the pathology report is back. I am looking forward to seeing how effective the chemotherapy has been to this point.

As for the visit with the oncologist, I have few concerns. There is always the possibility that the cancer could spread into other areas, but it does absolutely no good to dwell on those possibilities. As long as the surgeon is pleased with the progress of my recovery, and the oncologist is pleased, chemotherapy should resume on Wednesday.

It has been nice to have a break from chemotherapy, even though I have been in pain from the surgery. My hair is starting to grow again. My appetite has been closer to normal, although pain does tend to suppress the desire to eat. It will not be long before we get back into our three-week routine of treatments, injections to stimulate blood cell production, blood draws to monitor blood counts and Coumadin (blood thinner) levels, and follow-up visits.

Perhaps the toughest part of this battle is over. Maybe not. Only God knows for certain. Do I want the battle to be over? Yes! But I will stay in as long as long as God (the real Commander-in-Chief) requires. The battle belongs to the Lord. I have pledged to serve Him, no matter what. To trust Him, come what may.