What I do know is fear. Fear what its going to be like, guilt for thinking about it, grief of a past life, and anger for cancer making me feel all of this. I feel like I've been given a curfew that isn't fair. A curfew that I know exists but no one will tell me the time.
A month ago we tried a new chemo. Tony was pretty adamant about trying chemo again. He said a break in chemo would kill him. He said he knows what has happened to others when they stop chemo. Where as I disagreed. I felt like the chemo was making him sicker, weaker, and lose weight. But Tony was pretty determined to give it one more shot, and so we did.
Monday he weighed in at 138 pounds at Duke; A 7 pound weight loss in 2 weeks. His oncologist turned his chemo down in hopes that he could maintain his weight and be able to tolerate this new drug. By Thursday Tony was in uncontrollable pain. When its that bad, certain meds help so he can sleep through the pain. Saturday morning I convinced Tony to get on the scale. My fear was spot on, Tony had lost 12 pounds in just 6 days. At the same time his oncologist had emailed me asking for an update. We discussed the past few days and then I saw the last sentence in her email.
Regarding Chemo - NO MORE.
Tony is not able to tolerate anymore chemo...and honestly we are reluctant to try anything else. And now...I'm in uncharted territory.
We have been doing this fight for over six years. We are literally treating an invisible cancer. I truly hate not having a plan. I hate not being able to physically SEE what we are treating. Its hard to know what is the right decision to make. I fear that the chemo is going to take him before the cancer will, but if he doesn't have chemo, its only a matter of time. SO WHAT DO WE DO????? Well, Monday we go back to Duke for labs, fluids, chest x-ray, and a quick visit with the doc, and go from there.
I know he's tired physically, but mentally he's very much still there and wanting to fight. He's loving, kind, gentle, and still spending time with the boys. He's making those times special. He tells me not to worry, and that's he's ok. He allows the boys to play his phone while laying in his armpit. And the boys just want that time with him. It doesn't have to be anything extravagant. Just allowing that time to happen. It means going to bed late, and sharing your bed with the kiddos. It means dinner in bed with daddy, crumbs in the sheets, and a young one on my side of the bed. These memories will be what matters. So with that said, I'm ending this with, instead of typing, I'm going to join Tony and the boys in bed, and treasure every moment. Cause at the end of the day, that's all any of us have.
PRAY FOR OUR HERO, OUR WARRIOR, OUR LOVE!! #TEAMTONY
