This post was supposed to be a really positive post, all about the first day of Chol HaMoed (visiting the Shomronim on Har Grizim, then going to Giv'ot Olam, an organic communal farm, between Yitzhar and Itamar), and the second day (at Tel Shilo).
Somewhere along the way, I was also going to mention how I seem to be out of my slump.
But, today, at Tel Shilo, right as we were walking around the area where most archeologists agree that the Mishkan stood, my oncologist called me up.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"I'm at Tel Shilo; where are you?" I responded, trying to be light-hearted.
"I'm at the office. When will you be back in Jerusalem?" he responded, no-nonsense all the way.
"Tonight. Why?" I finally realized this was not simply a friendly call.
"I want you to do a CT on Sunday." BAMM!
"Your markers are still rising...." BOOM!
I look around me, at the serene archaeological site. I want to hang up the phone, but I cannot. CRASH!
"I would really rather not come in on Sunday..." I say, thinking about our plans to spend the day with family and friends.
"We need to get the CT results before you receive your next treatment." He says, slowly, making sure I understand.
I do not understand. Well, I do, but I do not want to...
"I am not scheduled for chemo on Sunday," I remind him.
I suggest doing the CT on Wednesday. He agrees. I mention that I have to come in anyway, for a bone scan. He tells me that I can't schedule them for the same time. My bone scan is at 8:30/9:00. He suggests scheduling the CT for noon. Then I remember that I might need to fast for the CT (I do), and that I need to drink for the bone scan (I think). So we agree that I'll get the CT on Thursday, before chemo....
No pressure there. Can't get chemo until I get the CT. Might not even get chemo, depending on the results of the CT. Gotta go for the CT on the same morning as I am supposted to get chemo, if I even get it....
This is crazy.
Our group is moving on. I do not want to miss the explanations of the site. I get off the phone.
Moshe has questions for me.
I have no answers.
I am all rattled.
My cancer world just crashed down on my every day world -- you know, the one where I ignore the cancer, and just have fun with my family....
I pull myself together.
"Let's deal with this later," I suggest to my husband. He agrees, even though it is hard for both of us.
We gather the kids, and rejoin the group, as if nothing happened....
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
Shlomo Katz Nigun of the Week (video)
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