dancing in the rain

The day after Christmas....although I do not personally celebrate Christmas, half my family is Roman Catholic, so we usually go to my aunt's house for Christmas dinner and to exchange presents. Despite the fact that she was in the hospital this year, we still went to her house, where my cousin and his wife had been staying for the past week. We had homemade lasagna (which was excellent), vegetables, potatoes, etc. It didn't feel like the holiday, though, because my aunt's absence was palpable. I think there were a lot of feelings that were like an undercurrent to the day. We did go to the hospital after our gift exchange. Given the circumstances, my aunt looked good. She had been walking around, eating some solid food (although not as much as she needs to; even her doctor told her she especially needs protein after surgery and during chemo), and not in too much pain or discomfort. I have to admit, it was jarring. And being in the field, I hate that I was taken aback. But the last time I saw her, she had been wearing a wig and had eyebrows and eyelashes....and yesterday she wore a surgical cap and was bald, with no eyebrows and (to me) no visible eyelashes. It brought the whole emotional aspect of cancer home, real fast. But despite that, I think she looked okay. She got an IP (intraperitoneal) port during the surgery, and the plan is to start IP chemo 2 weeks after surgery. I worry about that; IP chemo is notoriously hard. According to the Manual of Clinical Oncology, the majority of ovarian cancer patients do not end up completing all 6 rounds of IP chemo because of the side effects and toxicities. It's harsh. For patients with Stage III ovarian cancer, it has been shown to extend survival, but for patients with Stage IV ovarian cancer, it is not clear whether there is significant benefit. I don't just want her to have extended survival - I want my aunt to have extended *quality, pain-free or low-pain* survival. Survival where she knows who her family is and isn't on massive amounts of medication for pain. Survival where she can travel or go places and do what she wants and not be homebound or bed-ridden. Survival where she can laugh with her grandson and my nephew. This is what everyone wants for their loved ones; quality time. And hopefully, once IP chemo is over, this will happen. That is my hope right now. Hope. Hope. Such an intangible thing that bears the burden of so many wishes and dreams.....

It's been good being up North. I do miss Carolina, and when I go back, I will start 2 classes....Intro to Medical Microbiology and its lab, and Intro to Human Anatomy & Physiology and its lab. I'm terrified and exhilarated. I am taking these classes, and if I do well, I will take one more over the summer - these are prerequisites for the accelerated BSN. Nothing is set in stone, though, and for all I know, I might fail spectacularly. We'll see. I also have an interview for a research assistanship on AYAs and cancer. *fingers crossed*. It sounds amazing, and exactly what I study and what my main focus is.....so hopefully it will work out!

2010 is a week away....this year, 2009, has brought surprises, disappointments, bad news, good news, the end of some friendships and the making of new ones, and taught me a lot about myself. Am I where I thought I'd be? Nope. Am I following the path I thought I would? Not right now, but we'll see in a few months. As one of my mom's holiday cards said, Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning how to dance in the rain.