James Bond Not Even a Distraction

Now don't take this the wrong way dear husband, but Daniel Craig is a pretty good looking guy. In fact, he may be the best Bond ever, except of course for Sean Connery. But since Mr. Connery is a little out of my age group, I will have to settle for Mr. Craig.

Since Monday was a holiday, we decided to make it family movie day. Sort of. Three of us wanted to see the new James Bond, but the 4th was too young. So, we conned grandma into taking the 4th to some animated feature. And then the 3rd decided he couldn't possibly go to a movie with his parents and didn't want to go. I'm pretty sure either dad or grandma laid on the guilt trip, because he did end up going (but not sitting with us).

During the previews, the chemo doc called my cell to talk about "the meeting" she had with the surgeon and the radiation oncologist. Super, now all 3 of them are ganging up on me.

Here are the basics...which I learned about over the phone in the movie theater lobby:

All three agree that desperate times call for desperate measures. A mastectomy is everyone's first choice, but will NOT change the course of treatment. I will have to have chemo AND radiation regardless of what I choose.

There is an "unusual" (this is a word that I am tired of hearing) spot close to my heart (near the sternum? chest wall? breast bone? I wasn't really listening at this point) which is a lymph node that is "lighting up" on all the tests. Possibly has cancer in it, but because of it's location, no one can get to it to remove it. Super!
Five year survival rate percentage (or whatever they call this number) has dipped into the low 70s. That's kind of freaky, by the way. All along you think that your survival odds are like 99% because you're amazing and doing all the right things and it's just a process you have to go through to get to the other side. This is not something I really wanted to hear.

Of the three options for chemotherapy that were given to me initially, one was ruled out because of it's long-term risks to someone as "young and in good health" (another phrase I'm really tired of. I have cancer...how am I in good health???) as me. However, after this confab, it was determined that risks be damned. This is now the course that she wants me to go.

Before I can start anything, I have to have an echocardiogram, a PET scan, and a CT scan so that everyone knows what I was like "before." Yeah, more tests...which means more paperwork (see previous post). 

And then I went back into the movie theater (where us "young folk" were outnumbered 189 to 3 by the senior citizen crowd...teenage boy really loved us for this) and attempted to lose myself in what really was one of the BEST Bond movies ever. 

If only for a little while...