A few days ago, when I was at the reception desk for the MRI, I was handed a health questionnaire about how I'm feeling and the state of my health. One question asked if I felt as though my health was poor, average, good, or exceptional. I choose exceptional. For some reason however, some dark corner of my mind keeps tweaking the information we've learned in the past month (cancer still present in lungs, mediastinum, neck, maybe jaw bone, and 5th thoracic vertebrae) and using it against me.
Nothing has changed since December, when I was preparing for the 2010 cycling season with high-hopes and dreams of: 350-watt 20 minute time trials, a busy mountain bike racing schedule (and associated friends, beer, and time in the woods), massive w/kg numbers, and dethroning butthead (with the help of fellow BoCoMo resident Shottler) as top cyclocross dog. However, psychologically, everything seems to have changed. Now I feel like a real cancer patient. And it sucks.
Every little back-ache I experience, a waterfall of worse-case scenarios fills my monkey-mind. For some reason now, with the knowledge of continued pulmonary (aka lung) disease, I can't seem to get as much oxygen into my blood.
The present is still a time for waiting...no plan yet as to what to do. Somebody might want to stick a needle in my back to biopsy that vertebral nodule, so of course, I'm trying to think of a time in which that would be least inconvenient. Maggie takes her boards in May, we'd like to have some time to chill in June (perhaps head to Colorado for a few weeks just to ride and relax), then of course, there's work, med school continuing in August, and taking care of Cassidy.
Froze toes is coming up, and I'm still a little unsure about the whole treatment plan in addition to feeling a bit freaked out with everything going on. Ethan and Dave Henderson have been teaching me good road riding skills and I'm enjoying it, but I'm definitely ready to go crush some single track.