What else do you want?

Cancer is brutal! We all know that although we don't know why unless we have had a personal experience with the big C or someone close to us has. Baring witness or living thru it is the only way to truly understand what it is. The physical pain, the emotional pain. Watching the concern on your loved ones face mirror back your own fears. Most of the time you can't believe that this is really happening to you. One doctors appointment after another each coming with a new set of concerns. How is that for a lead in for today?

I think I've mentioned it before, but this morning I had to drive up to UCLA Medical Center to see the "cancer" dentist. As I am learning there are dental concerns for radiation/chemotherapy patients. My last doctor mentioned that they usually have to pull some teeth which really set me off (and prompted me to post the following on facebook: Met with radiology to get chemotherapy radiation set up. I was feeling fine until they mentioned the possibility of pulling teeth. WTF? I didn't get braces to end up looking like a Carney!) Well my worst fears regarding my beautiful (and expensive) smile became a reality. I was informed that I had too much bone loss on my lower four front teeth and they would need to be pulled. Great, now I can get a job operating the zipper at a traveling carnival! I asked what could be done, what would happen if I opted not to do it. The response was a unsure as it was bleak. I called Ken in and had him talk to the dentist. Ken is nothing short of amazing! He can process information for me while my ADD seeks out other shiny objects to fixate on then fill me in on the short version. The short version was this (and said with a sternness that let me know it was serious and had better listen): "If you do nothing, there is a chance that nothing will happen. However, Radiation has a tendency to limit the blood flow to the jawbone. (I am assuming that this would only be in cases such as mine where they are focusing the radiation on my jaw). Without circulation, you cannot heal. If in time the teeth that you were too vain to have pulled in the first place become infected they cannot be pulled because you won't heal. In order to correct this they will have to take part of one of the bones from your leg to make a new jawbone. And wasn't it you who was blogging about the little old lady who swallowed the fly? Is that want you want, to have to give up some of your leg? We can get you a bridge a month after radiation is over!"

My inner child who wanted his own way understood. Didn't like it, but understood. My metaphysical side who believes that all can be healed thru prayer and eating correctly, got it. Fine! Do it. Take them. One thing about me is when I've made up my mind to do something I want it done now. The dentist began speaking about having me come back to do it another time. Really? No, pull them now. He went and checked schedules and got someone to do it there and then. Good. I'll only have to go back to UCLA once. Now take my teeth. I still felt like I had surrendered, but with the given logic, at least I surrendered to the hopefully smarter side. I still was focused on what I had given up since the diagnoses. Time off of work and hanging with people I love. Half my tongue (that I loved so much and brought me so much please over the course of my life). Skin from my arm (but I liked the white skin on my wrist) The vein from my arm (Hey, I wanted that. Well actually I still have it, now it lives in my mouth). Loss, loss, loss. With each tooth pulled I felt my dignity slipping away. How much more?

Finally, I was released to go back to Ken in the lobby. He looked up and with tears in his eyes said "Thank you for giving up all that you have to stay with me". I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I'd give up an arm or leg to stay with him, What was he talking about? Thanking me? It hit me how he really understands me. He knows my vanity, my selfishness, and everything else about me and still wants to spend his life with me. And I was freaking out about four teeth that can be replaced down the road. There are moments that put not just the disease, but your entire life into perspective. This was one of the biggest I'd had. I am loved in ways that I will never understand or possibly appreciate. It is said that nature abhors a vacuum. I know that to be true. I may have had some things taken or moved around, but I have been given so much more in return. I have always been determined to survive cancer, but now I know WHY I am going to survive. Not to survive would be to miss out on a life that has not yet begun to reveal itself to me. I've had glimpses. Today was the clearest yet!