Mayo Day 2

Dear friends,

I had the biopsy done today. I regret it. Even though yesterday, when Andre asked me if I was certain that I wanted to go through with this, I said, "yes", today as I lay on the table and the doctor injected me with the local pain-killer, the loudest voice in my head was a plea -- why, why are doing all this to your body? And all I could do was shudder and cry.

Did I mention how Forscher described osteosarcoma to us? Sarcomas, he said, are different from other cancers. Other cancers eat away at the good cells, sarcomas just want to grow. Sarcomas, he said, don't want to make any trouble, they just want to grow and as they do, they push against the other things that they come against. I remember sitting in his office and thinking. "Great, sarcomas are passive aggressive!"

Today, as the doctor had me roll on my side and lift my left arm up so that they could find the best place to insert the needle, I had a flash of intense pain, accompanied almost by an anguished thought from the mass there on my lung to leave it alone.

Silliness? Perhaps.

The biopsy was painful but swift. The doctor was kind and efficient. He allowed Jenn to stay in the room with me when he saw how distressed I was. But afterward, they had me in the recovery room to ensure that nothing was going wrong and I was alone with my thoughts and tears because they wouldn't allow Andre or Jenn there.

After an hour and a lung X-ray that showed no complications, I was discharged. The results won't come till next week but it seems the doctors are pretty certain that it is indeed osteosarcoma.

We had an appointment with the surgeon, Dr. Rose, who concurred that surgery was not the right option and then Dr. Hubbard, the oncologist from yesterday came back. She said that they would give us the treatment plan they recommended and would be happy to work with whichever local center we chose to administer it. And that she would call us next week with the results of the pathology.

I was too tired to ask questions, too numb to care. Both the meetings left me feeling so vulnerable, so bereft of hope. I'm glad that Jenn is here. She is such an amazing person -- a beacon of light, truly. She reminds me of one of those inflatable dolls I had as a kid: you would punch them and up they would bounce, a smile on their face. And if you weren't careful, sometimes they would swing forward and hit you. The words "indomitable spirit" were meant for Jenn. She has been with us this evening, smiling, cheerful, determined that we will not fall prey to the shadows that are in our mind.

Tomorrow we come back home. I shall be glad to be in the sunshine again, though we have had good weather here too (by Minnesota standards!). And this weekend, Andre and I shall just rest and think about what we learned. We are determined to be deliberate in whatever we do, and that takes time to think.

Dear friends, many of you have asked about putting me in your prayer circles. Please take this as my permission, my appreciation, in fact, for being willing to do so. I have great faith in the power of prayer and now, more than ever, I need to be lifted by a power stronger than any I possess. Thank you for your love and many kindnesses.

Good night!