JAMs Jams. Pure. Real. Fresh.

Who knew that post cancer life was measured in three month increments?  I go thru every day looking forward to the time when it will be measured in six month increments.  Its an interesting psychology & not one I had ever thought about before I had cancer. I find myself drawn to writing on here around the time of each quarterly check up.  Last Monday was scans & I saw the orthopedic oncologist.  Thursday I saw the sarcoma oncologist.  All was well, thank god, but there is no feeling like that wondering what they will say.  Every quarter is all comes flooding back - just going in the cancer clinic makes me want to vomit - thank goodness I don't have to go by the chemo clinic.  I don't even get off on the 2nd floor where chemo is - I go to great lengths to avoid it. But sitting in the belly of the beast waiting to see my intelligent, sweet, kind oncologist is absolutely hell on earth for me.  I feel guilty that I'm healthy looking at the o...

Sitting in the waiting room at Vanderbilt, the "belly of the beast" as I think of it. Just a routine (hopefully) three month check up for me. But even being here makes me nauseous. Looking at all the people waiting to see their doctors and get their labs checked brings back so many memories. Some have physical components like feeling sick or my hands sweating. It's just awful. Monday is the worst day here when everyone comes to see their doctors and start their chemo which they call "infusions" like that makes it better?  I'm glad I'm not here on a Monday & I make it a point never to schedule Monday appointments. Thursday is a slow day & there is still a line to check in. At Vanderbilt the chemo room, or "Infusion suite" as it's called, is on the second floor. So is the cafeteria which has a panda express. Still can't eat that food or go on the second floor here. I can't avoid the main clinic for check ups tho. Without fai...