Through the ringer.

I struggled with trying to find a word that summed up how I've felt the past few days.

I guess I needed three.

Through the ringer sums it up. (Although health wise I've felt relatively good, actually.)

Dustin and I deliberated and thought about what to do with my further treatment.

He quickly made a decision, surprisingly it was me who was a little slower. Usually it is the other way around.

We could go ahead and do another scan and then decide if we were even going to attempt the shots that have a small percentage of a chance to stop growth.

My emotions were haywire with this.

I want the tumors to stop growing more than anything. The ones in the liver I can't feel, so those don't scare me as much. It is the one in the lung.

Breath.

I've never treasured it so much.

I've caught myself watching people take a deep breath and not cough - it makes me marvel.

People singing and entire song, sometimes three, four, five, all without coughing, or "hawkingaloogie" :-) brings awe.

People laughing. Drawing in large gasps of air to fuel their hilarity, and no cough. Fantastic.

You don't even think twice about it when it isn't a struggle.

I think about it all the time. Maybe not consciously, but it is in the back of my mind as I talk to people.

I don't want to get any worse. I don't want my lung tumor to hamper my life anymore.

I don't want it to stay as it is, not shrinking, just staying.

And that is what ultimately made the decision for me.

Dustin had already said I should just wait on the scan and pursue the natural.

To have him say that so decisively made me pause. I would have expected the opposite.

To have me leaning towards a scan that made me drink a bottle of radio active material also gave me pause. We all know how I feel about that. :-)

I didn't want to make a decision out of fear. And fear is what was making me consider a scan that had very little chance of helping me.

So, after a lot of prayer and tears, (tears on my part) we felt positive that the scan can wait.

My oncologist is on board with our decision. Can I say he whole heartedly approves? Actually I have no idea. He didn't argue against it, and that in itself tells me how small a percentage this shot has in working.

I've felt so blessed to have the doctors surrounding me that I know I can trust to tell me the truth, and if you are wondering, he is still my oncologist. I will still be meeting with him regularly to check my progress and I can call him at a moments notice.

This decision has been so hard to make because I feel, in part, that I've ended one journey and begun another.

I've taken the medical field train as far as I can, for now.

The tracks may begin again further on in my journey, but for the moment it's another form of transportation.

I hesitate to say wagon or stage coach because I think the chiropractor would prefer to think of himself as more a space age car. :-) He is a bit of an eccentric, but I'll take his confidence right now. I need someone to believe we can kick this thing.

I don't know if I'm scared, nervous, excited.

Probably all three.

I wasn't going to share this, because I hate to throw false encouragement out there, but you guys are so faithful at praying, that I have to. (even if it turns out to be nothing)

I can't believe I'm talking about this with all of you.

Seriously, but here goes.

My chiropractor said to look for the mucus I cough up to turn yellow or gray as a sign that my tumor may be breaking up. (sorry, gross I know.)

The last few days it has been slightly yellow. Slightly.

It has only ever been clear or bloody.(gross as well) But not bloody for a long time, honest. That's for Teresa.

So.... I'm encouraged.

It's those little things that keep you going..... :-)