Okay, enough angst and emotion. Here's the update on what's going on:
Next week is the biggie. Tuesday, CT scan. Wednesday, meeting with the surgeon. Friday, surgery. THE surgery. Removing the tumors off each kidney. (1 biggie per kidney.) As of now, the surgeon thinks he can remove them and leave working kidney on both sides.
Cardiologist thinks her heart can take the surgery. Oncologist thinks the chemo has done all it's going to do, shrinkage-wise. Which is to say, not much.
Me, I've got to make sure to avoid caffeine after noon, so that I can fall asleep when I go to bed. I remember there was some teen-slasher film in the 80's wherein the kids weren't supposed to fall asleep. Nightmare on Elm Street, I guess. If you fell asleep, the killer could get you in your dreams.
For me, it's if I can't fall asleep. If I have to lay there in bed for more than 5 minutes, they come ... horrible thoughts. I can almost see them, like worms, crawling up the bed. Ughhh. How's that for visualization.
They always involve the Worst Case Scenario. You would think that would be bad enough, right? Losing someone you love? Nope. It's what to do next. Last night, the spectre of making a decision on organ donation haunted me. I'm all for it, but one doesn't really like to think of it in connection with one's infant daughter snuggled up next to you. I was envisioning the whole scenario, and wondering if I could hold her again, and how the timing would work out, and then, there I am, sobbing in the dark.
When I woke up, I realized it probably wasn't even an issue, since she has cancer, and I think there are rules against such things. Why couldn't that logic visit me along with the worms? I guess Logic is busy sleeping while I'm suffering. Bastard.
I'm okay now. It's daytime.