How Long Can You Hold Your Breath? Chapter 8; Coco's Journey

by Larry Puls @larrypulsauthor

Ovarian Caner; Chances of Survival

She looked in the mirror. A reflection from the baldness. To her, an ugly reminder of a journey. A picture that told the story, five weeks from surgery, three weeks from chemotherapy, and two months from perfect health. Why me?

At least now, her pain had resolved. She could walk and eat again. But she still battled sadness. It was hard to be upbeat. The chemotherapy suite still flashed too clearly in her mind. She would be back there in two very short days. Is it already that time again? It was… And it was time to be strong, and a time to be resilient. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to pray. And then without looking back, she placed on her wig and turned to go.

Pulling up to the cancer center, the parking garage was no longer a foreign place. In fact, it was beginning to be too familiar. Every parking place was bringing back flashbacks of former visits. Another deep breath. Calm your heart. You can do this. She climbed from the car, searching for some confidence—a warrior heading to battle. But deep down, she knew she was fragile.

She got checked in. The necessary exam was done and then she dressed. Her heart was now racing like the wings of a humming bird. What was the news she was about to hear? It was time for “the talk”. Her realtime update. Where was she in the journey at the end of chapter one? What did the first chemotherapy do? She wanted to know... She didn’t want to know... She could hardly breathe.

“Coco, I am so proud of how you are doing,” her physician said.

“Do you think so, Dr. Michaels?”

“Let me just walk you through everything. Your blood work is excellent. The white blood cells that fight your infections did go down a little bit a week ago but they have now fully recovered. It seems that from what you have told me your nausea was minimal and that the abdominal pain you had was tolerable… That is what you said, right?” Coco responded with a nod.

“But the important thing is this,” he said reaching out to hold her hands. “Your CA 125 has plummeted.”

“What does that mean?” she said.

“Well, if I've never talked to you about CA125, I apologize." he said scratching his head. "Let me put it this way, to help you understand. I will paint an analogy, to make all of this a little clearer. CA 125 is a cancer blood test. And there are many blood tests that tell stories about us. For instance, when you were pregnant, you made a unique substance that was found in your blood known as the pregnancy test. So someone could tell you were pregnant even without an exam. Well in some cancers, that same thing can happen. Cancers can sometimes make proteins that let us know they are there even if we can’t see them or feel them. The ovarian cancer protein called is CA 125 and it should be under thirty-five. When I met you, yours was 1276. That is a pretty high number and reflective of what we found surgically with your cancer. Since that time, you have had one surgery and one chemotherapy out of six. And today your CA 125 has dropped down to an amazing fifty-three. What that says to me is that we are having a very significant impact on your cancer. At this rate, you may well have a perfectly normal number by next cycle of chemotherapy. And the quicker it goes to normal, the better your chances are of a cure… And that’s what we are after, right?”

Coco was struggling to retrieve her words. It was part confusion, but mostly elation. Suddenly she reflected back to the bald head she had seen in the mirror this morning. Is this news worth that picture? She knew the answer to that. But at the moment she had forgotten to breathe. A thousand thoughts were being processed in rapid sequence. The bald head was worth it. Bald was suddenly beautiful--not ugly. The abdominal pain was unquestionably worth it. All of what laid in front of her somehow seemed doable. Temporary pain and suffering had a tangible goal, a gorgeous endpoint. Maybe she would see the grandkids someday. But until then, that test she learned about today called CA 125 would become a very big focal point in her life. She would live for it, breath for it, and find a way to crush it if she could. Less that thirty-five, that is what he said. That will be my prayer.

“Yes, that is what we are after,” she responded after the delay.

“Then you can breathe now.” Dr. Michaels leaned over and offered a hug. She was ready for chapter two. It would all start again the day after tomorrow—but this time with more hope than the last.

How Long can You Hold Your Breath? Chapter 8; Coco's Journey, Larry Puls, (Click to Tweet)

Don't Miss the Previous Chapters
Coco's Journey: Chapters 1-10