Tomorrow

When I was a little girl, I loved to sing. I would sing anywhere and everywhere I went. I would sing at school, I would sing in the car, I would sing at the hair salon while my mom got her hair done, I would sing at family parties; I would always sing. The problem was, for about 3 years of my life, I would only sing one song.

Tomorrow.

"The sun'll come out, tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun!"

Now, here I sit. 30 years later and the word "tomorrow" has been running through my head all day. Yes, today was rainy, but I'm not waiting for the sun to come out tomorrow. I'm waiting for answers.

Answers to all of the questions I've had since Dr. Tobias called to tell me that my relatively simple cervical cancer treatment of surgery only, has been scrapped and replaced with all of the words of terror that any cancer patient dreads hearing. Radiation, and most of all, chemotherapy.

Tomorrow, I'll wait for Dr. Leitao from Sloan-Kettering to come back from his robotic surgery convention in Greece and either confirm Dr. Tobias' diagnosis of the super rare and aggressive cancer called Small Cell Neuroendocrine Carcinoma, or tell me it was all a mistake.

Oh, how I would love for him to tell me that the pathologists at Sloan-Kettering didn't see Small Cell at all, and Dr. Tobias must be crazy. I'd love to hear him tell me that we can go back to the surgery only plan and I won't need radiation and chemo.

But I know the odds of good news are small.

At this point, the most I can hope for is that we can work the treatments around my wedding.

While I still cry about it every day, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm going to lose my hair. I fought back tears as I was singing a bedtime song to Justin tonight and he reached up and ran his fingers through my long, soft locks. He held onto it for a good part of the song, then used it to pull me closer so he could give me a kiss. I'll be going to look at custom wigs on Tuesday. I'm deciding whether or not I should just shave my head instead of waiting for my hair to fall out. Would it be better to just take control of the situation and do it myself? But what if I'm the one in a million who doesn't lose her hair from the treatment. Ok, can't think about that now. I need to wait.

Wait until Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll be a bit puffier from the fertility injections. Tonight will be the 3rd one I've given myself. The first one sucked. I almost passed out. Last night was a bit easier, and I'm sure tonight will be better yet. But I feel like shit. I'm puffy and crampy and I still have at least another week to go. People keep telling me it's for a good cause. But is it really? Yes, I understand I'm harvesting my eggs so Jimmi and I might be able to have a baby with a gestational carrier later. But I'm being forced into this before the poison I'll have coursing through my body to kill the cancer kills my baby-maker too. That doesn't sound like a good reason to me. And what if I don't get enough viable eggs? What if not enough of them get fertilized? What if they don't make it to the freezing stage? I only have one shot at this. One shot before whatever eggs I have left are spoiled. It needs to work this time. There's no other choice.

I need to wait for answers.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, tomorrow! You're always a day away!"