good news, bad news, who knows?

Thanks for all your messages of celebration yesterday. I was a little hesitant to share yesterday's good news before speaking with the oncologist, perhaps with good reason. 

Although the oncologist agrees that it's good that the tumor is shrinking, she still wants us to do the more aggressive course for the next round of chemo. There's still some cancer there, she said, and sometimes some of the cancer cells are resistant to some chemo drugs. So, instead of 4 biweekly doses of Taxol starting next week, I will have 12 weekly (lower) doses of Taxol, and every 3 weeks (weeks 1, 4, 7, and 10) I will also receive carboplatin. Apparently Taxol is easier to tolerate for most people than what I've been doing, so on the 2 intermediate weeks with Taxol only, I hopefully won't feel too badly. The Taxol-Carboplatin combo has a more similar side-effect profile to what I've been doing. 

Given that they've had a little trouble getting a good IV the last couple of times, I've decided to go ahead and have a port placed, since 12 treatments is a lot more than the 4 I was hoping for. The port placement procedure (under light sedation) will be tomorrow morning. No swimming for a week :(. All of this burst my happy-bubble a little, but even yesterday with the news of the tumor shrinking, I was trying to keep in mind the famous Taoist parable:

A farmer’s only horse ran away. The neighbors, trying to console him, said, “What terrible news about your horse. What will you do?” But the farmer said, “Bad news, good news… who knows?” 

A few days later, the horse returned, leading an entire herd of wild horses. The neighbors exclaimed, “How wonderful!” The farmer replied, “Good news, bad news… who knows?”

The next day, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the new horses. The horse threw the son, who broke both legs. The neighbors said, “What a misfortune! Your son won’t be able to work on the farm.” The farmer stood still and said, “Bad news, good news… who knows?”

Within the week, news of a war had broken out. Soldiers arrived in the village, taking new recruits. All the young men were drafted to fight, except for the farmer’s son.

Good news? Bad news? Who knows?

My habitually optimistic mind is already naming the potential good sides of this treatment plan: 1) another breast cancer survivor I talked to says her friend who did 12 weekly doses ended up with less peripheral neuropathy than she did with the 4 heavier biweekly doses; 2) the later timing of my chemo end-date might put my surgery in a window when my sister-in-law Margot who is an MD and has offered to come for the surgery could be here (rather than during the month when she & my brother's family will be in South America!)

And, the doctor says we can skip a dose of Taxol for me to go to Ceramics Camp in July if we don't end up having to hold a dose for other reasons (e.g. low blood cell count, which can happen with carboplatin). If I do get to go, I will be a happy camper indeed.  (I think -- but who knows?)