March 13

                I finally managed to get to sleep around 6 am. Chase let me sleep all the way until 10. By the time I got up I was worried that we were going to miss our appointment at 11. Fortunately the oncology clinic is only 8 blocks down the road. It’s hard to beat that for convenience.

The nurse at the front desk showed us back to the doctor’s office. His office was the most interesting collection of animal carvings and sculptures I have ever come across. Every flat surface seemed to have something on it. I wasn't sure exactly what kind of person this doctor was going to be, but he had very interesting taste in decorations. But once he entered the room he put us at ease. He came in in his track suit, since Friday’s are his day off and he agreed to come in to the office to see me specifically. He took all the time we wanted and was able to answer every question we had to ask him. The night before we had put together about two pages of questions we wanted to make sure we got answered and he had covered most of it before we even got a chance to ask them. He was patient, thorough and very kind.

 From the very beginning he wanted to make sure that we were aware of the prognosis for Hodgkin’s patients. Which is really very excellent. For most Hodgkin’s patients the concern is not about curing the cancer, it’s about managing the side effects of treatment. Especially since I have had no symptoms from my cancer. Hodgkin’s is a young person’s cancer, with the average patient between 15 and 35 years old. There are also very established treatment options available with cure rates in the 90%’s even for advanced stage disease (as long as it hasn't spread to the bone marrow). He practically told us that I was not going to die from this and that our concern will be to cure me while minimizing the side effects. It was also important that we started treatment as soon as possible because lymphomas spread quickly and it would only take a month or two before it could become an advanced stage.

Speaking of side effects all the usual chemo problems applied. Hair loss, fatigue, nausea, neuropathy (temporary nerve damage in the fingers and toes that causes tingling) were all likely. The most concerning side effect however, was the possibility of infertility. The strong chemo drugs used to treat Hodgkin’s are administered through the veins and end up affecting all parts of the body. This includes the ovaries, which can be damaged or shut down completely. If that were to happen I would not be able to have children. Our doctor recommended seeing the fertility clinic at the University of Utah to undergo a round of fertility preservation, which means collecting and freezing embryos so that if my ovaries are damaged I will still have something to get pregnant with. He was hopeful that I would be able to have a family someday. But there is no guarantee and no two patients respond to treatment the same way. The possibility of infertility is something too serious to mess around with, especially when I am so young and having a family is so important to us.

                So far in this process I hadn't thought much about what the future was going to look like. I had been so focused on learning about the the cancer I hadn't considered that it might end up changing everything I though my life was going to be. Chase and I have only been married for two years, and with me graduating in May we had started looking towards our future as parents. I know many couples make the decision to have kids before they are done with school, but for us it never felt right. We had prayed many times, wondering what the plan for us and our family was, but every time we got the impression that it was better for us to wait. Now the wisdom of that waiting seems perfectly clear. I can't imagine going through this while caring for a new baby, or even worse, having to face the decision to delay treatment because of a pregnancy. However, I can't help but wonder when or if I will be able to have the children I've dreamed about. At this point there isn't much we can do but put our faith in the Lord and trust that no matter what happens, it is part of his plan and will work out for our eternal good.

                Before we could begin any kind of treatment though there were still a lot of things to do. We didn't know what stage my cancer was at, which would determine how long I would need treatment. We also needed to make sure that my body was strong enough for the chemo drugs. To accomplish all of this I needed to get a CT scan, a PET scan, a bone marrow biopsy, an ECO cardiogram, and a pulmonary function test. As well as going to the fertility clinic to begin the process of fertility preservation. Fortunately we had the magical Kelly on our side. She works at the Oncology center and is a wizard when it comes to scheduling and making things happen. By the end of our first visit she had us scheduled for the CT scan (that afternoon!) and a PET scan and bone marrow biopsy on Monday. She told us she was working on reaching the fertility clinic, as well as the two other tests and would contact us once those were scheduled.

We were able to go directly from that first appointment to the hospital for our initial CT scan. This involved me drinking a liter of red Kool-Aid contrast fluid over the course of an hour. Once that was complete I was taken to the back and put on a pair of classy teal hospital scrub bottoms and a breezy back-tie gown. Chase got to watch from the booth as I held very still and was run through the imaging machine. He really is having a great time checking out all the interesting medical equipment we keep coming in contact with.

After a medically filled morning we decided to keep the scheduled hiking adventure we had planned with my awesome pal Briana. There is seriously no one better to hike a mountain with. The fact that she owns a replica Lord of the Rings sword just happens to be the icing on the cake. The path was muddy but the weather and views were spectacular. It felt incredible to be doing something that felt so normal after all the insanity of the last couple of days. Of course the conversation focused mainly on cancer, but it was the funniest, most ridiculous cancer conversation I've ever had. Everything on the trail became a “cancer metaphor”. The path was several inches deep in mud and made it very slow going – the fight against cancer is slow and never easy, but worth it in the end - and many other comparisons. We also joked about how much I was going to be able to get away with now. “Chase go do the laundry, I have cancer!” As irreverent as is was, I don’t think there could have been a better way to spend that day. It helped me get out of my own head and realize that even though I might have cancer I could still go do cool things. It helps that I haven’t started the draining chemo regimen but for now I’m going to take as much advantage of the adventuring opportunities around here as I can.

That night as I was washing my hair it suddenly seemed to sink in. I was going to have chemo. I was going to lose my hair. I wasn't going to be able to wash my hair like this for much longer. Brushing it out after made me think the same thoughts. Chase was in the other room and I went over to cuddle on the couch with him. That is something we’ve done practically every night since we started dating. It felt so normal and so familiar, and yet everything had changed. I couldn’t take it anymore and the tears began to flow. These tears turned in to sobs as I cried to my patient husband about the unfairness of it all. Why me? What if we weren’t able to have kids? How would I be able to finish school? What would this do to all the adventure trips we had planned for the summer? … On and on it went as I mourned the life I had planned. Chase just held me and let me be angry. He knew that there would be better days ahead, and that tonight I just needed to be angry.