10,000 points and nobody understands why

Oh my goodness, the life of a cancer patient is constantly bombarded by unwelcome, scary numbers.

I don't even care much for numbers. Maths at school was always my dreaded lesson, Dad spending literally hours tutoring me at home with his brilliant mathematical mind that left me behind daydreaming about how to escape having to ever use maths in my actual life.

Now it's my actual life.

Somehow Huz and I are still taken aback, and even shocked when tumor markers or CAT scans or MRI's come back with bad news. Yesterday it was a tumor marker of 10, 000 (a healthy number is about 130) that has skyrocketed from 7,000 even since last month, making my doctor question if the treatment is even working.

The scans I had only last month showed tumor reduction, but I'm still getting blood transfusions every couple of weeks and the numbers of my red blood cell count keep dropping, so something is very wrong.

My heart should know that this is what my stage IV diagnosis meant those four months ago. My heart should have done its crying and now understand that this number isn't 'newsworthy' as such…it's actually exactly what we were told would happen. 

Treatment works for awhile and then it stops working. Tumors grow. I change chemo's. I pray it will work. I know that my God has the full picture even if my doctor doesn't.

Numbers frustrate me.

Being in bed or on the couch all day with exhaustion frustrates me.

Dr K seems baffled. He told us he's never had a patient in 35 years who has remained anaemic for this long.

I guess I'm just that special;)

Let's just say there was a fresh round of tears from me last night, and a fresh reminder that it's God who holds me and I am completely out of control at this point. It's all I can do to keep holding His hand. 

Thank goodness I know He would never let go of mine.