Great Expectations

"Now, I return to this young fellow. And the communication I have got to make is, that he has great expectations."  Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I used this quote only because of the significance of the word “expectations” . .I personally found the book dreadfully boring.  (sorry Mom)  Last week, Kevin and I had great expectations.  Unfortunately, you don’t always get what you expect.  In the case of the results of the anticipated bone scan and MRI, we had done our very best to set the lowest expectations.  If anyone asked me about the upcoming progress report, I would give my well rehearsed answer borrowed from the oncologist - “No shrinking is expected to be seen until after 4 or 6 rounds of chemo.  Success will be measured if there is no growth.”  That’s what I would say out loud.  But it was very much like the time I ran my first marathon.  When talking about it with people I would tell them that it was “my first and I was really just hoping to finish it.” Finish it?  I very well knew that if I ran it in under 3 hours and 40 minutes I would qualify for the Boston Marathon, and that was exactly what I intended to do.  So unlike the safe reply that would come out of my mouth concerning Kevin, I have really been thinking - “I so badly want to see shrinking!  Too many people are praying for this - there has to be shrinking.”  In some ways, this was still a safe expectation . . I wasn’t expecting a miracle (yet).  I mean, who can change and learn what they are supposed to learn in only 7 weeks?  We went through 10 months of treatment (chemo, radiation, surgery) last time, and obviously THAT wasn’t long enough to learn what we are supposed to.  So the learning continues.  Kevin’s results showed a little growth. Enough “little” to state that his condition is “stable,” but enough “little” to make his wife “unstable.”  Kevin will continue for two more rounds on Yondalis, before another bone scan and MRI to determine our future path.  I hesitate mentioning this info because it will lead you to expect follow up info.  So here’s my advice:  expect me not to ever post again, and then when I do, it will be nice because it was unexpected.  And unlike the results, some of the nicest things in life are unexpected.  

Kevin got round 3 of chemo yesterday.  He’s turning in the man purse right now and plans to “hunker down” and heal for the next 3 days so he can make it to the Fathers and Sons campout on the beach Friday night.  My mom is here again and this time she brought the handyman with her (thank goodness I’m referring to my dad).  He plans to fix anything that needs fixin’ and when he finishes my list, he will start fixin’ things we didn’t even know needed fixing.  Thank you for all of your prayers.  I still strongly believe that prayers are answered.


My in-house editor has informed me that my advice ("expect me not to ever post again") seems a little "jarring" and "harsh."  What I meant to say was . .Expect me TO post again!!  I love it.  The problem is I love it a lot more if I'm writing positive, uplifting, and humorous (sometimes at the expense of others) information.  And when I can't, well . .I just hate to disappoint.