Plan A

 Another day and another pile of puppies.  

A few weeks ago, I was listening to a podcast interview with a man that had a freak accident that left him paralyzed.  He found he could accept this dramatic change to his life by not thinking about what was and what could have been, but that this "new" life is still his Plan A.  A life changing event (and the incredible change that comes with it) doesn't mean we have to go to Plan B-Z.  Plan A.  It's all Plan A.  

I tried to keep my expectations in check about this opportunity in Mexico, but I've had a really good feeling about it from the beginning.  Yesterday was a good day, but today confirmed the good feelings.

All day was spent in the clinic.  When everyone arrived this morning, it was like a reunion of people apart for far longer than 18ish hours.  It didn't matter who it was that walked in the door--everyone was happy, smiling, hugging, joking.  I kid you not...  Being in the clinic all day meant that we got to talk with the other patients.  I'm the old timer of the group having been diagnosed in 2019, and I was happy to share and compare notes.  Alternative treatments, book titles, studies, all discussed and digested.  I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but it was still a pleasant surprise to have another patient from the PNW (from my naturopath's practice) also there.  Being around like-minded people and getting to talk about our diagnosis, disappointments, hopes, and what brought us to Mexico was more cathartic than I would've expected.  

Cancer isn't a hard thing for me to talk about, except that the sad factor goes from 0-100 wicked quick.  The conversation is drown pity, and then they stare as they wait for me to go feeble in front of their very eyes.  The other 4 patients in the clinic today, all women, all athletes, varying ages, varying diagnosis, but all had the same idea that brought them to Mexico.  There has to be a better way to treat cancer, so I'm going to go looking for it.  

Today was several IV infusions to prep for tomorrow's photodynamic therapy.  There was brief concern this morning that the largest tumor in my liver is too close to nerves to treat, but with a quick ultrasound to visualize the tumor and a change of approach, he's confident it will be straightforward and still ideal.  There wouldn't be any danger with the nerves involved, just more pain than necessary.  The procedure itself should be painless with only local anesthetic. 

We're back at our hotel after all day at the clinic.  Having tea, watching the sun slowly set, and listening to the distant sounds of very, very bad karaoke.  It's a true cacophony that is amusing, but also makes me very grateful that closing the windows makes it all a muffled white noise.  Bless these windows.