Hope Is Where The Heart Is (3)

It has been 6 months since Scott finished cancer treatment, and it's time for the first post-treatment scans.  It's been almost one year since we first heard the word "chordoma."  Life has gotten more or less "back to normal."  Scott is working regularly, and is doing very well.  His strength will take a while to come back, he still gets fatigued, and he still has a deal of pain, but when we think about all that he went through, it's a miracle he is doing so well.

Now we prepare for a return trip to Boston for scans.  I've picked up a new term over this last year, "scanxiety."  Following the chordoma support group on facebook, I've read many stories of the fear and anxiety leading up to follow up scans.  Chordomas like to come back, and that's a scary thought.

In it's own weird way, almost scarier than initially hearing the diagnosis.  Thinking back, once the "C" word was out, all focus, thought and energy went into figuring out what needed to be done next and dealing with setting up treatment, surgery, travel, lodging, caregivers, insurance, financial aid, etc.  There wasn't enough time or energy left over to worry about even the possibility of treatment failing or a return of the tumor at some point in the future.  But now, with all that behind us, I find myself terrified at the prospect of going through it all again.

Having watched Scott handle whatever was thrown at him for 6 months, I can't imagine having to watch him endure it all over again.  I have figured out that when people refer to cancer patients and survivors as warriors, and talk about fighting and staying strong, it's because the cure is hell.  Cancer patients go through hell to come out well again.  To watch them making that journey through hell with grace and especially with a sense of humor, is truly something amazing to observe.  But, they do it because it's what must be done.  Life wins.  But, to knowingly take that same path again, and sometimes again and again...to walk back into hell, with the memory and scars of your last visit there still fresh on your brain and your skin and bones, takes more strength and courage than is right to expect of any human being.  But, they do it everyday.  You do what you have to do to live.  Because life wins.  Still, it breaks my heart for Scott having to even contemplate the possibility of walking back into hell while he is still healing from his last trip.

I know that his scans will be clear.  I KNOW they will be clear.  And, I truly think he believes that they will be clear.  He hasn't expressed a lot of fear or scanxiety, but it must be there.  I've joked that I am more nervous about it than him, but of course that isn't true.  I think his dreams are troubled, how could they not be?

His scans will be clear this time, his scans in 6 months will be clear, and the next and the next, and the next, and so on...  HOPE is strong, HOPE is strength, HOPE is courage, HOPE IS WHERE THE HEART IS.

Hope Is Where The Heart Is (1)
Hope Is Where The Heart Is (2)

Alligator Alley

I can see the first glow of the sunrise in my rear-view mirror as I go through the toll plaza, heading west on Alligator Alley.  The posted speed limit through the toll booth is 25 MPH, but only the tourists go that slow and nearly cause the local drivers to have accidents and strokes.  I tap the brakes, slowing to a modest 40 as I cruise through the lane marked “Sunpass Only.”  The credit card sized sticker on my windshield makes no sound, and I smile to myself thinking about the old transponders. 

They were clunky grey boxes that stuck to the windshield with suction cups, which didn't always do their job when the glass was heated by the Florida sun and often ended up on the floor.  When passing through a toll booth, the old transponders would beep reassuringly to let you know the toll had been paid.  Years ago, when my mother could still travel and my parents visited often, I had given them a Sunpass transponder and set up an account on my credit card.  On one of their drives from north Georgia to the Keys, the battery was weak in their transponder and it didn't beep when going through a few of the tolls.  My mother worried the entire drive and the way home (even though we replaced the battery for their return trip.)  She was convinced they were going to be arrested for not paying those tolls.  A few years later they were planning another visit, when Daddy told me that Mama was scared to go back to Florida because she worried as soon as they crossed the state line they would be arrested for dodging those tolls two years earlier! 

Accelerating rapidly, I merge from one of 6 toll booths back into two lanes.  Thanking my Honda Pilot’s V6, I quickly pull ahead of the slower traffic and make my way to the left lane.  The speed limit on Alligator Alley is 70 MPH, so when the needle hits 80, I set the cruise control and relax.  Nothing but straight, flat, smooth interstate for the next 80 miles or so.  I hope it’s early enough that I won’t hit much traffic.  I left my house at 5 A.M. for a 10:00 meeting in Sarasota.  Normally that drive takes me just a little over 4 hours, but it's season and the traffic in all of south Florida has been terrible for a month.  The snowbirds have definitely arrived.  So, I allowed 5 hours, giving myself plenty of time for a relaxed drive.  I lean back in the seat and turn up the music.

The road in front of me is straight and flat.  The median is wide, so wide that in some places the oncoming lanes aren't visible.  The terrain is flat and scrubby.  Scraggly palm trees dot the landscape, surrounded by lush palmetto, cattails, saw grass and wire grass.  A canal borders both sides of the interstate, but I know there is also plenty of water under all that green.  They don’t call it the River Of Grass for nothing.  As the first rays of the early morning sun reflect off the surface of the canal to my right, I see a dark shiny arrow shape cutting a wake slowly across the glassy surface of the water.  My first ‘gator of the drive!  A little further up the road, another glance to my right reveals two large alligators sunning themselves on a rock beside the water.  I am both fascinated and terrified of alligators at the same time.  One of my biggest fears is crashing into the canal and being eaten by ‘gators!

Singing along with Adele about being your one and only, I am really getting into it when I notice that I’m approaching a car ahead of me in the left lane.  For a brief moment, I allow myself to hope that he will see me approaching and move over to the right lane as it is wide open.  Getting ever closer and with no sign of a turn signal, that slender hope fades.  Hoping to avoid releasing my cruise control, while I’m still several car lengths behind him or her (in my mind, I’ve already named them Indiana Lexus,) I go ahead and move over to the right lane preparing to pass without even getting upset about it.  As I come alongside Indiana Lexus, they suddenly accelerate, pulling ahead and leaving me behind.  Shrugging and shaking my head, unsure what reason could have prompted such behavior, I’m just happy to be rid of them, and continue in the right lane without ever changing my speed or coming off cruise.  I go back to singing.  Adele has been replaced by Brandi Carlile singing about the lines on her face.  I glance up at my reflection in the rear-view mirror and think about the stories the lines on my face tell.

For almost ten minutes I drive in the right lane with no other traffic in sight, singing and ‘gator spotting.  After a while, I notice that I am approaching a car in the right lane ahead, so I verify there is no other traffic behind and slowly drift over to the left lane.  As I get closer to the vehicle in the right lane, I realize that it is Indiana Lexus.  Once again, as I come alongside them, this time on the left hand side, they suddenly accelerate and speed off ahead.  “Weirdo,” I say aloud.  No problem, I continue on.  

Within just a few minutes, I start to close the gap between myself and Indiana Lexus, who is now in the left lane because there is a semi in the right lane ahead.  I peer around and it doesn't look like I can get around IL before catching up to the truck.  So, I approach patiently, releasing my cruise control for the first time.  Looking down at the speedometer, I watch the needle drop from 80 to 75, now 70…Indiana Lexus slows down to 65 miles per hour as we are passing the truck.  I admit that I cuss at this point.  As IL finally starts to pull ahead of the truck, I assume they will move over since they are going so slow.  But, no.  I am forced to wait until I also finally pull ahead of the truck, and have to change lanes and once again pass Indiana Lexus on the right.

As I come alongside them, what do you think happened?  At this point I am getting angry.  My peaceful morning drive, singing and looking at wildlife, is being seriously harshed.  But then, after hanging neck and neck for a mile or so, they finally drop back and I see them in my rear-view mirror, moving over to the right lane.  Satisfied, I turn up the music and once again begin to sing along.  Now it’s the Avett Brothers, “Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in…”  It’s fun to sing along with the Avett’s, especially when they get to the screaming parts; as long as there is not another soul within ear shot.

There is another semi-truck in the right lane ahead, so I make sure it’s safe and move to the left lane to pass.  In my rear-view, I see Indiana do the same and fall in behind me.  Without changing my speed (I’m still on cruise control) I begin to pass the truck.  Indiana Lexus is coming ever closer in my rear-view.  By the time I am clear of the truck, they are on my ass so bad that I can’t see their headlights.  Now I am really mad.  Of course I don’t move over once I’m clear of the truck.  Resisting a strong urge to tap my brakes and scare the crap out of them, I just maintain my position and speed.  Finally IL moves over in front of the truck, accelerates and speeds past me on the right.  Resisting another very strong urge to flip them my middle finger, I admit that I look over, hold up my hand and give him (yes, I finally see that it's a him) the “WTH?” gesture.  My will power is rewarded with a middle finger out the window as the Lexus speeds by.  

Thankfully, I have reached the end of Alligator Alley and the first Naples exit is only a couple miles ahead.  I slow down just a bit and decide to stop for the usual pit stop stuff, and for a “breather,” but mostly to let that jerk get out of my life before I respond and ruin my day.

I make my way back onto I-75 north a little later, sipping a fresh hot coffee and listening to Little Feat sing about all the trouble I've had today, and I wonder about Indiana Lexus.  What do you think was going through his mind during that time?  Did he think that I was being aggressive and that he was totally innocent?  I often wonder about the mentality of people on the road and wish that cars had cartoon thought bubbles over them with the driver’s thoughts inside.  I’m always saying, well probably yelling, “What are you thinking?!”  In discussing this phenomenon with others in the past, I've heard people say that it is of course a competitive streak, and that we are all guilty of it.  As much as I drive, I've given this a lot of thought and I don’t agree. 

I think it’s probably two different types of people.  1)  The competitive driver doesn't like to be passed, likes to aggravate other drivers just because he can, even possibly without truly realizing it.  2) The distracted driver who just doesn't pay attention to their speed or lanes until they realize another vehicle is involved, and then they respond in such a way to make the matter worse.  Either way, I don’t have much patience with them.  

I try to drive the speed at which I’m comfortable; I move over for faster traffic and expect the same in return.  In general, I try to drive in such a way that my actions never cause another driver to change their behavior because of me.  And, I expect the same in return.  Unfortunately, I realized long ago that my expectations are always miles too high.  

I hope my return trip across Alligator Alley will be uneventful.