I had an iron infusion today. Before I went to the treatment room, I was unexpectedly led to an exam room, where I waited for several minutes.

I was beginning to get a little concerned because I had another doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, and I really didn’t want to be late. My normal infusions take approximately two hours, so I had a right to be concerned.

Eventually, my doctor stuck his head in the door and told me he needed to see me, but it would have to wait until after my infusion. He assured me that the information he had for me wasn’t bad.

Of course, there’s nothing quite like a doctor telling you, “It’s not bad,” and then walking away.

That statement may be reassuring to him, but my brain immediately responded with, “Well, if it’s not bad, why can’t you tell me now?”

My infusion itself went according to plan. They gave me Benadryl as a precautionary measure, and within a few minutes, I was sound asleep.

I always bring my Kindle with me so I can read while I’m getting my infusion.

I don’t know why.

I think I have brought that Kindle to every infusion I’ve had, and I’m pretty sure the most I’ve ever accomplished was getting past the title page.

At this point, the Kindle is basically just an expensive security blanket.

I should probably start bringing a pillow instead.

Once the infusion was finished, I finally got to meet with my oncologist.

Thankfully, the meeting wasn’t nearly as bad as I had imagined.

It was about that one marker that just can’t seem to behave itself. Apparently, there is a new drug available, and my doctor would like me to consider trying it. He gave me some literature to take home and asked me to let him know by next week whether I want to give it a try.

The biggest reason he wants me to consider it is the success rate. According to what he told me, about 80 percent of the people who take this drug can be free of the cancer within five years.

Eighty percent.

That’s pretty encouraging.

Then there’s the other 20 percent.

Those are the people who will have to remain on some type of medication for the rest of their lives.

And, knowing my luck, I’ll probably be sitting in the 20 percent section.

I can see it now.

“Congratulations! You have been selected for the premium medication package. Unfortunately, there is no prize.”

Of course, I’m joking…mostly.

There are also some potential side effects that I need to consider. Upon first inspection, there are concerns about pancreatitis, heart problems, and kidney problems.

Unfortunately, those aren’t exactly unfamiliar words to me. Most of these are things that I’m already dealing with or being constantly monitored for.

Apparently, my body likes to keep my doctors employed.

That’s probably one of the reasons I’m hesitant to make a quick decision.

My doctor gave me some literature to take home and read so I can make an informed decision.

I’ll probably need the “Cliff Notes” version to fully understand what I’m reading.

Medical literature has a way of taking something that could probably be explained in three sentences and turning it into twelve pages of words that require a medical degree, a dictionary, and possibly a translator.

I’m sure somewhere in those pages it will say something like, “This medication may cause some serious side effects.”

Then I’ll spend the next three hours wondering if a headache means I’m dying.

On the other hand, the possibility of eventually being free of the cancer is hard to ignore.

I’ve been dealing with this for years, so the thought of taking a different medication with the possibility of reaching that point is certainly appealing.

Now I have a week to read through the information, think about it, and probably drive myself crazy trying to decide what I should do.

I suppose that’s the downside of being given choices.

Sometimes it’s easier when someone else just tells you what to do.

For now, I’m going to read the literature, talk to my doctor if I have questions, and try not to let my imagination get the best of me.

After all, I’ve already spent two hours today worrying about news that turned out not to be bad.

I might as well give my brain a little time off before it starts worrying about the next thing.

And if anyone needs me, I’ll be over here reading my “Cliff Notes”…

assuming I can figure out what the Cliff Notes are saying.