Scanxiety

 Week three, or the week I'll at some point start chemo again, was filled with anxiety. They were going to rescan me to see if chemo was working or not. That meant a few things…

One, I had to get back into that machine. I hate that machine and I think maybe, it hates me, too. Two, it meant it was finally time to see "Bertha" again. She scared me. She was silent but she stole a good chunk of my body without me even knowing. What else could she do? All the "what ifs" started to flood my brain. No matter how much distraction I had my brain was almost always whirling with negative what if's. I prayed more and harder than I'd ever prayed to please just help me with my anxiety and give me strength. After all, I couldn't change anything. Whatever was or was not happening I was going to have to deal with so why worry about it until I talked to my doctor. Yes, logical me was trying to push her way forward but the scared me was winning…

My mom was going to take me to my first scan. She picked me up and drove me to my appointment. Because of an accident with my Covid test earlier in the week at Red Wing Clinic I had to re-do my Covid test up at Rochester. I stopped and got that done before hurrying up to my MRI appointment. I checked in and took a seat in the waiting room with my mom. 

I was getting super nervous. Behind those doors were rooms where I'd be gowning up to go lay in that machine again. The machine that looked inside me to see my enemy. My mom trying to keep me calm asked if I wanted to play cribbage. We took out our phones and played a round. She won, like (almost) always. Then I heard my name called. I was sweating and trying to keep my nerves in check. They got me into the little cubicle room where I changed into the big blue gown, paper mask, and grippy hospital socks. The nurse came to ask the usual questions and started my IV. Just as she was about to leave I said, "We've been back here a while, could someone please tell my mom I'm just heading back and how long it will take so she doesn't worry about me?" The flood gates opened again. I was tearing up in front of this complete stranger for seemingly no reason. Well, no reason for her. Then I started to sob uncontrollably. She asked with a sympathizing tone, "do you want me to get your mom? She can stay with you until they bring you back?" I could only nod. 

Within moments my mom was back there. She set down her things and hugged me. I hugged her back and said, "I wish I was stronger. I don't want to do this, I don't want to go in there. I'm not strong enough for all of this." My mom followed with a few positive words before the tech came back to get me. I tried hard to stop crying. The tech made small talk until we got into the room with the MRI machine.

As stupid as it sounds I didn’t want the machine to know I was scared of it. So, I pulled myself together and laid down on the table while they placed the arched cage thing over my abdomen. The table slid inside the noisy metal tube and began to scan me. It clicked, beeped, and clanked with each scan. I kept my eyes closed most of the time and tried to picture I was anywhere else. Mostly I envisioned I was in a space shuttle. Seemed fitting. I started to get really hot. I was starting to wonder if I was in here longer than the other times. It felt that way. 

The tech paused and slid the table out so he could put the dye in my IV for the rest of the scans. He said in passing, "the doctors are already looking at your scans." I said that was good and wondered if I'd get my results today instead of tomorrow as I was very nervous and why I was nervous. He replied, "Oh, I wish I could give your results but I'm not sure what they're liking or not liking about your scans."  

That told me that the doctors were not only looking at my scans but requesting more views of "Bertha." This made my anxiety spike more. Had something happened? Did it grow, did it spread, why was this taking so much longer!? Luckily, after the contrast dye, there was only about another 15 minutes' worth of being in that machine. 

I got out, dressed quickly, and as I passed through the waiting room doors my mom was at the desk having the gal call back to check on me. So, I wasn't wrong in thinking it was taking much longer than they originally had said. 

That night I didn't sleep much though I was extremely exhausted mentally from my anxiety taking hold of me. My husband and I got up at 5:30 the next morning to drive back up to Rochester for another day of test, scans, results, and chemo. My blood test went quickly, my chest CT did, too, then we waited about two hours for the important part. My doctor's appointment to see whether or not the chemo was working and what we would be doing going forward. 

I tried to keep my mind occupied as best I could but my heart was racing, I was sweating, and felt like I was starting to suffocate. I've realized that I now must have some form of PTSD from all of this. I get more and more tense as I near my doctor's appointment and by the time I'm in the room I'm shaking and crying. My whole body feels like it's vibrating and numb at the same time. 

Once back in the room, a nurse comes in and asks about my symptoms from my chemo, called "Trabectadin." She takes down some notes and leaves. This calms my nerves a bit. I think to myself that I must get to continue using this kind if she's asking me about it and giving advice on how to combat some symptoms going forward. Shortly after she leaves my doctor comes in and sits down. She asks how I'm doing and explain that besides this very moment where I'm ready to vomit I've been great. Pain has been very minimal and sleeps has been great. Best I've felt in a long time. She smiled and said, "That's good… because it's good! It's shrinking, it's getting smaller." 

I felt like every single nerve in my body melted away and I may have squealed? I asked if I could put on a glove and high five her to which she said, "of course you can!" She then pulled up a picture of "Bertha" before chemo and one from my scan the day before. She said that most of my shrinkage was in my abdominal area (which isn't ideal for me but I'll take it!!!) but that it was in fact noticeable. I debated on taking a picture of the side by side comparison she showed me but to be honest, Bertha still scares me and I want to see as little of her as humanly possible. I was very excited. This meant a lot of good things for now. 

Doctor Amy said that we would do another two rounds of chemo and scan again but that this third round would be delayed again because my bloodwork was again not good enough to start. She set up a new potential start date for the following Tuesday. Though I was bummed to be delayed again I was THRILLED with the news and actually looking forward to enjoying one more decent weekend before starting again. Being delayed this time actually meant that I'd be feeling ok for the Fourth of July as well which was also nice so I could spend a nice holiday with the kids. Something wonderful to look forward to!

Another victory in my journey was celebrated this weekend. I'm still in disbelief. I'm so fortunate for these results. I'm so grateful for the support system I have. I know a lot of my healing and positivity through this is because of you. I hope you know how much you mean to me through this and how awesome it is to share this news with you! I hope you all celebrate this, too!