Scan Results

I was a ball of nerves. I literally felt like I was buzzing but I kept my composure. Even through the roughly one-hour scan (the one I was dreading doing again), they wanted to look at all my bones to make sure there was no spread. I did not want to go in that tube and this time I had to be all the way in and caged to the table. I don't know how else to describe it but after they laid me down on the scan table they locked me, piece by piece, with these cage-like sections. All the way up over my head. For whatever reason, I thought of the movie "Man in the Iron Mask." I tried very hard to just fall asleep. Obviously, that didn't work, so I just tried to assure myself. "You made it this far without flipping out. You made it through ten minutes, only twenty or so left. You can do this." I managed. 

Next, I went on to have an echocardiogram. Not that this test was overly difficult or scary per se it was definitely still a bit nerve-wracking. I laid on my side on an exam table with the gown open in the front. A tech sat at my back, reaching over me to use an ultrasound want to look at my heart. This went on for about two hours. I felt very silly laying there with my chest "hanging out to dry" if you will. Luckily, the tech had a trainee with her, too. It was very comfortable. Haha. As I was laying there, hoping to put my chesticles away soon, a lady knocked on the door to tell me that I needed to head upstairs after my bloodwork to see my regular chemo doctor. 

I immediately began to panic internally. Why did she want to see me? This was not part of my schedule today. She must have the results from my bone MRI scan back. Serious dread flooded my body. 

I just want to wake up from this bad dream. That's honestly what it feels like. A bad dream. You keep thinking any moment you might wake up and someone will tell you, it's ok, it was all a bad dream. You're fine. Obviously, that's not what's happening, this is legit and people go through this every day all across the world. My heart aches knowing what I know now. The fear, anxiety, and dread that comes with a cancer diagnosis.

I hustled down after finally being able to stuff myself back into clothes to get my blood drawn and practically ran up to the tenth floor to see my doctor. I was buzzing again and the pit in my stomach was opening into a deep dark void. 

I checked in and waited what felt like hours though I think it was closer to forty-five minutes. We were escorted back to the room. The last time I was in a room like this they told me bad things. Very bad things. Immediately after sitting down, I started to shake. Not shake like I was having a seizure, shaking like I was freezing and my body was trying frantically to warm itself back up. My eyes welled up and I couldn't hold back the flood gates anymore. My poor husband grabbed me and told me it was going to be ok, we would figure it all out no matter what she said. He was anxious, too. I could tell because he wouldn't quit tapping his leg or his finger, fidgeting constantly. 

Soon enough my doctor came in with a great big excited, "HI! I just couldn't resist seeing you for even a day so I thought I'd set this up while you were here." I really do love her, she's a wonderful person and I'm so grateful for her. She could tell I was a nervous wreck so got right to it. "We got your scans from the bone MRI back and they're clear, nothing else was seen anywhere." I'm not sure if I've been "ecstatic" before but at this moment I truly was. I instantly cried tears of joy and yelled "YES!" while doing the air arm motion that every basketball player does when they pull off a good play. "Yeah, I wanted to tell you that in person." She said with a smile. Obviously, she was wearing a mask but I could tell by her eyes she was happy to give someone good news. 

Can you imagine a job like hers? How much bad news does she deliver on a daily basis? But sometimes, she gets to give people the best news! I may have told her multiple times how much she meant to me and how wonderful she was. 

She went on to tell me about a clinical trial for radiation they are doing in Iowa. It's radiation that involves high doses of IV Vitamin C. I am curious about trying it at some point but I'm just not sure how I could go to Iowa as it would involve me going there for five weeks. Radiation would be five days a week for five weeks. I do think if I can make it happen, I'd like to do it. I spoke with the medical oncologist about this opportunity and will probably get more information about it in the future when I'm ready to start the radiation portion of my treatment. 

I cannot tell you how much today meant! Though there is still a long, scary road ahead of me, this was a victory! I celebrated with ice cream from Flapdoodles on our way back home. This was the best news and outcome I could have received today! I really am grateful for a good day!