When I came in for my treatment a few weeks ago, I mentioned that I'd been having a mild pain in my back, below my shoulder blade, that didn't seem to be going away. I didn't think it was a big deal, but the doctor informed me that it could be a VERY big deal, because it could in fact be a blood in my lungs, caused by chemo drugs. "Oh," I said. And I would need to have a chest CT scan before my next chemo treatment. "You mean that treatment I'm supposed to have in about an hour?" I said. Yup, that one. So, I traipsed off to the radiology department and sat around for...about five hours. Of course, this would be the chemo that Jenn had decided to do with me, so it figures that it wouldn't go quickly or smoothly! So we went to the hospital, I put on a cold drafty gown, and we sat. For a long time. The nurse fed us graham crackers and peanut butter. Jenn and I laughed at the old men whose gowns didn't cover their asses. We watched terrible television and looked at fashion mags and pictures of Hudson on her iPhone. Finally I had the CT scan, and finally the results came back -- no blood clot! So around 5pm, I was able to have chemo. So, that's all good and well.
Except that the next morning the nurse called to discuss the results with me and said they needed to do some more testing. Apparently I have some little spots in my lungs and some more little spots on my liver. I'm spotty. I actually already knew about the spots on my liver -- they were diagnosed a few years ago as benign hemangiomas, or blood vessel tumors hanging out on my liver. No biggie. But, of course, now the docs want to be sure they haven't changed or grown or turned into something not-so-benign. And the little lung spots are mysterious, as well. So, back to Raleigh for more tests before my next chemo! "You mean the next chemo I'm supposed to have in five days?" Yes, that one. "And I have to come back to Raleigh BEFORE that day to have these tests done?" Yes, you do. "Great." So, hundreds of dollars and many logistical conversations and a few headaches later, I had another plane ticket to Raleigh for a PET CT Scan for Monday. It was Saturday. And I had to return to Raleigh the following Wednesday for chemo. So, this week, I flew from Chicago to Raleigh, Raleigh to East Lansing, East Lansing to Raleigh, and Raleigh to Detroit! And on Monday, I'll fly to IOWA. The fun never stops.
So, the PET CT Scan (which identifies actively producing cancer) went like this: arrive, having not been allowed to eat for many hours before the test, tired, cranky, and starving. Have an IV put in. Have a lot of radioactive sugar injected through that IV to light up my blood vessels like glow-worms. Have the nurse ask me if I'd like some lemonade ("Oh, god, that would be great!"). Find out that the lemonade is spiked with magnetic isotope solution (to light up my guts like glow-worms) and tastes like Draino. Drink a huge cup of it anyway. Lay in a big tube and hold my breath a lot and get shuffled back and forth. Have massive amounts of iodine shot through my veins. Hold my breath some more. Get off the table, get dressed. Feel like puking. Eat a big turkey and cheese sandwich my mommy made me. Feel a little better. Fly to East Lansing.
When I returned on Wednesday, I saw Dr. Blackwell to get my test results and touch base with her. She came in, sat down on the stool, rolllled up next to me, and put her hand on my knee. "Oh Jesus I'm toast," I thought! She was concerned, cautious, but not really "worried," per se. The good news is that the liver spots aren't much different and don't seem to have changed or otherwise reacted in any way to the cancer in the upper half of my bod. The inconclusive news is that the spots on my lungs are no less spotty and no more identified than they were before the test. They did NOT show up as active cancer cells on the PET scan, but they're also too small to really show up even if they were. They're in the lining of my lungs, which is unusual. But, most likely they are totally benign; just more spots in my spotty self. Really the only problem is that we have no previous tests in which these spots are present, so there's no way of knowing if they're new, old, bigger, smaller, pink, or what. So basically, we'll look again in 6 weeks and see what's happening to them, if anything (probably nothing). In the meantime, I was allowed to have my final chemo session. HOWEVER, Doc also wants me to have a brain scan before surgery, as I've been having episodes of light-headedness and have been really motion-sensitive recently (which makes flying tons of fun). SO, next week, I'll fly back to Raleigh, have a brain CT, have an ultrasound of my lymph nodes (routine before surgery), and have my pre-op appointment with my surgeon.
In the meantime, I hope to experience lessening of my heartburn and a continued hair growth on my head, eyelids, and brows. I hope to get some more rest and keep exercising and eat right in preparation for surgery. I hope to start feeling better and better as the toxins slowly leak out of my body from the last chemo and my cells and organs slowly begin to reassert themselves. Have I mentioned that particular chemo drug has to be stored and hung to drip in a glass bottle, because it eats through the plastic pouches that IV drugs are kept in? So I'll be glad when that's not coursing through my veins anymore.
Surgery is March 3rd in Raleigh. 10 days away. More about that soon.