on tuesday, july 7, i had a pet scan, this time at st francis' cancer center. (my insurance changed.) it was very different from hillcrest. (as it is when you move from a hospital set in the seventies, into a a new place with state-of-the-art technology.)
i went in (after paying $100 more than i thought i was going to pay), and was told to go to a room. it had a comfy chair, and a big screen tv... all for me :) they gave me a bottled water, and injected the solution. i rested, watching everything from an old "highway patrol" episode to earring ads on the shopping network.
soon, i was in the pet scan room. instead of a long, claustrophobic tunnel, it was a friendly, cancer-seeking donut that i floated through in about twenty minutes. after that, i walked out the door, looking out at the rain...graham crackers in hand, uncertainty in heart.
on thursday, july 23, i went to my home cancer center. my oncologist was on maternity leave, so i was to see the nurse-practitioner on duty. i came in, after a quick blood scan. a nurse took my vitals, then told me to circle what symptoms i had on a piece of paper full of creative complaints. the nurse told me who i was about to see was big on symptoms. i haloed a few items, and waited.
no one looked at that piece of paper through the entire visit.
the nurse practitioner came in. she cut right to the chase, which made me very grateful. i had a 1.5 cm thing that lit up underneath my arm. she used many complicated words... terms that nurses used to explain things to doctors. i had to ask what every other word meant. i felt stupid, awkward, and very sad. it was hard to hide my fear, but i tried my best.
i was never brave.
i was told that i needed to check my affected area diligently. i was on "watch and wait", a term i always read with trepidation every time i saw it in the cancer books. watch for whatever was out of the ordinary, and report it as soon as possible. if nothing happened, then i would be seen in three months, by my regular oncologist.
be ever diligent.
i left the office in shaky tears. the person i was with didn't know what to say... it was good that nothing was said. empty words don't do much at times like that.
i went home, and tried to forget.
on the 28, early in the morning, the nurse practitioner left me a voicemail message. she told me she wanted to talk to me about my pet scan results. i called her back an hour later. my butt called her two hours later. i called her again to apologize over my butt.
no answer, all day.
i got no sleep, thinking "if she's calling, but not calling back, it isn't important. or, it is, but she's way too busy to call. or....or... or...."
the next day, i checked my charts online. there wasn't anything in the radiology section past the last pet scan. no clue.
at 2:34 pm, she finally called me back. she was full of apologies. she was busy yesterday. to-day, she had child care issues. she was off balanced a bit.... and i was immediately at ease.
no worries. just tell me, i said silently to myself.
she did.
i was told to forget everything i had heard before she had read the wrong pet scan, and was telling me the information that lead to my lumpectomy, instead of the results of the scan taken after the operation.
i was cautiously optimistic.
she told me the good news. i didn't have any light ups. there were swollen areas right where they were supposed to be, in the area where i had my operation. there was a new bit of swelling at the top of my legs, but it wasn't worth any worry.
(i felt foolish. the results she told me should have sounded familiar, but because of the way she communicated, and the pessimistic view i had about the whole thing, i took it as new news. and, to tell you the truth, i'm still acting as if i'm under that "watch and wait" umbrella. maybe that's good. maybe i need to live in caution.)
i was cautiously optimistic.
she told me the good news. i didn't have any light ups. there were swollen areas right where they were supposed to be, in the area where i had my operation. there was a new bit of swelling at the top of my legs, but it wasn't worth any worry.
(i felt foolish. the results she told me should have sounded familiar, but because of the way she communicated, and the pessimistic view i had about the whole thing, i took it as new news. and, to tell you the truth, i'm still acting as if i'm under that "watch and wait" umbrella. maybe that's good. maybe i need to live in caution.)
i still will talk to my oncologist in three months. even with her apologies, the nurse practitioner used words that were long, and hard to understand. she would not say that there wasn't any cancer, only that there weren't any light ups. she had said before that if the cancer wasn't seen in me for two years, that it was a fine sign that it wouldn't return.
i need to check the dates (i really need to write them all down on one post, anyway) but i think i'm close to that mark.
and then i'll be healed.... inside.......
pardon me if i'm still healing, emotion wise.
i have to learn trust again
