Moving Forward

This week started with a bang as I went on Tuesday to have a PET scan. This involved being injected with a radioactive sugar, sitting for an hour, then laying in a tube for most of another hour. I came home from this not feeling relaxed and happy from my vacation, but feeling again like a cancer patient. ARGH!

On Wednesday, I had a pretty good day, but had to take Andrew downtown to the library in the afternoon for a class he is taking. That meant I was on the go all day, no rest. By the time we got home at 4:00, I was a mess. I couldn't move and feel asleep in the chair. I woke up from the nap, realized I still couldn't move and would have to cancel my plans for the evening. That made me absolutely furious. I was mad, so mad, that I couldn't do what I wanted to do any more. I was angry that I was going to have to have radiation. I was tired of being sick and on Wednesday, I had just had enough.

This might not have been the best frame of mind to enter Thursday when I was going to see both oncologist and the radiology oncologist. I was definitely agitated. When the nurse checked my blood pressure, it was so high she asked what Paul had done to me on the way in to make me upset. I quickly removed the blame from him, but I was still worked up.

When we finally got to see the oncologist, he was smiling. This is rare because he is a very, very serious man. He proclaimed my scan to be "unremarkable". Don't you love that word? I have never in my life been so happy to be unremarkable. It has been a while since any doctor called any test of mine unremarkable. They always start the conservation with "let's discuss a few things..." Unremarkable was way, way better. (Thank you to all of you who were praying about this. What an awesome answer to the prayers!)

We also met with the radiology oncologist to get set for radiation. The next question is if your scan showed you to be cancer free, why do you still have to have radiation? Good question. The scan can only pick up visible chucks of cancer. However, if even a tiny, microscopic bit of cancer cell is left alive it can grow into a big, bad tumor. The radiation is delivered locally (only at the site of the original cancer) to ensure that all tiny spots (that is, of course, the technical term) are killed.

I have a simulation to get all set up for radiation on Tuesday. I prefer to think of this as tattoo day. Then we will start the next week. The doctor told me I would need six weeks of radiation. Actually, it is 34 treatments. I get treatment Monday through Friday. 34 treatments...you do the math. According to my third grade math skills that is not six weeks, it is seven. Another instance when I have caught my oncologist lying. I called him out on this yesterday, but I realize when he tells me the best case scenario and glosses over the side effects it is probably for my own good. Still, in any other conditions, we would call this lying!

After I called him on the carpet for lying, I asked the oncologist what I should do now. How should I live so that I don't have to come back and do this again? I was fully prepared to get a speech about diet and exercise. Nope. He said, "You need to go out and live your life, know that the doctors have done everything possible for you and trust God for the rest." Great answer. I am definitely going to follow that advice.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13