Behan here...wishing I'd thought to ask her first, but suspect Joan would want the word out to readers here that surgery went smoothly today. To my surprise, she was able to get on the phone with me just a few hours later and even crack a joke! She's expected to go home from the hospital tomorrow (tangent: how is it that a major surgery like hers can only warrant insurance coverage of only ONE DAY in the hospital? how?). I'm sure she'll be posting here herself before long- meanwhile, rest easy as I am knowing another major milestone in her journey has past.
Peace, Behan
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Happy Day
Today was a good day. It didn't start out that way. It's still freezing in the Northwest and the day started out gray and cold. I had to go into Seattle early for various doctor's appointments and a PET scan. Rainer, my mom and my niece went with me, we all were nervous and scared.
I had my thing with the PET Scan for a couple of hours. Then Rainer and I went to lunch and to wait. My mom and niece played tourist for a couple of hours and then met us for more waiting. I had a pre-op appointment with my surgeon. I’m going to have my mastectomy next Tuesday and he wanted to go through what to expect. He didn’t have the test results yet, so I moved on to my appointment with my oncologist. We waited more. Do you know how slow time moves sometimes. Finally we met with my oncologist. He asked how I was doing, we talked about my probable ulcer that I have developed, and he prescribed some medication. And finally, the big question came……do you have my test results. He said no, but he’d run downstairs and see what the radiologist had to report. He left and we waited more, my mom, Rainer and I huddled into a tiny patient room.
And that’s when it became a happy day. My oncologist came back with good news. The breast cancer in my sternum was cold and the bone was beginning to re-calcify. The cancer in my breast had gone from an activity level of 11 to a level of 3. This was good news. I was winning the fight against a dreaded enemy. My mom was ecstatic, Rainer smiled and the heaviness in my heart became a little be lighter. And believe it or not, the sun came out in Seattle and it started to warm up.
I’m not dead yet, I kept saying over and over. Who’d a thought? I still have chemo sickness, a probable ulcer, the mastectomy and more chemo….but I for a little bit I was happy.
It was a good day……..
p.s. A special hug to another incredible woman fighting her battle against her dreaded enemy. She is a friend of my mom’s and has been an inspiration to me. Her name is Sandy. Her battle isn’t going well and she has fought with super human strength. I don’t know her, but I love her. I hope all will pray for her and that because of her I will win my battle.
I had my thing with the PET Scan for a couple of hours. Then Rainer and I went to lunch and to wait. My mom and niece played tourist for a couple of hours and then met us for more waiting. I had a pre-op appointment with my surgeon. I’m going to have my mastectomy next Tuesday and he wanted to go through what to expect. He didn’t have the test results yet, so I moved on to my appointment with my oncologist. We waited more. Do you know how slow time moves sometimes. Finally we met with my oncologist. He asked how I was doing, we talked about my probable ulcer that I have developed, and he prescribed some medication. And finally, the big question came……do you have my test results. He said no, but he’d run downstairs and see what the radiologist had to report. He left and we waited more, my mom, Rainer and I huddled into a tiny patient room.
And that’s when it became a happy day. My oncologist came back with good news. The breast cancer in my sternum was cold and the bone was beginning to re-calcify. The cancer in my breast had gone from an activity level of 11 to a level of 3. This was good news. I was winning the fight against a dreaded enemy. My mom was ecstatic, Rainer smiled and the heaviness in my heart became a little be lighter. And believe it or not, the sun came out in Seattle and it started to warm up.
I’m not dead yet, I kept saying over and over. Who’d a thought? I still have chemo sickness, a probable ulcer, the mastectomy and more chemo….but I for a little bit I was happy.
It was a good day……..
p.s. A special hug to another incredible woman fighting her battle against her dreaded enemy. She is a friend of my mom’s and has been an inspiration to me. Her name is Sandy. Her battle isn’t going well and she has fought with super human strength. I don’t know her, but I love her. I hope all will pray for her and that because of her I will win my battle.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Big Day
Tomorrow’s a big day. No it’s not my mastectomy, but I’m going in for a pre-surgery consul and I’m going to have a PET scan. The PET Scan is what makes it a big day. What’s a PET scan you’re asking yourself and scratching your head? When you have cancer you learn more about medicine that you ever knew before in you life and sometimes wish you didn’t have to know.
A PET scan is similar to an MRI, yes they stuff you into a tiny tube and you have to stay in there forever. However, it’s the best way doctors can find the cancer, see how big the cancer is and make a proper diagnosis. The pain in the butt thing is that before you have the PET scan you have to go on a special diet. All you can eat prior to the PET scan is protein and water for 48 hours. So basically you eat meat and hard cheese and drink water for two whole what seems like long, never ending days. No sugar, no carbohydrates, notta. No pasta, no sodas, no double espresso with whip cream and caramel sauce, no pasta carbonara, no creamy buttery mashed potatoes. Just meat and cheese. Of course, your body goes through withdrawals from having no sugar and carbohydrates and you feel like you are dying. Once you get to the hospital for the scan, they isolate you in a small room and you just lay there for two hours. They want your muscles to be asleep from no activity. Then they pump you full of sucrose, put you on a thin table and stuff you into a tiny, extremely loud tube for 45 minutes to 1 ½ hours. Did you know that cancer hates protein and loves sugar and carbohydrates? The cancer goes on a crazy feeding frenzy and on the scan lights up like a Christmas tree. My doctors will immediately know how big or small my cancer is, if it has spread, or if it’s dying on the vine.
Of course, I’m hoping the cancer is dying on the vine – but I have to be prepared for the worst and hope for the best. It’s a scary thing that I am going to find out tomorrow. I find out if I’m still on the cancer path of dying or if I’m on the good path of living. Or I could find out that the waters are murky and I’m going to have to keep on swimming until I can make my own path, which would be the most frustrating thing I could find out. I’m a serious type A person and need to know where I am going.
My mom (who’s back for a short while) and Rainer are going with me. They are just as scared as I am and we will all be holding hands as we find out what is happening. But at least now I’ll know something….hopefully my path will be better…..but I’ll have to wait and see.
A PET scan is similar to an MRI, yes they stuff you into a tiny tube and you have to stay in there forever. However, it’s the best way doctors can find the cancer, see how big the cancer is and make a proper diagnosis. The pain in the butt thing is that before you have the PET scan you have to go on a special diet. All you can eat prior to the PET scan is protein and water for 48 hours. So basically you eat meat and hard cheese and drink water for two whole what seems like long, never ending days. No sugar, no carbohydrates, notta. No pasta, no sodas, no double espresso with whip cream and caramel sauce, no pasta carbonara, no creamy buttery mashed potatoes. Just meat and cheese. Of course, your body goes through withdrawals from having no sugar and carbohydrates and you feel like you are dying. Once you get to the hospital for the scan, they isolate you in a small room and you just lay there for two hours. They want your muscles to be asleep from no activity. Then they pump you full of sucrose, put you on a thin table and stuff you into a tiny, extremely loud tube for 45 minutes to 1 ½ hours. Did you know that cancer hates protein and loves sugar and carbohydrates? The cancer goes on a crazy feeding frenzy and on the scan lights up like a Christmas tree. My doctors will immediately know how big or small my cancer is, if it has spread, or if it’s dying on the vine.
Of course, I’m hoping the cancer is dying on the vine – but I have to be prepared for the worst and hope for the best. It’s a scary thing that I am going to find out tomorrow. I find out if I’m still on the cancer path of dying or if I’m on the good path of living. Or I could find out that the waters are murky and I’m going to have to keep on swimming until I can make my own path, which would be the most frustrating thing I could find out. I’m a serious type A person and need to know where I am going.
My mom (who’s back for a short while) and Rainer are going with me. They are just as scared as I am and we will all be holding hands as we find out what is happening. But at least now I’ll know something….hopefully my path will be better…..but I’ll have to wait and see.
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