Yesterday I was supposed to start chemo …
Since my operation in May I have been pretty much been living in limbo. It wasn’t so apparent during the first couple of weeks that I was recovering from surgery, but as soon as started feeling better I also started realising that this was just the first step. I still had to find out if the tumour that had been removed (along with a metre of my colon) was malignant and, if so, whether the cancer had spread.
Two weeks ago I was told the tumour was indeed malignant and a week later I had a CT scan to see if I was ‘clean’ or not. And yesterday I found out that I’m not. Or maybe I’m not. The CT scan showed a small lesion in my liver that may or may not be cancerous. [editor’s note: gaaaaaaa!!!]
I was told I would need a PET scan and if the lesion turned out to be malignant I would then require more surgery, followed by chemo. But in the meantime I was still scheduled to start chemo this Friday (I’d put it off for a couple of days so I could meet nursemyra at the airport today without feeling ill). But it still didn’t make sense to start chemo and then stop it for surgery – if it came to that – and then start all over again a few weeks later.
And so I went down to the nuclear medicine department to see about getting a PET scan. Happily I know some people there so it turned out that I can have a PET scan this Saturday and get the results back by Monday (yay!). And when I told my oncologist this she immediately agreed about putting off the chemo till next week, until we find out if I’m going to need more surgery or not.
So if all goes well and I only need the preventative chemo (fingers crossed!) then that will start on the day after daisyfae arrives, which would also be better timing.
Meanwhile, I’m back in limbo.
casa azahar 
the cancer coaster is a most dreadful ride. more twists and turns than the gnarliest rollercoaster imaginable. oh, and it’s like riding in the dark, during a hurricane. backwards…
although the path that got you to this point has been tortuous, the path forward seems logical. GREAT to hear that the PET scan AND RESULTS will at least be done in a timely manner. the waiting is perhaps the darkest.
i will see you next week, and having been down chemo road, would be happy to accompany you to that first treatment if you’d like.
gargantuan hugs coming your way, az… and an assload of Orville Redenbacher’s finest…
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My fingers (and toes!) are crossed for you, too, Az! Wishing you all the best from way over here…I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but you sound like you’ve got some bright spots going on in your life.
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Hey az, fingers crossed here too!
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Strengthening and healing hugs, Az… you can do this and get through this.
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Thought this YouTube link to a brilliant scene from the wonderful Singing Detective, Denis Potter telly drama series, might amuse you, az. Just so you know how it might have been for you going through all this in little ol England…
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=IDOe7Npinl4
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Okay, well, you’re in Limbo for a little while longer, but at least you’re proactively taking control of your options. Good for you for pushing for a faster PET scan and opting to hold the chemo til you have the results.
Big love and positivity from Australia, too!
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Crossed fingers and positive thoughts from Western Australia as well.
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I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I have a good friend, a blacksmith in his mid forties who had bowel cancer. He was fit as a butcher’s dog, and luckily the caught it before it metastisized (is that the right word?).
Three years on and he’s still recovering from the chemo – turned his world upside down – so be prepared little one, it could be a long road.
We’ll be here though so keep on bloggerating.
Blessings,
Craig .
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As Daisyfae said – the gnarliest rollercoaster ride …
:hugs:
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Thanks everyone. Even you, Craig – Mr Positive Thinking Party Pooper… 😉 .
Really it is the not knowing that’s so hard. I was telling this to Pipocas during my appointment on Wednesday when the oncologist (a different woman from the one I first saw) said to me “You have to know that right now is the worst of it, while you are waiting and waiting for results. But once we know what is going on we will be able to make plans, and even if it means more surgery I am confident that the lesion is small and contained, so it will then be a question of just getting through it all step by step and getting healthy again”. Gosh, I hope she’s right.
Oh, and speaking of Pipocas, I just want to say once again that I don’t know what I would have done without her through all of this. She’s been such a rock and has so generously allowed me to depend on her whilst totally undertanding that depending on people is very very hard for me to do. The other day she sent me an email and signed it ‘Sis’ and that made me smile and cry at the same time.
Love ya, Sis. 🙂
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hey, AZ
I am a lurker at gimcrack, Colon C is serious stuff. I am praying for you, or thinking good thoughts, do not want to push anything on you you do not want.
Respects
V
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Thanks for your good thoughts, Vmaximus. I doubt you (or most people) would ever push anything on me as distasteful as this amazingly crass and thoughtless Nigerian scam type email I received the other day. I shall quote it here in full…
The return email address for this so-called person was elenoreply@yahoo.com
What possesses people to do something like this? What if I were all alone and even more scared and emotionally unhinged than I already am? Might I fall for this? Especially with my very real financial problems?
The mind reels . . .
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I don’t get any of that scam stuff — someone must be falling for it, or the scammers would’ve moved on to some other scheme.
I realize you must have gotten your news by now, but I’m still catching up and frankly too chicken to jump ahead. I’m thinking of you every day, and I’m following your progress. You did the right thing, I think, by putting off the chemo a little while longer. One step at a time, dear az.
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