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… it’s gonna be a looooong night.
22 Thursday Jan 2015
Posted in health & happiness, home, hospitals
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… it’s gonna be a looooong night.
19 Monday Jan 2015
Posted in cancer, health & happiness, hospitals
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It’s gonna be a fun three days… and then I get a tube up me bum. I didn’t actually remember following this diet the last time I had a colonoscopy (but apparently I did). Though I seemed less informed back then than this time (no red meats, etc). Also, I’m not on chemo this time! But the weird thing is that it’s been almost six years since my last colonoscopy, which is, well, weird. I can’t seem to get a straight answer from my “substitute” oncologist, but it looks like they just forgot to do this on a more regular basis. And so … this Friday I am having the nasty done once again and will see the oncologist on February 4th to get the results. And finally – I hope – I’ll find out what the new plan is for me. PET scans every year? Every 8-10 months? I’m also still waiting to get the chemo port out, but I understand that those waiting to have one put in have priority, and rightly so.
On the bright side, I will probably lose a kilo or two over the next few days. Tip of the iceberg, I know, but better than nothing…
12 Monday Jan 2015

This photo was taken in May 2009 showing off my brand new chemo port. I remember how happy I was that they fit me in for this procedure before I had to resume chemo. Memories of collapsed veins and painful arms and hands…
Today I went for my monthly port cleaning and, while nothing wrong with that, I’d hoped that by now they’d have taken the darn thing out already. When I joined the five year club in November it felt like onwards and upwards. But I’m still waiting to have this thing removed, and I also need to have a colonoscopy this month (the 23rd) before the oncologist decides on what my future monitoring will be. PET scans every year? Every 8 months? We shall see.
Anyhow, I got a taxi over to the hospital this morning (a luxury I allow myself as I really HATE going to the hospital, so at least I can go in style and hang the expense). I was running a bit late today, though I got there at 12.40 (port cleaning hour is between 12 and 1 o’clock) and suddenly there was Manolo standing in the doorway when I skidded to a stop, arms crossed, tapping one foot, giving me The Look. So I said “WHAT? I still have 20 minutes!!” and then Manolo broke into a huge smile and led me to The Chair.
The procedure only takes about five minutes, but sometimes the port doesn’t cooperate and then I worry about blood clots or the nurse pushing air into my veins (I do, seriously). My favourite nurses are Manolo and Macarena. The latter because she is totally no-nonsense and the former because he always makes me laugh. Plus they are skilled at doing this – trust me, when I get a newbie I am a nervous wreck. Anyhow, there was Manolo scolding me for coming at the last minute, and I told him he was going to miss me after they take the port out. “Who else is always going to remind you to take care of the air bubbles??” I asked him. At which point Manolo burst into song, apparently something from his native Córdoba about a difficult “niña” (who, me?) …. and then it was done.
Then another nurse poked her head around the corner and said “another port cleaning!”. And I said to Manolo – “HA! I was not the last one and I expect you to scold this other latecomer as much as you scolded me!” I even made sure. As I was walking out and the other woman was walking in, I turned to Manolo and gave him the hand slicing gesture, winked at the woman, and Manolo went into full Manolo mode saying “what do you mean showing up at this time? you always get here LATE!” and we were all laughing. So I ended up leaving and really hoping it was going to be my last port cleaning, but also knowing I was going to miss Manolo.
28 Tuesday Oct 2014

Today marked a very important milestone for me. I had my “5th anniversary” PET scan – which came back clear! – marking five cancer-free years (I finished my last chemo at the end of July 2009). I almost couldn’t believe it when Pilar texted me while I was out having coffee, saying that everything was okay. In fact, I burst into tears. This one is a game-changer. I won’t know exactly what they have in store for me now until I see the oncologist again next month, but today should be the last of the every-six-month PET scans (will switch to either once a year or possible every 10 months) and I will finally be able to get the chemo port out. That last one will be a relief and I won’t have to make my monthly visit to the hospital to get the thing cleaned out. So it’s all good. I mean, I’m not “out of the woods” yet. The 5-year mark is kind of random and my case is more baffling than anything. Most stage-IV people don’t stay in remission for this long. But hey, I’ve made it this far and at least for now I am fine, so it really does feel like a fresh start.
As always I want to thank my amazing Nuclear Medicine team – Pilar and Isabel (Ricardo retired last year) – and also all of you for being there with me through all of this. You can all take the next year off. 😉
A side note: October 28th is the saint day of Santo Judas Tadeo (Jude the Apostle) patron saint of lost causes. Coincidence?
23 Tuesday Sep 2014
Posted in cancer, health & happiness, home, hope, hospitals

The windows in the oncology waiting room are the one source of beauty there. I had to go see my oncologist to set up my next PET scan and was surprised to find out she wasn’t back yet. In fact, I haven’t seen her for about a year, but put that down to her being out of town or otherwise busy whenever my routine check-ups came around. Since I get my PET scan results in the same day as the test I don’t need that follow-up appointment afterwards.
Well, not only did I find out that Dr Ana wasn’t there, but I was also told she might not be coming back. Turns out she had cancer (!!!) and although she seems to be physically recovered now it looks like she isn’t psychologically well enough to resume her duties. So I had a chat with the new guy and was impressed that he’d read my file and seemed to know my whole story. I told him that both Dr Ana and Ricardo had recommended I do the PET scans every six months for 5 years (after finishing my last chemo) and this guy agreed that this was a good thing to do. Though he did surprise me – when I suggested I might also get the chemo port removed – by saying I could have had it taken out ages ago. When I asked him the obvious, he said if the cancer comes back they’d just put in another one. Well!
So I am now waiting to find out when the next PET scan will be. If all goes well I should be getting the port out soon and will be able to stop living within six-month segments of time. Meanwhile, I keep on working and playing as best I can.