Thursday, September 30, 2010

Radioactive Chick!

I'm back from having my PET scan, and I must say it was another adventure in terror.  Ok, no, it wasn't bad at all.  The only terror experienced was all brought to you by the Queen of Neurosis who had apparently escaped from the basement.  She's back in there now, so everthing's fine.

Time for another of the dreaded IV's and this nurse went above the elbow, but she nailed it!  And so far, no marks to show for it.  Next came the radioactive glucose, which was a non-event.  It didn't burn, it didn't hurt, it didn't seem to do anything, although several people have mentioned my healthy ... cough... glow.

Sadly, you have to sit silently for an hour as you wait for said radioactive substance to wander about your body in search of cancer cells.  I hope their search was fruitless, and certainly not fructose.  In any event, I read a book waiting for them to come haul me kicking and screaming into the tube o' torture.

I was deeply disappointed.  The room was bright, and freakishly cheery with its wall of windows and natural light.  The technician tried to put somthing under my head to raise it a bit, because I have such a hard time breathing while laying on my back.  This scan takes 30 minutes... oh lordy.  However, I had used my secret weapon a half hour before being put in the machine:  XANAX!

The technician was kindness itself, trying to ensure I wasn't scared, and making me as comfortable as I could get under the circumstances.  So, back I lay (and if it should be lie, well, poo, but I can't be the perfect grammarian all the time) and the festivities began.

It's a quiet machine, the PET scanner.  I think even quieter than the CT.  And you don't spend the entire 30 minutes with your head in the tube, thank the dieties.  I closed my eyes and began counting, trying not to worry about the immiment arrival of the tube encasing my head.

I was good up until minute 22, when the muscles in my back began to spasm.  But I wasn't about to have to do this again, so I bit the bullet and kept counting because the tube was over my neck and I knew it was getting close to covering my head.

At last, it was over, and Jane, who had accompanied me for moral support, and I decided to stop by Ironwood Cancer and Research center to make an appointment with the oncologist since we were in the area.

Finally, we headed home, but made a stop at Crackers and Co., where I had half a bowl of utterly magnificent poblano corn chower.  It made me very happy.  I think there is going to come a time when I won't be able to eat for quite a while, so I am enjoying every tiny tittilation of my taste buds.

Got home to find the digestive disease doc had called to say that yes, it is definitely esophageal cancer, and he was impressed that I had gotten my PET so quickly.  Hey, MY  PC does not let grass grow under his feet! 

That's enough for today.  I am exhausted.  Hope I can sleep well tonight, and not be bothered by glowing in the dark. ;)

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Scanning for PETs?

I got a call from East Valley Diagnostic Imaging earlier today asking when I wanted to schedule my PET scan.  Well, never, actually, but since it's silly not to accept reality, we scheduled the scan for tomorrow at Noon.

Noon... so why do I have to be there at 10:30 to check in?  Oh because we'll be putting creepy crap into your bloodstream so we can find all the nooks and crannies into which the cancer could be hiding.

I'm like, DUDE!  (ok, really, I have played WOW for too long.)  I've still got the black fist of death from last Friday's IV, and I get to deal with another one tomorrow?  Be still my heart... no not literally, thank you. 

You see, I only have one arm still available for injections, blood pressure, blood draws and IV's, and it's not looking so hot right now, and the last time I was at EVDI for my CT scan, after three tries they gave up on the IV.  So, I face tomorrow wtih a bit of trepidation, but I really, REALLY want to get this part over.  I HAVE TO KNOW!

I went to work today, but I left there a little after 1PM.  I was feeling pretty drained.  I haven't heard any more about my biopsy findings and it's getting on my last nerve.  Oh, but hey, I have my new, exciting bottle of Xanax and I shall take it with me tomorrow, although they tell me the PET is about on a par with the CT scan, and that was fine.  Of course, if this is true, why did they ask if I was claustrophobic?  Hmmm.....

Oh well, I'm too tired to worry about it.  Let's just get it over while I'm in my "oh-I'm-so-stoic!" phase. :)

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

And I get my fresh bottle of Xanax...

I have just returned home from seeing PC, and though the biopsy results were not back yet, we did have a long discussion of treatment options and what my next steps should be.

There is still the slim possibility that this thing is benign.  I like this possibility the most, but alas, in the real world using the word SLIM in this case is not a positive.

Now it's time to assemble the team of doctors once again, with my dear PC playing chief orchestrator.  I've got to get an appointment with the oncologist, the pulmonologist, possibly the cardiologist, and get a PET scan.  I'm tired already.

We'll need a good surgeon, if the pulmo clears me for surgery.  PC says there's a guy in downtown Phoenix that does esophageal surgery in such a way that it's easier on lung patients.  I can't remember the name of the process, though.

Other options are that we go straight to chemo, which PC says for this type of cancer, assuming it's the esophogeal brand, should not have an impact on a patient with severe lung disease.

Happily, I work for a company that allows me the flexibility to work around all these obstacles.  I'm a registered telecommuter, one of the accommodations the company has already made for me due to my lung disease.  My manager says my top priority now is me.  He's a peach.

It's going to be a long year, or so, I think, but in the end, I hope to still be alive and kicking, not to mention EATING!  Where's my crab???

Monday, September 27, 2010

Xanax with a Scotch chaser....

Nah, not really.  I'd just do the Scotch solo. 

But, I did start that swallow awareness stuff at lunch time today, so I decided to call my doc and ask for some Xanax.  I had a 2007 prescription for it, quantity of thirty, of which twenty-seven are still in the bottle.  I would surmise that I'm probably not the type to get addicted to it.

Well, seems the PC (Primary Care) has decided he wants to see me tomorrow, so I'll take him my lovely tumor photos so I can ruin his lunch, too.  My appointment is at 1PM, so hopefully, he'll have the biopsy results back too.  Or... maybe he got them today, and that's why he wants to see me. :P

I got lots of hugs and love at work today, as a good 98% of our site already knows about my diagnosis.  I had called my boss on Friday to tell him of the excitement, and he told two friends, and THEY told two friends... you get my drift.

My dear friend, Linda, in HR said that happily, medical leave is a LOT more simple a transaction than it was in back in the day when I had Breast Cancer (BC).  So, at least that's one less thing about which to stress.

My co-worker, John, who I also think of as the younger brother I never had, and I were having a discussion of my exciting diagnosis, and we shared some jokes and I was feeling much more myself, i.e., able to cope and be the resident Finance comedian.  Of course, in the cube farm in which I work, if you blink, everyone in the aisle and then some can hear you.  So it was no surprise, really, when a lady from Procurement came by to tell me that I was an inspiration. 

HAH, I told her... you didn't see me on Saturday, when I was the queen of neurosis!  I've had time to digest this all, and put the ME back in the equation.  And I'm still the queen of neurosis, but she's currently tied up in the basement ... if I had a basement, that is.

It's just that one thing I learned from my last go-round with cancer is that it's so TIRING to be afraid all the time.  I'm much happier... being .. um... happy.  And I defintely still have the neuroses moments, but I'll have you know I played a good three hours of Dragon Age:  Origins tonight, and never gave my swallower one thought.

So, tomorrow it's off to the PC, and maybe I shall learn my cancer type, stage, etc.  Oh boy.  But, as with the BC, just give me a plan of attack, and I can cope.  It's the unknown that makes me nutso.  Oh, don't you love my acronyms?  Thirty-four years in aerospace... yeah, ... acronyms....

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Gifts

As soon as my sister left the area, I cried in the nurse's arms, and BOY did I cry.  I told her I didn't think I could do it again.  You see, I had breast cancer and got through that pretty darned well, but it's not easy.

Now, I'm a few years older, and my lungs are a bit worse for wear, and I just felt defeated.  But of course, the news was still raw and I hadn't had a chance to digest it.  All I felt was just the depths of fear that can choke the life out of you.  But Jane, my sister, was coming back, so I had to stop crying and put on my coping face.

Most of Friday I worked on trying to keep the fear from making me insane.  Normally, I would have gone and researched this diagnosis, but I wouldn't go near the healthcare sites.  I was way too afraid they would tell me I could kiss my tookus goodbye.  Besides, until the biopsy results show up, it's all just speculation.  Do I need to make myself feel worse than I already do by reading things that will scare me until I cower under my sheet in abject misery?  Well, no.  I have Ally to kill.. but that's another story.

Saturday was a long day.  I had gone to bed really early on Friday, so I was awake at six-ish, and made coffee.  I then spent most of Saturday wondering how everything I ate or drank was making its way past the huge alien in my chest.  Oooh, that's not a good place to go:  Aliens... chest... John Hurt... but I digress.

The worst part of Saturday was being aware of swallowing.  I mean HYPER aware.  I'm a very severe asthmatic, and I have had problems with anxiety most of my life, but I have mostly been able to work on my breathing rhythms to keep the major panic attacks at bay.  But if there is one thing this alien HAS done, it's made me not so aware of my breathing. 

I'm an analyst; business/finance analyst, and I rely on data, I obsess about data.  So, when it comes to health, I have to have data.  I measure my lungs usually once a day, and pop the findings into a massive spreadsheet that goes back to 2004 when things started to really get bad lung-wise.  I haven't blown into my peak flow meter in days.  And really, I think I'm about par for where I have been of late.  Crappy. 

But this morning, Sunday, I woke to an insanely bright day.  There was a beautiful breeze which lured me outside, and there I found my hibiscus blooming crazily and I thought, wow, what a gift this day is!  And voila!  My appreciation was back.  That's what keeps me going; appreciation. 

Such as, my baby sister, Wendy, who calls me every single day and never fails to help me keep my perspective from tilting.  And my sisters that came to live with me several years ago, when our mom's health was failing and my lungs were crapping out.  Jane's out there making me beef barley soup and the scent is warm and loving and frankly quite yummy.  And today, the outlook on life is just somehow brighter and tomorrow I'll go to work, and be all normal, and when the biopsy data comes and we decide what we have to do, I'll do it.  It'll probably all suck, but I'll do it, because eventually, my appreciation will return and I'll find all these wonderful gifts once again.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

I was fine, until they told me I was sick....

I had some abdominal pain, and it wouldn't go away, so I saw my doc and he sent me for a CT scan.  It said there was a bit of 'thickening' where the esophagus met the stomach.  Thickening... hmmm.

So, doc sent me to a gastroenterologist who performed both an upper and a lower endoscopy yesterday. 

I hate the thought of hospitals.  So, naturally, I was terrified for the whole two or so weeks waiting for these procedures to be done.  And, as always happens when I let myself be taken over by fear, the actuality was no problem at all.  My amazing nurse got the IV in FIRST TIME!  (My veins suck from years of steroid use.)  The anesthesiologist was a peach; when I was coming out of the joy juice, I never once felt nausea.

Gastro came to tell me the results; a few polyps, removed and most likely benign, and then the whopper:  Esophageal Cancer.

I confess right now that I am probably the biggest coward on the face of the planet.  AND, I always anticipate the worst possible outcome for any situation.  Yet, people who know me would describe me as an exceptionally happy person and eternally optimistic.  Can I be both of these?  Yes, because I am!  Hmm, I wonder if this means I'm actually manic/depressive.  Must find a good therapist.

But I just landed in Honor Hold (yeah, I rolled an Ally just to see how the other half lives... FOR THE HORDE!) so, I'll get back to this another time.

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