A Lot Has Happened, part 2
At the same time as I was dealing with the increased CA125 results and the question of when to have ovarian surgery, I also noticed that I was having back pain. I have a desk job, so neck pain or muscle soreness from sitting at the computer all day isn't unheard of, but this pain seemed different. It was in a different spot, lower than the stiff neck I've had in the past, but much higher than the lower back pain I had in high school. And stretching and massage didn't seem to help.
A few weeks later I started my new job, where I continue to sit at a computer all day. I kept thinking that my chair must be ergonomically out of whack and if I could just get it adjusted properly my pain would go away. And then I'd remember that I had had the pain at my old job, at my old desk that had never caused pain before.
Once you've had cancer, every little bump or "unexplained" symptom makes you think the cancer has come back. I have had a couple of appointments with my oncologist where I would ask about a cough or a lump, and my doctor would always say that he wasn't overly concerned, but to let him know if it hadn't cleared up in a few more months. So I felt a little silly mentioning this back pain. But after I had had it for more than two months, without any improvement, I decided to email my oncology nurse navigator.
Nurse navigators help you make your way throughout the cancer care system, helping to coordinate your care between many clinics, procedures, tests, etc. JoAnn is so great at fielding my questions and making sure requests for little things like prescription renewals get answered. I fully expected to hear back that my doctor wasn't worried about a little back pain, but to let him know if I was still having issues in a couple of months. However, this time, they wanted to know if I'd like to be referred to an orthopedic surgeon for evaluation or if I'd like to have some imaging done.
I chose the imaging, since the thing I really wanted to rule out was a recurrence of cancer. I was set up for a CT scan on Friday, June 26, and a bone scan the following Monday. Within hours of my CT scan, my doctor called. I missed his call and as I was returning it, noticed that I had received an automated notice that I had a new appointment set up for Tuesday. I was already scheduled for an appointment with my doctor the week after that, so I had a bad feeling that they had found something on my scan. Once I reached my doctor, he said that there was a spot on my T3 vertebrae that he was worried about, but we would know more after the bone scan and would discuss everything in my appointment on Tuesday, June 30 (the day before my ovarian surgery).
Since I work for the medical center, I have access to my own medical record (that policy has since changed - boo). Monday morning, I immediately pulled up my chart to see what the CT results were. "Osseous metastasis in the T3 vertebral body," "pathologic fracture," "significant results of this study discussed with Dr. X by telephone." I may not be a nurse or a doctor, but I know clinical vocabulary and have a good command of Google (haha), and all of those phrases add up to CANCER. I got further confirmation from my bone scan results: "Markedly increased radiotracer activity within the T3 vertebral body, corresponding to the patient's T3 metastatic bone lesion with pathologic fracture as seen on the CT chest exam."
I met with my doctor on Tuesday, as scheduled. He said there is a "very small" chance that what everyone saw on my scans could be something other than cancer and he ordered a biopsy of that part of my spine. The biopsy will confirm the cancer and will also provide information about it, such as whether or not it is hormone receptor positive, like it was the last time. Knowing the genetic specifics of the cancer allows them to prescribe treatments specifically targeted at those properties.
Once cancer has spread beyond the original site, it is no longer considered curable. There are many treatments that we will try. When one fails (meaning the cancer spreads to new sites or grows larger on existing sites), I will stop that treatment and try the next option. I will continue this until there are no longer any treatments left to try.
A lot of cancer "awareness" campaigns talk about "fighting," "beating it," "winning." But that looks a lot different when the diagnosis is metastatic/advanced/stage 4 breast cancer. The "fighting" doesn't end until your life does, and "winning" means finding a treatment that keeps your cancer from spreading for as long as possible, while still allowing you to feel well enough to maintain some kind of quality of life.
This is not my official diagnosis yet. I will see my oncologist on Thursday for the final results from my biopsy and we'll know for sure then. I am reminded of a study of the book of Daniel that we did in my Bible study group last year. King Nebuchadnezzar builds this ridiculous golden statue of himself and makes a law that everyone must bow down to it or die. Of course, Daniel and his other Jewish friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego serve Yahweh and cannot bow down to any other god. So Nebuchadnezzar tells them that he is going to throw them into the fiery furnace if they will not relent. And their response is this: "King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Dan. 3:16-18).
So I say with those men, if I am thrown into the fiery furnace of terminal cancer, the God I serve is able to deliver me. But even if he does not, I will not lose faith, I will not turn to place my trust in other things. No matter what, I will ultimately be delivered. As Paul said: "I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:20-21). Please strengthen me with your prayers.
A few weeks later I started my new job, where I continue to sit at a computer all day. I kept thinking that my chair must be ergonomically out of whack and if I could just get it adjusted properly my pain would go away. And then I'd remember that I had had the pain at my old job, at my old desk that had never caused pain before.
Once you've had cancer, every little bump or "unexplained" symptom makes you think the cancer has come back. I have had a couple of appointments with my oncologist where I would ask about a cough or a lump, and my doctor would always say that he wasn't overly concerned, but to let him know if it hadn't cleared up in a few more months. So I felt a little silly mentioning this back pain. But after I had had it for more than two months, without any improvement, I decided to email my oncology nurse navigator.
Nurse navigators help you make your way throughout the cancer care system, helping to coordinate your care between many clinics, procedures, tests, etc. JoAnn is so great at fielding my questions and making sure requests for little things like prescription renewals get answered. I fully expected to hear back that my doctor wasn't worried about a little back pain, but to let him know if I was still having issues in a couple of months. However, this time, they wanted to know if I'd like to be referred to an orthopedic surgeon for evaluation or if I'd like to have some imaging done.
I chose the imaging, since the thing I really wanted to rule out was a recurrence of cancer. I was set up for a CT scan on Friday, June 26, and a bone scan the following Monday. Within hours of my CT scan, my doctor called. I missed his call and as I was returning it, noticed that I had received an automated notice that I had a new appointment set up for Tuesday. I was already scheduled for an appointment with my doctor the week after that, so I had a bad feeling that they had found something on my scan. Once I reached my doctor, he said that there was a spot on my T3 vertebrae that he was worried about, but we would know more after the bone scan and would discuss everything in my appointment on Tuesday, June 30 (the day before my ovarian surgery).
Since I work for the medical center, I have access to my own medical record (that policy has since changed - boo). Monday morning, I immediately pulled up my chart to see what the CT results were. "Osseous metastasis in the T3 vertebral body," "pathologic fracture," "significant results of this study discussed with Dr. X by telephone." I may not be a nurse or a doctor, but I know clinical vocabulary and have a good command of Google (haha), and all of those phrases add up to CANCER. I got further confirmation from my bone scan results: "Markedly increased radiotracer activity within the T3 vertebral body, corresponding to the patient's T3 metastatic bone lesion with pathologic fracture as seen on the CT chest exam."
I met with my doctor on Tuesday, as scheduled. He said there is a "very small" chance that what everyone saw on my scans could be something other than cancer and he ordered a biopsy of that part of my spine. The biopsy will confirm the cancer and will also provide information about it, such as whether or not it is hormone receptor positive, like it was the last time. Knowing the genetic specifics of the cancer allows them to prescribe treatments specifically targeted at those properties.
Once cancer has spread beyond the original site, it is no longer considered curable. There are many treatments that we will try. When one fails (meaning the cancer spreads to new sites or grows larger on existing sites), I will stop that treatment and try the next option. I will continue this until there are no longer any treatments left to try.
A lot of cancer "awareness" campaigns talk about "fighting," "beating it," "winning." But that looks a lot different when the diagnosis is metastatic/advanced/stage 4 breast cancer. The "fighting" doesn't end until your life does, and "winning" means finding a treatment that keeps your cancer from spreading for as long as possible, while still allowing you to feel well enough to maintain some kind of quality of life.
This is not my official diagnosis yet. I will see my oncologist on Thursday for the final results from my biopsy and we'll know for sure then. I am reminded of a study of the book of Daniel that we did in my Bible study group last year. King Nebuchadnezzar builds this ridiculous golden statue of himself and makes a law that everyone must bow down to it or die. Of course, Daniel and his other Jewish friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego serve Yahweh and cannot bow down to any other god. So Nebuchadnezzar tells them that he is going to throw them into the fiery furnace if they will not relent. And their response is this: "King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Dan. 3:16-18).
So I say with those men, if I am thrown into the fiery furnace of terminal cancer, the God I serve is able to deliver me. But even if he does not, I will not lose faith, I will not turn to place my trust in other things. No matter what, I will ultimately be delivered. As Paul said: "I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:20-21). Please strengthen me with your prayers.
Precious Katherine, you know our prayers are with you and Kevin. Love, Rose Ann & Luster
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