Scans

Last week, I had my scans - those oh-so-important tests that tell metastatic cancer patients if our current treatment is working or not. We live from scan to scan, since the results of them essentially tell us what our current prognosis looks like.

This time, I got both a bone scan and a CT scan. I had received a bone scan in the fall, but this was my first CT since my initial diagnosis in July. Since my cancer had only spread to my spine, the bones were what my doctor wanted to look at three months into treatment. Now that I'm seven to eight months in, he thought it was a good idea to take a look at everything. The CT scan looks at organs and tissue, while the bone scan just sees bone.

There is always some level of anxiety when going for tests, but I was pretty nervous about them this time. I have been having some abdominal pain, as well as some pain in my sides, and felt in my gut (pun intended - haha) that my cancer had spread. Of course, your mind always thinks every little ache or pain is more cancer, but, this time, I felt my fears might be justified. 

I had finally gotten approval to attend long-anticipated and much-needed training for my job, which would require two separate week-long trips to Wisconsin. The first of those trips had just been scheduled and was the week following my scans. But if my cancer had spread, I didn't want my company to spend all that money training me only to lose me; I was planning to cancel my trip if I got bad news. These scans were high stakes for me.

To make things more exciting, we had a snowstorm the day of my scans. I was sure my scans would be rescheduled and that I wouldn't be able to get my results before leaving for training. But God intervened and my scans were not cancelled, even though driving to them was a scary experience. 

Scans take up the good part of a day. For the bone scan, you have to get an injection, then wait three hours for it to circulate through your system before getting the scan. For the CT, you have to drink contrast material one hour before the scan, some more 30 minutes before the scan, and a third dose right before they put you on the table. Then they give you a final dose via injection after some of the images have already been taken and before they take the last few. Between these activities, Kevin and I hung out at the cancer center and watched the snow fall.

I had told my nurse navigator about my work travel situation and she promised to call me with my results as soon as they had them. But because of the snow, the clinics were delayed in opening the next day and I was sure she either wouldn't have made it into work or would be so busy with the shortened schedule that she would forget to call. But I underestimated her! She did call! And I got the very happy news that everything looked good! No new spots! The abdominal pain is still unexplained, but at least it's not cancer.

So tonight I am in Wisconsin on that work trip, learning new things for my job. I guess living with metastatic cancer means thinking you're at death's door one minute and doing professional development the next. Am I building a career or preparing to go out on disability? Am I sick or am I well? When sick people say they're taking it day by day, they mean it. You really never know from day to day what your future holds. I'm just thankful that, for today, things are good.