My oncologist only sends his ''No Evidence of Disease'' patients for scans if they become symptomatic.
Today he ordered a bone scan for me.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I went in today for my routine labs, and mentioned how my hands are itchy, swollen, and red from the Xeloda. I also mentioned that I no longer have fingerprints (a temporary side effect from my skin thinning).
He was all, ''We can lower your dose again.''
Then I mentioned the dull ache in my mid-spine, as he was reading my lab results. His tune changed to, ''Let's give you another week off from Xeloda, order a bone scan, and have you back in here on Wednesday.'' He never has me come in back to back weeks for labs.
My hemoglobin is the lowest it has ever been, despite increasing my iron. It should be a minimum of 11.7, and mine has been hovering in the 10's. Today is was 9.5. Easy to remember, because my birthday is 09/05.
Low hemoglobin and bone pain are both symptoms of bone metastasis.
For those of you new to or not in the cancer world, metastasis is the spread of a primary cancer to elsewhere in the body. The spine is a common place for a rogue breast cancer cell to settle.
I am freaking out.
Freaking out.
There is good news:
A) I have been anemic for years, and chemo can cause anemia, too. So that may explain why my hemoglobin is so low.
B) I first had my spinal pain last night, after being at the gym all morning and lifting my heavy 1 year old all day. I was also on my hands and knees scrubbing the floors two days ago. So any number of ordinary, every day things could account for my spinal pain.
C) He felt, and did not feel anything palpable. That does not mean nothing sinister is hiding under the surface, but still, that is a good sign.
D) Bone mets is very treatable, and people can live comfortably for a really long time with them.
So, I am in that weird in between place, where I do not want to have too much optimism only to be disappointed and heartbroken. But I also do not want to stress myself out unnecessarily.
 |
| To make you feel like even more of a leper, they keep this sign over the toilet at the Cancer Center. I can't help but wonder, ''Why the hell is it crumpled?''. I bet someone got pissed off one day and did that. |
Today he ordered a bone scan for me.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I went in today for my routine labs, and mentioned how my hands are itchy, swollen, and red from the Xeloda. I also mentioned that I no longer have fingerprints (a temporary side effect from my skin thinning).
 |
| My hands are hot, red, itchy, swollen, totally devoid of fingerprints, and gripping anything is torturous. Good times. |
Then I mentioned the dull ache in my mid-spine, as he was reading my lab results. His tune changed to, ''Let's give you another week off from Xeloda, order a bone scan, and have you back in here on Wednesday.'' He never has me come in back to back weeks for labs.
My hemoglobin is the lowest it has ever been, despite increasing my iron. It should be a minimum of 11.7, and mine has been hovering in the 10's. Today is was 9.5. Easy to remember, because my birthday is 09/05.
Low hemoglobin and bone pain are both symptoms of bone metastasis.
For those of you new to or not in the cancer world, metastasis is the spread of a primary cancer to elsewhere in the body. The spine is a common place for a rogue breast cancer cell to settle.
I am freaking out.
Freaking out.
There is good news:
A) I have been anemic for years, and chemo can cause anemia, too. So that may explain why my hemoglobin is so low.
B) I first had my spinal pain last night, after being at the gym all morning and lifting my heavy 1 year old all day. I was also on my hands and knees scrubbing the floors two days ago. So any number of ordinary, every day things could account for my spinal pain.
C) He felt, and did not feel anything palpable. That does not mean nothing sinister is hiding under the surface, but still, that is a good sign.
D) Bone mets is very treatable, and people can live comfortably for a really long time with them.
So, I am in that weird in between place, where I do not want to have too much optimism only to be disappointed and heartbroken. But I also do not want to stress myself out unnecessarily.
''Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see.''
You're singing Doris Day now, huh? Sorry about that. I have a varied selection of musical lyrics that live in my head, and are applicable to nearly any situation.
I need to get myself in a good head space. Candles. A bath. Essential oils. Something. Anything.
I think after I take my daughter to the salon (she gave herself her 5th DIY haircut and looks like a feral child with Audrey Hepburn bangs), we are going to Petland to play with puppies. I can pretend one of them is Poe, and cuddle him close.
So here I am, stuck in a weird place. Somewhere in between hope and melancholy.
I am not much of a pray-er, but any and all good vibes are appreciated. Much love. XO
I need to get myself in a good head space. Candles. A bath. Essential oils. Something. Anything.
I think after I take my daughter to the salon (she gave herself her 5th DIY haircut and looks like a feral child with Audrey Hepburn bangs), we are going to Petland to play with puppies. I can pretend one of them is Poe, and cuddle him close.
So here I am, stuck in a weird place. Somewhere in between hope and melancholy.
I am not much of a pray-er, but any and all good vibes are appreciated. Much love. XO
Enjoying your blog. I have just finished active treatment (2 surgeries, 8 cycles of chemo-ACT, 33 rads) and feel so worried. I have always had back pain. But it somehow seems so much more pronounced now. Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am and how inspiring to get through all of this. All I can think is, "I don't want to be inspiring or strong. I just want to live. I don't want to be that girl that 'fought so hard, but lost her battle.' How do I not be that girl?"
ReplyDeleteHi, Heather! Thanks for your comment. I finished my active treatment in Nov. I thought I would be celebratory, but the fear remains. I thought once I finished active treatment I would leave the cancer world, but now I realize I will always be in it, no matter how much I move on with my life. I know what you mean. It is so hard being in warrior mode all of the time. I hate when people say, "You're so strong, brave, etc.'' I just think, ''I am just doing what anyone would do when presented with something trying to kill them. Just fighting like hell and hope I get on the other side of this monster.'' Because what else can we do? I do not want to be ''that girl'', either. It saddens me when I see other ladies dx at the same time as me, with kids just like mine, who are dying now. The survivor guilt is real, too. Why them and not me? It is such a crazy world to live in.
Delete