Will the cancer screenings ever end?

 This morning I was scheduled for an MRI. At my recent visit to see the oncologist, he was concerned about my mentioning an increase in spine and hip pain, so he scheduled more testing. I was thankful he was being proactive but was concerned about the financial end of it. MRIs are expensive. 

I arrived at the imaging center about fifteen minutes early. After signing in and paying my 20% portion, I sat down. I wasn't expecting to pay that large amount. Thankfully, I had tucked a credit card into my wallet just in case. 

When the technician called me back, she asked if I had any metal in or on my body. I didn't. I'd been through this before and knew to remove all metal from my clothing and on my body. She showed me to a locker room where I could store my things and then took me to the imaging room. 

In front of me was the big, ugly torture chamber. I'm very claustrophobic and struggle to make it through testing. I asked the tech how long I'd be in the tube, and she said, "Probably about an hour and 45 minutes." Wow! I wasn't expecting that either and questioned her. She said, "You'll be having 3 MRIs today - one on your cervical spine, one on your thoracic spine, and one on your right hip." Oh, joy. That explained the large amount I had to pay at the front desk - 3 testes instead of one. 

I'd taken half an anxiety pill before arriving at the center. I knew it was going to be stressful being in the machine. I couldn't stand having the sides pressed tight against me and feeling entombed. The medication helped for about the first 30 minutes of testing and then it wore off. 

I kept my eyes closed the entire time. I didn't want to see how close the machine was to my face. Thankfully they had air flowing through the tube so I didn't feel like I couldn't breathe but the earplugs and headphones did little to muffle the large metal ball banging sounds as the scans commenced. 

The tech had told me she'd play some music through the headphones for me and asked what kind I liked. I told her Boney James and she said she'd find some on Pandora before starting the test, but I guess she forgot. 

When I started to get anxious, I pressed the emergency call button and asked her how much longer I'd be in the tube. She said another hour. I asked if I could come out a few minutes reposition myself. My hip was hurting so badly on the hard table. 

She slid me out and said my timing was perfect. After I'd gotten a little more comfortable, she said she was about to perform the hip study. Positioning a foam block between my ankles, she turned them inward and then strapped them together with a long velcro strap. Next, she placed some sort of frame over my hips and slid me back into the tube. 

I didn't think I'd ever get out. I lay there and prayed as the banging continued. When she finally slid me out of the tube, a took a high sigh of relief. 

It took a few minutes to get up off of the table. My hip and back were hurting but also, I was dizzy. Managing to move into a sitting position, I sat on the side of the table for a few minutes as she prepared a disk for me. The disk would have all of the images loaded and I could look through them if I wanted. They'd also send a copy to the doctor. 

When I got home, I popped the disk into my computer. The images loaded and I began to look at them. It was interesting to see inside my body. There were some things I recognized and some I didn't. 

Hopefully, in the next day or two, my oncologist will give me a report of the findings. I'm curious to hear what the test showed. I guess the next step will be to see an orthopedic doctor for the pain, but I'm not sure. 

There were some odd white blobs on the cross section of my brain. Those were quite concerning and have me wondering if I possibly have a brain tumor like my grandmother did. I pray not! 

Anyway, now I play the game of hurry up and wait. I'm not a very patient person. I guess God is trying to teach me that lesson. Maybe I learn it one of these days. 

One thing leads to another

They say hindsight is 20/20 and I've found that to be true for the most part. When I look back on various things in my life, I can see so much more clearly, especially when those things are health related. 

In December 2021, I was extremely sick with some weird illness that caused me to be unable to swallow. I went to the emergency room twice, to urgent care twice, and to my general physician 3 times. During that time, I had all sorts of tests run - bloodwork, laryngoscopies, MRIs, and CT scans. At first they thought I had a salivary stone. Next, they thought Sjogren's Syndrome, after a positive ANA test, they thought it was a rheumatological disorder but nothing definite was ever determined. After 2 rounds of steroids and 2 of antibiotics, I got a little better, but then, I got Tracheitis. Unsure whether or not my CPAP machine may have contributed to that issue, I was told to stay off of it for 3 weeks. 

The CT scan on my head and neck revealed an area of concern on the upper right lobe of my lung. How it picked up that area, I have no clue, but it did. Immediately, I freaked out thinking the cancer had returned. Calling my oncologist, I shared the news. He scheduled a CT scan of my lungs with and without contrast. That was earlier last week. On Friday, I got the call from his office. They said the area on my lung was damaged tissue from radiation therapy. Whew! I was glad to hear that, but I wasn't expecting what came next. The test also picked up an area of concern on the T6 vertebrae of my spine. Great. Just what I needed. Another area to freak out about! And now, they want me to have a nuclear medicine full body bone scan. They didn't tell me why they wanted me to have the test, but I know. They're looking to see if the cancer has metastasized. 

When they lopped off my boobs, they did find cancer in my sentinel lymph node, too. That meant the cancer was traveling. Thankfully, after removing a total of 6 nodes in my right arm and 2 in the left, They didn't find any more cancer. So, I assumed everything was all good. 

In July of this year, I'll celebrate 8 years of being cancer free...I hope. 

I have to look back at the circumstances of the way everything happened with gratitude. If I don't, I can't accept that God allowed each thing to lead to another thing to hopefully take care of a potential problem before it gets out of control. 

I don't want to go through cancer again...EVER! But if I have to, I'd rather know very early on so the doctors can help me figure out how to battle it. 

I don't know what I'll do if they say it is a recurrence. I don't know how I'll choose to fight it. The first round, I refused chemo but did do radiation therapy and anti-hormone therapy for a few months. If I'm told the cancer has returned, what will I do? I've already started to think about it. 

My friends and family tell me not to borrow trouble, and I'm not trying to, I'm just a practical person. I like to have a plan. I like to think ahead. 

I never really thought long and hard during my first round of cancer. I just did what I had to do. I knew I wanted the cancer out of my body as fast as possible so I went radical and said, "Cut them off!" If I get news it's in my spine, I'll probably lean toward doing chemotherapy this time. I know it will make me extremely sick, but if it means I'll have a better chance of living longer, I'll do it. 

My Aunt died of bone cancer. I watched her during the last few weeks of her life. She was in excruciating pain. The morphine didn't help lessen her pain or control it. Her agony is not something I think I could endure. 

I wish I didn't know so much about the spine. Working for a two chiropractors I learned a lot. And now it all makes sense. I've been having a lot of back pain in that area for some time. I thought I was just dealing with a herniated disk. I guess time will tell. 

The funny thing is, even before I find out the results from the complete body bone scan, I have a sneaking feeling I'm going to get bad news. I'm not trying to be morbid, it's just a gut feeling I have. 

Back in 1976, I read a book by Betty Rollin called, First You Cry. It's about how she felt when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Little did I know that 38 years after I read her book, I'd face the same plight. 

Last week, while visiting a thrift store, the spine of a book caught my eye and it nearly jumped off the shelf at me. It was Betty's book. For some reason, I purchased it and brought it home to re-read. It's been 46 years since I've read her story and I felt the need to read it again. 

Maybe it's just a coincidence or maybe mere curiosity, but as I've been reading the book again this week, it's felt comforting to know her feelings are so similar to mine. I'd forgotten about her sick sense of humor that cracks me up. For instance, at a dinner party, she's talking with a speech writer and all of a sudden he asks her what she does for a living. Betty pipes up and says, without missing a beat, "I had a breast cut off recently and I'm trying to get over it." Naturally, the man sitting with her is caught off guard by her candor and nearly drops his fork. I had to laugh out loud when I read it. Only those who've been there would get it, and I did. Sometimes, we say things for the pure shock value because it's the most suitable thing we can think of at the time. 

It will be interesting to see how all this plays out. The scan is on May 31st. I'll go into the hospital at 9:00 a.m. to be injected with a radioactive tracer then I'll return to the hospital 3 hours later for an hour long scan. I don't know how long it will be before I receive the results, but I'm praying now that whatever is on T6 will be miraculously gone. If not, I'll try to receive the news with grace and trust that God has everything under control. He's the only one who knows what my future holds. 

Oh, sure, I'd love to have a crystal ball and be able to see what happens in the days, weeks, and months ahead. I'd love to know how long I'm going to live and how I'm going to die, but God doesn't give me that ability. If He did, there would be no reason for me to have faith, would there? 

It's hard. I won't lie. It's so hard to think about possibly going through cancer again. I know I'll beat myself up with the what ifs - did I do the right thing in my choice for the first fight? Did I do something to feed the cancer and cause it to grow again? Was there something I ignored? The questions are endless. 

All I can do is wait and I suck at that. In the meantime, I'm going to spend some time at the beach trying to think about nothing other than watching the rolling of the ocean waves, seeing the splendor of the sunrises and sunsets, feeling the sand beneath my feet, and allowing my mind to be soothed by the sights and sounds of nature. 

Please keep me in your prayers. I'll keep you posted in the days ahead. No matter what, I know that God is good and He has a good plan for my life. 

I’m trying really hard not to cry…

The test results are in and I'm happy to report I'm currently cancer free! That's fantastic news! I am so grateful and so very blessed.

Doctors found a suspicious place on my fourth rib and another on L5 of my spine. After an ultrasound and an MRI, they determined the spot on my ribs is costochondritis and the place on my spine is due to degenerative disc disease. I also have several herniated discs and those little buggers, along with osteoarthritis, are the reason for my chronic back pain. So...I'm being sent for treatment which will include physical therapy, chiropractic care, and acupuncture.

I'm thankful for a cancer treatment center that believes in integrative health care. It's so nice to have everything under one roof. Instead of having to travel from one city to the next to receive treatment, I go to one place. It's kind of like one-stop shopping for healthcare, lol.

In July, I'll be celebrating my fourth cancerversary. Isn't that amazing??? 4 years of being cancer free! What a milestone! God is so good and I can't thank Him enough for allowing me to continue to live.

This year, I'll be focusing more on finding joy. God has impressed upon me that I need to see His goodness and the best way I can do that is to find joy in the midst of my gratitude.

There are so many things to look forward to this year! Hubby and I have already planned our calendar year and several mini-vacations are on the slate.

So life is good and we are blessed. I never want to meet up with cancer again. Hopefully, God will see fit to keep it far away from us. We trust He will!

Patting myself on the back

It feels so good to know you've made a good decision. When I fired my last oncologist, I wasn't sure I was making the right decision. It's scary to walk away from a doctor's care, but it was absolutely necessary in this case to do just that.

Today, I met my new oncologist. What a gem! He was so pleasant and nice. His eyes twinkled as he spoke to me. I knew it was a good fit when he sat down and asked me what he could do for me. He wanted to know how he could help make me more comfortable. What a first! I've never had a doctor ask me that before.

I was impressed that he took time to pull up my chart on his computer and as he did, he asked me to correct anything that was incorrect. He read through all of my records and after he'd done that, He came over to examine me. Before he began, he took time to warm his hands. What a gentleman!

His nurse sat in the corner jotting down notes as he went over my body. As he worked, he asked me if there were specific areas that were bothering me. I mentioned the tenderness underneath my scar, a spot to the right of one of my chest radiation tattoos, my spinal pain and of course, the lymphedema. After thinking for a few minutes, I also added the insomnia.

Dr. H addressed each area of concern. He ordered an ultrasound, an MRI with contrast, and he's sending me to a lymphedema specialist.

After 45 minutes, he was ready to move on to his next patient. Before he left, he turned to me, smiled a huge smile and thanked me for trusting him to be my doctor. He gave me his business card and told me to contact him if I needed anything.

His nurse stayed in the room for a few minutes and another nurse joined us. Both of the ladies wanted to talk to me for a few minutes. They asked me if I was pleased with the doctor. I assured them I was. They told me Dr. H is one of the best on staff at the cancer treatment center and explained he is always happy go lucky. Neither of them has ever seen him upset, angry, or sad. He was good to his employees and wanted the very best for his patients. The ladies were very sincere in their comments about him and that made me feel like I'd made a good decision to change doctors.

When I left the exam room, I smiled. Finally, I was going to get the care I deserved. I felt confident in Dr. H and his team. 

What a difference. Dr. N had been brusk and inattentive. Dr. H had been open, approachable, and friendly. Dr. N hadn't given me 3 minutes of her time. Dr. H gave me 45 minutes. Dr. N didn't go over one of my lab tests or records. Dr. H went over every single one of them.

It's important to find a doctor who fits your needs and if that means going "Doc Shopping," then so be it.

On my way out of the treatment facility, I found a handpainted stone with the word, "Hope," on it. How appropriate and what perfect timing! Yes, I do have hope in a brighter tomorrow with no cancer!

The Purpose In Suffering

Yesterday, I was reminded of something important. Late in the day, as I was checking my emails, I received notification that someone had left a comment on one of my blog posts. I have my account set up so I can moderate comments as they come in because, in the past, I've received some pretty racy spam comments that shocked me to my core when they were posted without my knowledge.

As I read the comment the reader left, I went back to that post I'd made in October of 2014. Re-reading the post brought back a flood of memories, some good, and some not so good.

In the post, I was reminded of a lesson God had taught me. It's been almost 4 years since that original post and He's still teaching me reasons for my suffering.

You'd think, by now, my suffering would have ended. You'd think, I'd be much stronger and more healthy than I was back in 2014 after surgery and treatment, but I'm not. Daily, I'm in pain. Some days are worse than others, but there's never a day without some discomfort.

I try hard not to mention it. My husband is really the only one who sees my constant struggles. I try hard to keep my physical pain from my children and grandchildren. There's nothing they can do to help me other than pray, so why bother them with it?

When my spine screams in agony, or when my arms are swollen so tight they feel like they'll burst, I have to remember, God has allowed this into my life. I have to trust that He knows what He's doing. I have to trust He's using this for my benefit. It isn't always easy, in fact, most days it's really hard. And, I do spend a lot of time on the floor of my closet in tears crying out to Him, but I know I'm not forgotten. When I do give Him my agony and pain, He gives me His peace. And that's enough.

Tomorrow, I'll see the new oncologist. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was nervous. Although I'm coming up on my four-year cancerversary (July 9, 2018), every visit to the cancer treatment center is scary. It's always concerning when the lab results come in. I can't help wonder if my tumor marker will be up and more tests will need to be done.

I canceled the MRI I was supposed to have done last week. I'll be talking with the new oncologist about this and get his feelings before rescheduling. If he feels it will be beneficial, then I'll do it. If not, I'll wait.

This morning, as I read my Bible, I was reminded that Jesus is the Good Shepherd. I always wondered why He had to qualify Himself to those to whom He was speaking. In the Greek language, the word good is translated, "Kalos." This word describes someone who is noble, wholesome, good, and beautiful. It signifies not only that which is good inwardly—character—but also that which is attractive outwardly. It is an innate goodness. Therefore, in using the phrase “the good shepherd,” Jesus is referencing His inherent goodness, His righteousness, and His beauty. As shepherd of the sheep, He is the one who protects, guides, and nurtures His flock.

As I thought about my Shepherd, Jesus, I was reminded that I am a lowly sheep. Sheep need to be protected, guided, and cared for. That is exactly what Jesus is doing for me.

While I continue my journey through breast cancer, I can trust Him to lead me exactly where I need to go.

His purpose for my suffering is only completely known to Him but as I follow after Him, I know that every ache and pain will soon be erased one day, and that makes it bearable.