One more ultrasound

At my latest oncology appointment, my new oncologist, Dr. Sharma, seemed concerned about the walnut sized lump at my left clavicle. It had been there for months but had seemed to be larger than it was when I first mentioned it to previous oncologist. I was grateful this new doctor was being proactive in ordering a test so quickly. 

When I arrived at the cancer treatment center's imaging department, the room was packed. The only available chair was close to a wall mounted television set and very close to an automatic door. I knew the constant noise from the TV would interrupt my reading but wasn't prepared for the blast of cold air every time the door opened as someone entered. I waited about fifteen minutes and as soon as someone was called back, I got up to move and take their seat. I lucked up and got a seat in a warmer section of the room very close to the receptionist's desk. 

My appointment was scheduled for 9:45 a.m. When 10:30 rolled around and I still hadn't been called back, I wondered if I'd been forgotten. There were so many in the waiting room though and it seemed they were moving slowly so I patiently waited. 

To my left was an older black couple. One seat over from me sat the woman softly humming. As I read, I heard her soothing melody. It wasn't bothersome at all and I was thankful for her low, soft voice. It seemed to calm me as I waited for my test 

A nurse came and sat by the couple. She spoke to the husband about the wife's upcoming procedure. I did my best not to eavesdrop but the nurse wasn't whispering. I kept my eyes glued to my book and tried to read as they talked. I kept going over the same line again and again. The nurse was telling the man that after his wife's lung biopsy they'd have to keep her under surveillance for a couple of hours. He asked questions as to why and the nurse said sometimes, during a lung biopsy, air can get into a patient's lungs and this can be a dangerous situation. The man's voice wavered as he continued to talk with the nurse. A few minutes later,  the nurse was taking the woman with her to the procedure area. 

I sat for a few minutes and didn't say a word. As I did, I felt the Holy Spirit prompting me to tell the man I was going to pray for his wife. I waited a few more minutes for confirmation and the nudge didn't go away, so I leaned over and told the man I wasn't trying to get into their business but I couldn't help overhearing about his wife's biopsy. He looked at me intently and I said, "May I ask your wife's name? I'd like to pray for her." Immediately he said, "Her name is Lynn Morgan." I smiled and told him I would be praying for her and I spoke words of encouragement to him. He thanked me over and over again before leaving to go find a hotel room for the night as the nurse had suggested he do just in case the wife's biopsy was more complicated than they expected. 

After Mr. Morgan left, I began to pray for his wife asking God to be with her and give her strength, to guide the doctor's hands and to protect her from complications. As I prayed, a verses from Isaiah came to mind, "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock." (Isaiah 26:3-4) I know God brought those verses to mind for not only Mrs. Morgan, but also for me. 

It wasn't long before I was being called back. I lay on the exam table as the radiology tech warmed up the gel. After asking me to show her the exact location of the lump, she took the transducer and began going over and over my left clavicle. As she pressed the wand down on the lump, it hurt. I kept my eyes on the ceiling tiles instead of looking at the ultrasound machine as I did in 2014 when I was first diagnosed. The ceiling tiles in the room were illuminated with a beautiful spring scene. I remembered that view and smiled to myself. 

The ceiling scene I enjoyed

I found it interesting that I wasn't terrified like I was the first time I'd had a breast ultrasound done. Over the years, I've become desensitized to all the poking, prodding, and tests. Perhaps it's because I feel in my heart cancer is no longer a threat to me. Oh, I know it can be. I'm not being naive about the dangers and possibility of a recurrence, it just feels like my stint with cancer is over and has been for some time. 

It kind of feels moot to have to keep going to the oncologist for annual checkups but I'm glad I have a safety net in place just in case. 

On the way home, I continued to pray for Mrs. Morgan. I wish I knew if she was doing okay. 

Next month, I'll return to the oncologist for more blood work, to see the integrative wellness team. Thankfully all that will be after vacation and I can enjoy the sand and sea without thinking about anything cancer related.

Contemplation

 Sitting outside as the sun began to dip below the horizon, thoughts were swirling around in my head. It had been a challenging day. 

I woke up at 1:00 a.m. as the cpap machine blasted cool air in my face. Quickly pulling off the mask, I got up to check the machine. It still had plenty of water in the reservoir. I wondered why the sudden blast of air. Had I quit breathing? I made a mental note to check later in the day. 

After taking a restroom break, I crawled back into bed, reaffixed the cpap mask and drifted back to sleep. I slept until a little after 4:00 a.m. and was jolted awake from an odd dream. I lay back down and tried to get back to sleep. Finally, after about half an hour of restlessness, I got up and grabbed my headphones. I pulled up a YouTube video by one of my favorite ministries and listened until I dozed off. I slept until just before 7:00 a.m. and was able to silence my alarm before it went off. 

I was having an upper endoscopy at 9:30 a.m. This would be the third one I'd had done in the past year and a half. I wasn't looking forward to it. 

My husband had taken the day off. Since I'd be under anesthesia for a little while, they didn't want me to drive. I was glad he was with me. He's such a calming presence. 

When we reached the hospital, the parking lot was full. I was surprised to see that so many people were already there and wondered if they were visiting patients or if they were patients themselves. 

The nurses on the gastroenterology floor were extremely nice. I was thankful they were attentive and kind. 

Soon it was time for the needle stick, the part I always dread. It's so hard for nurses to find a vein in the back of my hand. Those veins are very tiny. Although she tried twice, she finally had to move a little higher up on my arm using a vein scanner to find one big enough for the I.V. 

I was wheeled down the hall into the procedure room and met another nurse, the anesthesiologist and the doctor. I was unusually calm and knew it must be from all the friends that were praying for me. 

The nurse helped me get turned over onto my left side and placed a device in my mouth that would keep it open for the procedure. Then the anesthesiologist placed oxygen over my nose and mouth as she injected a white liquid into the I.V. She told me to take a couple of deep breaths and I don't even know if I made it to the second one before I was out. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the recovery room. 

A nurse sat at the foot of the bed monitoring my vital signs. She saw I was waking and asked how I was feeling. When I tried to speak, my throat was so sore I could barely croak out any words. 

I don't know how long I lay there before the doctor came in but when he did, I made a point of listening hard so I could remember what he was about to say. I was still feeling groggy and didn't want to miss anything. 

He told me he'd done several biopsies and he should have the results back in a week or so. He told me not to worry and to call his office with any questions. Then he left and the nurse began to remove the I.V. and told me I could get ready to go home. 

An orderly came to wheel me downstairs to the car. On the way down, I asked her how many patients they would see that day. She said the average was seventy. I was surprised.seventy endoscopies or colonoscopies a day seemed like a lot for an 8 hour period. 

I hadn't had anything solid to eat for almost 3 days and I was famished. My sweet hubby had promised to get my favorite, Chinese food, on the way home. 

We got home and I ate a little. I didn't want to overload my stomach, especially since I'd just had that procedure done and my throat felt like someone had taken sandpaper to it. 

In the back of my mind, I keep wondering how I'll react if the doctor tells me they found cancer. I don't know if I can go through that again. 

Since being diagnosed in 2014, it seems that thought has haunted me continually and I don't know how to get rid of it. 

I tell myself all the time that I'm not supposed to worry about anything - God tells me that in His Word, but sometimes, my flesh is weak and I can't help it. 

I don't think I'll be able to fully relax until I get the all clear from the doctor. 

My inbox holds an unread email regarding the upcoming annual National Cancer Survivor's Day. I've celebrated it every year since 2015, the year after I was diagnosed. This year, I'm not too keen on participating. I don't know why. I'm just kind of tired of cancer and everything to do with it.

Can you say Roto-Rooter?

For months I've had trouble swallowing. It started in December and got progressively worse. After several visits to the ER, urgent care, and to the ENT, we thought we'd found a solution. The ENT treated me for a salivary stone, then, after more tests, said I had an auto immune disorder. One frustration let to another as I endured test after test. The last one, a modified barium swallow study, revealed the problem wasn't only in my salivary glands, but also in my esophagus. 

I'd had an upper endoscopy done earlier in the year for severe acid reflux and a hiatal hernia, so I was surprised they wanted to do another, but the swallowing was getting more and more difficult. I wasn't being able to eat normal meals. After a few bites, I felt full and would blow up like a balloon from bloating. I knew something was extremely wrong. 

There had been a follow-up endoscopy scheduled for October, but I knew I couldn't wait that long, so I went into the portal and asked to be put on the waitlist. When they called Friday to offer a Tuesday appointment, I jumped on it. I knew God was in the details because this doctor was always booked up and it was rare to get a spot. If I didn't take it, I'd have to wait until October and by then, I'd have probably choked to death! 

Friday through Sunday, I existed on protein shakes and water. The test wasn't until 2:45 p.m. on Monday, so after midnight Sunday, I was instructed only to have one sip of water with my blood pressure medication. 

All day Monday, I waited and watched the clock. Time moved so slowly. Finally, when it was time to go, hubby and I dashed out the door. We'd calculated how long it would take to get to the hospital in a neighboring town - 45 minutes. 

We made small talk along the way and not long after we'd departed, a concrete mixer pulled in front of us. He was going so slow and there was no way to pass him. 

We poked along behind him for the majority of the way until finally, just a few miles from the hospital, at 2:40 p.m. he turned on a side street and we were able to cruise at a faster pace. 

I was dropped at the front door of the hospital while hubby went to find a parking space. I didn't want my slot to be given away, so I race walked to the elevators and made it to the suite just in time. 

As I sat and waited the waiting room, I was praying. God, please, help them find a vein! Every time I go to a medical office for a blood draw, the staff have trouble. I'm limited to my left hand because of the breast cancer and lymphedema. Those veins are so tiny and crooked it makes it difficult for even a well-trained nurse to find a usable vein. 

About 15 minutes passed and I was called back. As usual, the nurse had trouble. A doctor came over to see if she could help and neither of them could find a good vein. Then, they brought in a vein scanner light. 

The vein scanner lit up my veins and they were finally able to find one. 

After inserting an IV, I was wheeled into the room and the doctor told me what he was going to do. I had no idea he was planning to stretch my esophagus until that very moment! Apparently, the barium swallow study had revealed a stricture that was causing the food to stick in the middle of my throat. 

I was turned on my side and a device was placed in my mouth to hold it open. They strapped on an oxygen cannula and administered the anesthetic. Instantly, I was out. 

When I awoke, I was in the recovery room with the worst sore throat you could imagine. It felt like someone had taken a broomstick, wrapped it in sandpaper, and reamed me out. I asked the nurse if they had something I could drink. I told her I hadn't had anything since 5:00 a.m. and that was just a sip of water. I was surprised when she said no that I could get something after I left. How rude! I'm sure they had a little dixie cup they could have filled with tap water. Heck, I would have even taken water in a urinalysis cup at that point, my mouth was so dry. 

She went over paperwork with me and then the doctor came in. He told me all he'd done. Not only had he stretched my esophagus, but he'd also taken multiple biopsies of my throat and stomach. 

I'll have to wait for 7-10 days to get the results from those tests. In the meantime, I'll be living on liquids and soft foods for the next day or so while my throat heals. 

I'm really scared about a possible recurrence of cancer and since my brother died of esophageal cancer, this worries me even more. 

All I can do is pray and trust God's got this. I'm so tired of going through medical procedures. I just want to feel normal for a change, but what's normal, right? Are any of us really normal? 

Dodged a bullet today, yay!

The biopsy setup with all those sharp instruments

Today I was scheduled for a biopsy on an enlarged lymph node on my left clavicle. I wasn't looking forward to it, biopsies hurt, but I trusted my doctor and knew he was watching out for my well being.

As I got ready for the trip to the cancer treatment center, I didn't realize how nervous I was about today's visit until I started to put in my earrings. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn't find the hole to insert my earring. That was not a good sign. I must have been internally fearful and my body's fight or flight system was saying, run, run, run! I didn't run. I realized I had to put on my big girl panties and be brave. I've been having to do that a lot lately.

When I got to the cancer treatment center, the imaging room was packed full. As I glanced around, I saw some familiar faces and many new ones. After check-in, I found a seat and waited to be called back. Usually, it only takes a few minutes. Today, it took almost half an hour.

When it was my turn to go back, I followed the quick-stepping young nurse as fast as I could. She was definitely a power walker! I was having to take 3 steps to every one of hers. We reached the room and she handed me a gown and a warm blanket. I wanted to say, "I know the drill," but I didn't. As she left the room, I slipped off my clothes and donned the gown with the ribbon ties in the front. After waiting for about ten minutes, the nurse came back in and we got started.

She took the warm conductive gel and smeared it on the ultrasound wand. I pushed my hair back behind my ear to keep the gook from gumming up my freshly washed hair. Over and over again, the nurse passed the wand across my clavicle pausing now and then to snap a photo of what she was seeing. When she was done, she left the room to show the radiologist the film.

I waited until the radiologist came in. I didn't know what to expect as he sat beside me on the gurney. He smiled a big smile and said, "You don't need a biopsy today. The lymph node has shrunk since your last visit to Dr. H." I was so thankful to hear those words. I was not going to have to endure the pain of having a large needle inserted into my neck, WOOHOO! But, I wasn't out of the woods yet. The radiologist said my oncologist had requested I have a PET scan and that would be done tomorrow. My last one was done in 2015 so they felt it was time for another.

Ultrasound ready for my scan

With my five year cancerversary just around the corner, I'm hoping I get an all clear from this PET scan. It's my hope that I don't have to come back to the cancer treatment center for an entire year. So, I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping for the best. I'm trusting God either way. If He deems it necessary for me to experience a recurrence, so be it. I'll know its His will. And, if He gives me a free and clear scan, I'll know His will is for me to move past this cancer mess and get on with my life. Either way, He's a good God and He knows what is in store for my future.

So that's where we stand today. I am grateful and I am blessed. Until tomorrow....

Happy me - no needles today!

Adversity makes us stronger

I read somewhere that we must partake of the bitter with the sweet. There's a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day. They prepare, they purge, they purify, and they also bless. When you look at life that way, it's a little easier to accept trials as they come.

Today I spent the first few hours of the morning in the hospital having some tests done. Apparently, I have polyps growing in my stomach. The doctor wanted to do an EGD, a test where they take a lighted hose with a camera and a cutting tool on the end of it and run it through your mouth down into your upper intestines. I've had it done once before when doctors were looking at a hiatal hernia in my belly so I knew what to expect. It's weird to be conscious one minute and totally out the next. When the anesthesiologist told me they were going to give me Propofol, I immediately thought of Michael Jackson for some reason. No sooner than I'd begun that thought, the room went dark. The next thing I knew, a nurse was fiddling around with some paper in my room and I was wondering how long I'd been there. Scary.

My husband came in a few minutes later and then the doctor. Dr. R explained that I had some erosion in my esophagus lining, a large hiatal hernia, about 20 or more polyps in my stomach and a few more things I can't remember. He told me he'd biopsied all of the suspicious areas and I'd get the results in a week to ten days. I'm not worried at all, which is really strange. I have a wonderful peace about everything and I know that's the result of many prayers going up for me.

When it was time to leave, a beautiful black nurse came to wheel me out. She had the sweetest smile and I told her so. I could tell by her sweet spirit that she was a believer and I told her I could see Jesus sticking out all over her. She laughed and thanked me. She said she needed to hear that and said she was indeed a believer. I told her how blessed we are to have a mighty Savior and she agreed. It was so nice to share a little of our faith with each other. God always plants special people in my path and as I listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting, I know which ones to share a word of encouragement with and when.

We left the hospital and my hubby asked if I was hungry. I hadn't been able to eat anything before the tests and although I wasn't really hungry, I knew he was so I said, "Sure." We ran by a fast food restaurant and grabbed a couple of biscuits and headed on home.

I'm feeling remarkably well today and I have a lot to accomplish including reading some of my new book, "Never Fear Cancer Again." Although cancer is always in the back of my mind, I'm trying not to let it come to the forefront again. I'm continuing to do everything I can to stay healthy and strong. So far, so good! If adversity truly makes us stronger, then I must be a power lifter.  I've certainly had my share of trials and tribulations, in fact, enough to last a lifetime but I'm sure God doesn't have the same view I do. I know He has used my trials to teach me some very valuable lessons over the years and I wouldn't take a million dollars for any of those lessons. I am thankful for tough lessons but I'd rather have easy ones. Don't we all feel that way?

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

What's in your belly?

I'm getting a little nervous about Friday. I'll be having an EGD done that day. What's an EGD, you say? Well, it's a test used to discover any abnormalities in your esophagus, gastrointestinal system, and your duodenum. (You can read more about that here or watch an informational video about it here.) It seems the last one I had done, a little over 3 years ago, revealed stomach polyps, a hiatal hernia, and Barrett's esophagus. Since I was diagnosed with breast cancer 20 months ago, they want to recheck the polyps in my stomach and do biopsies on them. I'm not looking forward to being sedated again but I know it's necessary. I'm just praying that anything that needs to be seen will be clearly visible and that the doctor will have the wisdom he needs for the best treatment options. All that being said, I'm thankful we have insurance to cover the cost of the procedure. Hopefully, everything will be okay but if it's not, at least they'll find it early and be able to do whatever they need to do to take care of it. Please pray for NO CANCER!!!

Last night, we had our first date night in ages. We didn't do anything fancy, just went to dinner and a movie, but it was good to FEEL NORMAL again. Even though I wore my prostheses all evening, things almost felt like they did BEFORE CANCER and that was a good thing! It feels good to know I'm taking baby steps at reclaiming my life. It seems like it's been so long since I've felt normal. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's experienced this after being dealt the cancer card but it would have been nice to have had a "head's up" and to have known all of the emotional struggles that might come my way...then again, it's probably better that I didn't. At least this way, I can face them one at a time, as they come and that seems to be a good strategy in winning this war. 

© bonnie annis all rights reserved