Scan Day

So I’ve been feeling really good since starting the synthroid and neupogen shots.  I’ve had more energy and my mood has significantly improved.  I’ve been feeling a lot more like myself.  What a relief!  Sometimes you just wonder when the fog will ever lift.

Of course, with cancer, things never stay the same and everything is always changing.  Tuesday was scan day.  I wasn’t going in with any expectations in either direction, just calmly went for the scans.  Or so I thought.  By the time I got home from my scan I was nauseous and anxious and exhausted.  I hadn’t had anything to eat in 14 hours but had swallowed 3 bottles of contrast, more contrast via IV, and a handful of pills, so that may account for some of the nausea.  In any event, I still wasn’t allowed to eat yet because of my pill schedule and ended up heaving in the bathroom.  So not fun.  With nothing in my belly I was only spitting up blood and water. TMI?  Tough, this is my blog.  Trust me; I’ve spared you worse details.

I dragged myself to the couch to cry it out until I was allowed to eat.  That’s when the demons started to come out.  Those terrible thoughts that invade your brain like the cancer that has invaded your body.  The worry.  The what if.  The why me. It all showed up with a vengeance. 

I sat in my living room alone crying.  Crazy thoughts running through my head.  How many years do I have left?  Do I have 5 years? Do I have 50 years?  Will I ever get to experience life the way I did before?  I want sushi.  I want to be able to make new recipes and taste them.  I want to be able to plan a vacation with my husband.  Do I get long term care insurance if they offer it at work?  How much life insurance can I get through work?  If I ever leave my job or get fired I am totally uninsurable.  I just want to feel normal again.  I feel cheated.  I won’t get to experience pregnancy with my friends as planned. We won’t get to have play dates and commiserate over child rearing.  I will never watch my child experience the sheer joy of discovering the world.  I got menopause; at age 32.  And while I don’t miss the cramps and tampons, let’s face it, this sucks.  Why can’t life be fair?  Why can’t cancer go after the people who have already lost their will to live?  Or those people who are mean and nasty and do bad things to others.   

I text with my derby wife and she talks me off the ledge.  Finally it is time for me to eat.  I want to go out somewhere and get something but I am so hungry I need something now.  I eat random things from our kitchen until I’ve at least taken the edge off.  I rest for a while and then decide I should probably venture out.

I go to Perkins to get an omelet and pancakes but when I get there I find there’s only one car in the parking lot.  Just one.  There’s no way they are open.  One guy can’t be my waiter and cook.  I don’t bother getting out of the car and go elsewhere to look for food.  I end up at Applebee’s which is really not a favorite of mine but I figure I should be able to find something.  I order an appetizer sampler and when it comes I immediately regret it.  I try eating as much as possible but can’t’ even make it through half.  Eating is so exhausting sometimes. 

Afterwards, I go to Costco and find that as I am walking around I am getting winded.  I need to stop to catch my breath several times and think, “I just need to finish my list and get out of there as quickly as possible.” I can’t even pull my items out of the cart to put them on the conveyer belt.  I’m concerned and scared.  Have my hemoglobin levels suddenly dropped to dangerous levels? Do I need a blood transfusion?  I manage to get everything into my car but when I get home the walk from the car to the house leaves me gasping.  Ugh.  What is happening to me?  The shortness of breath continues the rest of the night and is visited by the occasional bout of dizziness.  I speak to the nurse at the hospital and she says she will call me in the morning.

The next morning they call and tell me to come in for blood work and a physical exam.  Some of my numbers are low but not low enough to warrant a blood transfusion or any other action on their part.  They chalk my symptoms up to contrast on an empty stomach full of pills and anxiety.

I have now officially made myself physically ill with anxiety.  Great.  I hate scans.  They are so nerve wracking.  I find out my results tomorrow.  I will get to either rest easy for another eight weeks or scrap my treatment plan and start over.  I’m so over cancer.