5/6/10

The nausea continues. As does the fatigue. Although the fatigue isn't a "sleepy" sort, it's more along the lines of "make your body weak but your mind completely awake so you can lay on the couch and contemplate you nausea." (...and now please welcome to the stage: sore mouth and perpetually foggy mind!)

I think maybe I'm just especially impatient this time. I try to keep in mind that I can't be too hard on myself if It's not a perfectly uphill slope from here. I know that I'll have more and more great days, but I know that I'll also have days where I still don't have the strength (or mental clarity) to do what I used to do. I guess this is as good a time as any to learn how to be easy on myself once and a while.

I want to be on a bike ride in the sun. Or a hike. Anything.

Also, I'm definitely feeling some "scanxiety" over my PET scan tomorrow. I feel like a burden on anyone I might ask to go with me, so I think I'm going alone. I know it's silly, and the process is painless and has less (noticeable) side effects than a CT scan, but there's something about getting a radioactive substance injected intravenously that really freaks me out. Not to mention, it might take a miracle (or several dozen tries and a few blow-outs) for anyone to place the IV catheter. I guess there's a little girl inside of me that just wants someone there to hold her hand.

Anyhoo, here's an outline of the process, as I remember it: The nice people down at the CT/PET office have me fill out various sorts of paperwork ("Are you pregnant? Is there any chance you could be pregnant? At all? Are you pregnant and maybe you just forgot? Etc, etc.) Then they explain the procedure and place an IV (easier said than done.) Next they break out a syringe that looks like it's out of a sci-fi movie (complete with a crazy looking lead tube covering the body of the syringe- pictures to follow, hopefully) and inject the radioactive sugar substance to my arm via IV. Next is the boring part. They have me lay back and move as little as possible in a recliner for an hour to let the sugar metabolize. After the hour is up, they lay me down in the scan thingy (gown on, pants at the ankles) and the scan begins. It takes about 15 minutes or so of whirring and spinning things, and then it's done. (See? It's not that big a deal- hence my hesitance in dragging someone along to sit for two hours.)

On the Monday following, I have an appointment with the Onc to go over results. Anything lighting up on the scan= bad news (that means there are quite a few active cancerous cells remaining) Nothing lighting up on the scan= NED (no evidence of disease.) Then we talk about radiation. And remission!

All I want is a clean scan. Please please please.