No small talk, please....

So, I ask myself, which do I want to write first, the good news or the bad news? How about the good news, since there is no... bad news, HA!

I slept good last night, but woke up not feeling too good, and sort of having a light case of dread... knowing I had to go see my oncologist today. Since last Thursday when my radiologist told me that he was pretty sure that my oncologist was going to start me on chemotherapy as the follow up to the radiation treatments, I was preparing myself to hear that bit of news today, and then starting chemo treatments possibly this week even.

My oncologist is a very down to business kind of doctor. Not a lot of small talk if any, and he's just very straight forward and to the point. My mom didn't like him from the first time she met him almost ten years ago. Me, I liked him. A lot. He seemed like a good doctor to me. Mom likes to chat with her doctors and wants them to be very friendly and warm. This guy wasn't. At all. Mom didn't like how he broke the news to me that I had stage 3 cancer. While I wouldn't have minded if he was super friendly and personable, it didn't bother me that he wasn't. I'm not exactly a chatty person either. I'm a realist. Then later, when we asked our GP what he thought of him, he agreed that he didn't have a terrific bedside manner, but that he was one of the best cancer doctors in the city. That was all I needed to hear, because I already liked his personality.

I think I appreciated the way he would look you straight in the eyes when talking to you and didn't talk down to you, and I think he's maybe a little shy like myself. And sometimes he surprises me... In the Fall of '08 I had an appointment on election day, and when he came in the room, I was expecting him to be his usual get down to business right away, no platitudes other than "How are you doing?", but he took me off guard and asked me if I had voted yet. I think it was the first time he ever had broken out any kind of small talk with me. I told him that I had voted absentee, and he said that was the way to do it. I guess he must have had to stand in line a while to wait to vote.

If I didn't like him before, I really like him after today.

I don't know why but I allowed mom to stay in the room for my exam this time. Normally I would have her wait and then come in after to hear what the doctor has to say, but I didn't want to have to bother with retrieving her.

The doctor came in with a young woman who was carrying a notepad or something. I assumed she was in training, but he never introduced her to me or told me the reason she was following him into the room. He asked how I was doing and asked when I finished with the radiation treatments and asked if I had a CT scan, etc. Mom told him that I'd also had a PET scan. Then he did something he always does... takes both my hands, holds them out in front of me, then feels my neck, collar etc. Then taps my back, asks if there is any pain. Also asks how my arms feel... he had informed me last time that this kind of cancer I had could make my arm hurt.

The young woman observed his examination (the dreaded pap smear, etc) and then they left to return after I dressed. I was sure I wasn't going to have to have a pap smear again since I'd just had one a couple months ago when I was last there. Again I was wrong. They always do it. I need to get used to that certainty.

He went over my scan and PET results and said that the lump had shrunk and said that I probably noticed that, and I agreed that I couldn't even feel any of it now. He asked what my radiologist had planned now, and I told him that he hadn't said and we were suppose to find out from him. I hadn't expected that question. Hm. Anyway, then he said that since the CT scans and the PET scans had only shown the neck area incidents of cancer (my words), and since the lump was shrinking we would be okay to just let it go for now, and that it wouldn't be necessary to treat it with chemo since there wasn't really anything to treat and why put my body through chemo when there wasn't any other signs of cancer anywhere else. He said that I would know if the cancer shows up again - it would make itself known to me, but that it might not come back. We will just have to wait and see. So, I go back in four months... then he will schedule a new CT scan before I see him the time after then. No chemo. At least not now.

Unbelievable. I am so happy, and I have the best oncologist in the universe :)

Oh yea, on the way out we got some small talk. He asked if we were going to the state fair. Mom said, "No thank you!" And I said I had enough of the fair when I was younger. He laughed.

Good News Bad News

So I ask myself, which do I want to write first? The good news or the bad news? The good news of course -- bad news is annoying.

I had my CT scan today. Boy, did that go fast. Just the neck so I didn't even have to hold my breath. And the sweet lady that did the scan told me I had beautiful eye lashes. So sweet. She was really nice and very attentive. She got me and mom to a room to wait for the doctor.

The nurse came in to do the usual rundown and it was a nurse that I've had a lot, even back in 2007. She kind of freaked us out at first because she seemed confused as to why I was there and asked if I had had a scan because they were going to treat a new area. Um, NO. Yea, we straightened that out fast.

The doc came in and we joked and talked about his foot, which he had fractured and had in a fancy boot. Then he went to check on the CT scan to see if he could find out anything. He came back and told me that the tumor had shrunk more than half it's original size. He gave me numbers but I can't remember them -- you know how I am with numbers. We were all pleased with that and he said he would make sure that my oncologist got the CT results, and that we would see what he says. Mom then asked if he thought that he might decide to have me do chemotherapy. I held my breath, hoping against hope that I would somehow get to escape it. He said that it was possible and that he thought that it was probably what my doctor would suggest next. Damn.

Of course, maybe he won't.

But I've been thinking about it, and since the tumor is still there, though he said it would continue to shrink, maybe it's best I have the chemo to make sure it has less of a chance of coming back. I don't know. So, I have a week until I go see the oncologist and find out my fate.

I think the thing that scares me the most is the nausea. I hate feeling nauseous. I hate throwing up.

So, the bad news kind of ruined my day, but I'm okay and I have beautiful eye lashes ;)

The Scream

No CT scan on Tuesday. The doc hurt his foot and had to reschedule, so I'll be doing it tomorrow.

So, ever since I had the radiation mask made for me, I thought about what I might do with it when my treatments were over. I could have thrown it away or used it as a pasta strainer... but what I really wanted to do was to paint it. Almost everyday while wearing it during treatments I thought of what I might paint on it. My first idea was to somehow make it into a spongebob squarepants mask, but I couldn't figure out how to make a rounded object into a squarepants head.

Then my creative, fun-loving sister-in-law Lisa decided that we would have a costume contest on our summer vacation at the lake cabin. The contest was that each person or family would have to come up with a costume and there would be a delightful prize to be won for the best costume. Well, I couldn't think of anything and pretty much immediately decided I would just paint my mask and that would be my costume.

I finally decided to paint something I thought was wildly appropriate for a torture device such as my radiation mask. I decided to paint Eduard Munch's famous painting "The Scream" on my mask. It doesn't get more symbolic than that, right?

Hi Stupid Cancer Blog

Hi, Stupid Cancer Blog.... I never really did explain the title of this blog. When I say "stupid cancer blog", I'm not saying the blog itself is stupid (though maybe ill-advised), what I'm saying is that the cancer is stupid. Really stupid.

So, I am back from a week at the lake with family. What a great family. They are all so wonderful and I am truly thankful to belong. I don't deserve them but I am damn glad to have them.

A week away is a week away from cancer too, in a way. I didn't think to even check the lump once to see if it was still there, or not. I was surprised to notice I can't feel any of it anymore. Again, the mystery of where it went still intrigues me, though not enough to really do anything about it. It is stupid cancer anyway.

Tomorrow I go get a new CT scan on the neck. I don't have to drink any contrast liquid so I don't have to fast before going. I probably won't eat before going anyway; I usually don't. Then the CT scan results travel to my oncologist, who hopefully will get it by the time I go see him next week.

Baby Soft

I have the recipe for really soft skin. RADIATION! The skin on my neck and under my chin is soft as a baby's butt!

I imagine that has to do with the skin burning and new skin replacing it. But not all the skin was burned so I'm not sure about that. Very strange but really nice side effect, eh?

Need to Know?

As the tumor shrinks day after day, I wonder where it is going. And why doesn't it take other things with it? I really should educate myself on radiation and how it works. You shouldn't be treated with something that you don't fully understand, right? I mean, I know radiation in itself causes cancer, as well as it killing cancer. I don't know how or why. I know it has damaged my body over the years. I had two other radiation treatment therapies, once in 2001 and then again in 2007, besides this latest one. I know that the previous ones damaged my kidneys.

I don't know, maybe it's better to not know everything....

Joy to the World

I had my first follow up with my radiology doctor, and when we weren't all chatting about his son's upcoming wedding, he looked at my neck and agreed with me that the lump had shrunk. He decided that I should have a new CT scan before I go to see my oncologist at the end of August. I am glad about that. It seems a waste to go see him if I don't have some way to show him the results of what the radiation treatments have done. I am just hoping that he doesn't recommend I have chemotherapy.

I can't believe it is August. I hate the thought of summer being over. Hate it so much. Even if my summer was spent driving back and forth to Maplewood every day and putting that hideous mask on.

Happily I was able to spend a couple hours on Monday with my childhood friend Joy, who was in town from North Carolina to visit her dad and some family. Nothing beats connecting with someone you've known your whole life and catching up. She is a wonderful person and I am very lucky to always have her love and support.