Last week I had scans again. Sometimes I am able to have scans and not be too anxious about it. This time was NOT one of those times. I had so much scanxiety! Probably because my PET scan last time showed growth of the tumors and I've been so off and on with my meds as I work up to a full dosage.
However, I hadn't realized that a great expectation of improvement had oozed into my brain. After my previous appt. with Dr. Esplin, when my tumor marker had dropped so dramatically, I think I imagined those tumors just suffering and dying so very fast. I wasn't even aware that I was expecting that.
So he had his nurse call me that afternoon. (If he calls, it's usually bad news, if nurses call, it's okay) So she told me that there was a decrease in size of a few lymph nodes and my bones remained stable.
Good news right? Apparently not, because I just began to cry. I was upset, I wanted more. I think I had been expecting my miracle like I read about (Kristi there is NO sign of Cancer in your entire body and we can't explain it) Then over the next few days, I was mad at myself for not being happy about good news.
So I had my appt. with Esplin and he showed me my scans (I don't know how anyone can learn to read and understand those things) So there was one tumor in my mediastinal lymph nodes (Somewhere in my chest area between my lungs) that was no longer visible on the scans! Woohoo! My liver lesions and some other lymph nodes were definitely smaller and my bones were just hanging out and stable.
This was a bit better than I thought. So I was glad. My tumor markers both also came down more than 100 points. So I went home and I didn't feel excited, I just felt kind of numb.
I realized that I was scared to celebrate. Scared of letting down my guard because I know so well how chemo just stops working and I have to switch to yet another drug and the number of treatments I have left are dwindling.
So, I don't think I've mentioned this, but I have been talking with a social worker (therapist) at my oncologists building. Just over telehealth. He's been great. I talked to him on the day after my appt. about how I was scared to be excited, scared to let go. We've been talking a lot about the tug of war that I have in my mind about accepting the fact that I even have cancer. I'm still tugging, I still haven't accepted it and that's okay. I'm getting closer as time goes on. He told me an analogy which in now way comes close to what I'm going through (his words) but I liked it.
He mentioned being on the best vacation I've ever been on and finding out that I get to stay an extra week. How excited I'd be. Would I sit there and feel bad the whole week, thinking about that I was going to have to go home? No, I wouldn't want to waste my week that way, I'd enjoy and have fun.
So, like me, I need to think of this month as an extra week to live. A vacation of sorts from the bad news. Even though, I know that at some point, the vacation will be over and the chemo will stop working, I don't want to waste this time worrying about it ending.
So, I think we all know that, deep down. I know it, but I needed to be reminded that there's another way to look at it. I'm trying. It's easier said than done. I haven't completely let go of the fear to celebrate, but I'm working on it. I even sang in the car while driving the other day. It's been a long time since I've done that.
