6 month scan results

Complete Remission!

I’ve been existing in this limbo state for a while. It’s been a particularly stressful day or so of waiting. Getting these scans has a way of making the abstract idea that one is sick much more concrete.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, the other day I was feeling down with all the future planning parents around me were doing. I held back from planning anything, all the while thinking, hmm, there’s a real chance I’ll be in treatment while you’re doing that awesome thing.

So I got the results yesterday. Kaiser sent an email. It wasn’t clear to me how to interpret what they sent over (I guess the lesson is when you train your doctors that you’ll go into all the details yourself they don’t even bother walking you through it!). Still I wish the medical profession, especially oncologists!, would give this event it’s due. Some people call it Scanxiety, and it’s real. You should not simply send a patient an email even if you’re busy, even if the news is positive. This requires some bedside manner. This is not the point and will be a totally separate post.

So I called them to follow up. The nurse told me that all is clear. There is no ‘metabolic’ activity. I was about to thank her for the news but realized I was choked up. I couldn’t speak. The tears exited my eye sockets and gravity dropped them from my face, pebbles. Then an avalanche. This wasn’t shock (shock has a way of blocking emotions). No, this was relief. It all spilled out and I couldn’t fight it. Didn’t want to.

In contrast, nobody in my family was surprised at all, including Michelle. I had been stressing over these scans for months. It was weird. Everyone said the same things, that I looked too healthy, was too positive. My perceptions offered a stark contrast. To me: (a) my back still hurts suggesting residual tumor, (b) periodic flutterings in my abdomen were reminiscent of what I felt previously (are the cells morphing?), (c) with months of distance from chemo treatment, those drugs are flushed from my body, so the cancer could take root. All reasonable, albeit speculative, over-corrective biases of a mind that’s overly attuned to bad news, I guess.

While I trusted the first scan result part of me really thought it was a fluke. That the real scan, the validating scan, is the 6 month scan, the one I just had. And for the first time in a great while it actually feels like I can REALLY get on with life. Like I’m walking out of prison. I now believe that I’m healthy.

Michelle and I did a date night last night to celebrate.

Whew.

I’m smiling more on the inside than in this pic.