More Tests

Once you have been treated for cancer, it is easy to slip in a routine of living from test to test. They key is to LIVE between tests versus anxiously waiting. Any cancer survivor will tell you that the periodic scan can be the most nerve wracking experience in your life.

I flew to Houston at 6 am on Tuesday and was in tests until 10pm that day. I'm not sure what time MD Anderson closes - or if they do for that matter, but there was a good crowd at 10 when I left the building. If they sold slurpees in the lobby, they could probably operate as a 7-11.

This was my 90 day scan - my 30 day scan was in August and was really my last post. I have actually been in a considerable amount of pain over the last 60 days. At times, it feels like someone is doing oragami with my sternum. Additionally, there has been some swelling to where there is a knot of sorts on my sternum. Needless to say, I didn't take these as especially promising signs.

I of course shared them with my medical team over the past 60 days with their response being two fold: "let's wait for the next scan" and "what kind of pain medication would you like". To the latter, I opted for ibuprofen and a mild narcotic. Let me tell you, nothing makes a work day go by faster or smoother than a nice, mild narcotic! Everyone was so much nicer to work with. In fact, I have no doubt that they would comment the same about me were I to have enough meds to hand out to everyone in the office. I could replace the mint jar with a platter of pain pills. They'd also make fantastic stocking stuffers.

In all seriousness, I fortunately did not have to revert to meds that often and they were very, very mild. The bigger concern was of course the swelling and pain. With all of this going on, I was not expecting great results from my scan. The old addage "you should listen to your body" has proven to be true over the years and my body was talking up a storm.

Speaking of which, I am amazed that some individuals can have a substantial tumor and not know it. By substantial, I'm talking the size of a medium sized dog. Whenever I have had any issues of note (say anything bigger than a grape), I've had significant pain. That's good I guess.

Several months ago I was at MDA awaiting an x-ray. Prior to administering the x-ray they route you to a locker room where you can change shirts - essentially take off your t-shirt and put on some scrubs. Why they require that, I don't know. I guess a lot of patients in Houston break out their "bedazzler" on their shirts or something. The scrubs ensure that the shirt is non metallic. Anyway, there was a guy sitting across from me changing for the same reason. We were sitting in what amounted to a large closet, almost like a prison cell, so I naturally felt inclined to ask the prison classic "what are you in for?". He proceeded to rattle off a form of carcinoma that I had never heard of and shared that he had a 35 pound tumor 12 years ago when he was first diagnosed. He was a big guy, but not that big. Amazing that he could have unknowingly had something that big. Amazing that he is still thriving 12 years afterwards. And amazing that my situation pales in comparison to his. I had to remind myself that it's not a competition.

Which brings me back to the scans. I had a CT, PET CT, x-ray, and blood tests performed. The blood tests looked great, the x-ray was uneventful, the CT was clean, but the PET still shows some metabolic activity in my upper sternum.

I actually obtained an electronic copy of my scans prior to my appointment so that I could better converse with my doctors. Oddly enough, you can go down to the medical records department and get your results before you meet with the doctor. It's some kind of medical self service feature - almost like a drive through. Somehow it takes the edge of waiting if you control when you get the information versus sitting in a windowless room.

Sure enough, there is a slight amount of metabolic activity going on where I'm experiencing the pain and swelling. The bad news is that it is painful. The great news is that the doctors are not really concerned by it and believe that it is simply damage to the bone. So we are calling it a clean scan - I continue to be in remission! The doctors told me to ignore the pain and swelling - that I can do.....I think.

The top portion of my sternum looks a bit like swiss cheese at this point. The combination of cancer, radiation and chemotherapy have been a bit tough on it. The thought is that the scan is reflecting changes in the bone and that I'll probably continue to have some discomfort with it for some time. That's the least of my worries. We agreed that I would do a follow up scan in 90 days (just a CT this time) and then ideally move to a scan every 6 months.

God willing, I'm at the end of this chapter of my little journey. I want to take a moment to thank Jodi and the kids, my family, co-workers, and friends for riding along with me. I'll continue to provide updates but hopefully they will be few and far between. That is of course unless something bazzar or noteworthy should happen to me in the meantime.

God Bless,

Bob