Bad news

So I had my scans on Friday morning. Overall the physical scans were fine. Nothing spectacular sticks out. No particularly good omens, but no bad ones either.

I was automatically scheduled for the scanner I like in the morning and I had set up an appointment with my gyn onc NP in the afternoon.

The scans didn't take very long, so Geoff and I had a few hours to ourselves in between. On the way out of the hospital we stopped to smell the roses (not the main entrance for those wondering what I'm talking about), then we heard the UW marching band practicing. We found the practice field and watched them for a little bit. I was thrilled to have street sweeper come by at the same time (I have a secret inexplicable love for street sweepers). Then we went for lunch and made a quick trip to one of our favorite garden centers.

We were back in time for the 1 pm appointment. We were put in a room right away and a little bit later we were told they were still waiting on results. At about 2 I started to panic. I'd been guarded about everything up until that point but ok. Then suddenly it just didn't seem right. Geoff reassured me it was fine and this always happens (the delay). Just as I was about to start up again the door opened and in walked my NP. 

She was smiling and my instant reaction was "oh thank god!" but then she started talking. Everything she was saying was about how she wasn't supposed to have to give me bad news, that was the deal, and that she debated sitting in the back all day hoping it would change...I wish that would have worked.

Anyway, the results weren't good. Some of the sites that had regressed are back and there are new sites including the one I found a week before. I actually looked at my own scan so I was able to verify. I guess the good part of that is I don't have to wonder about my skill level at finding enlarged lymph nodes on patients. I'm pretty sure I can do it since I found this one all on my own.

We talked about the results some more and then my NP asked if we wanted to see one of the oncologists. It's not my oncologist, but we know her very well bc I would frequently see her on Tuesday mornings before chemo (aka chemo clinic). My oncologist doesn't do chemo clinic so I always had to see one of the others and this was our favorite. I knew it wasn't going to set anything in stone, but I said "sure, why not."

It took a little while before they both returned. Geoff and I talked and cried. I debated leaving multiple times. Then they came back and honestly, I wanted to run. I'm not claustrophobic, but I felt trapped at that moment. We were stuck in a little corner with people and equipment blocking our way to the door on the other side of the room. I kept thinking who the hell designed these rooms? They've obviously never been given bad news and this is a damn oncology clinic. What do you expect?

The oncologist expressed her anger and frustration with the cancer. She told us we have options and talked about them a bit. She brought me journal articles to read about the options. She reassured me she would talk to my oncologist before we saw him Monday so he would know what she had already talked to us about.

I asked her if she thought it was still worth trying the treatments, fully acknowledging that it didn't matter what she said I was going to go for it anyway. She has a great bedside manner and she assured us it was, but then acknowledged that they would do whatever I want at the point. Then she was bluntly honest and said that if I wanted to stop they would respect it, but try to talk me out of it. I reassured them that I want to fight this. Both my NP and the oncologist agreed they would do the same.

Then she talked about how this was never going to be an easy fight and how frustrating it has been. The treatments seem to make the cancer go away and then it seems to find a way to outsmart us and come back. She looked me in the eyes and told me it is going to take a miracle.

After that I don't know what anyone said. I already knew what she verbalized, but everything seemed too close in and all I cared about was being done. I nodded yes to everything and got out of there as fast as possible.

It's the second time this year that I was told I'm going to die. There was a lot of hope in the middle and suddenly it was all gone. I was told if I did nothing she was fairly certain I would still be here in 6 months. 6 months? That's next February! 

Geoff and I left two hours later with heavy hearts and feeling crushed. We talked endlessly and both agreed we didn't feel like facing anyone. Though I have to insert that I did see an old friend as we were leaving the hospital. Her oldest and E are almost the same age and we used to go to mother-baby hour together. She is a nurse and was discharging a patient. She gave me a hug and honestly, it made my day.

After that, despite not wanting to be social we decided to run to my work. I had started back the day before and I wanted to show Geoff the labs and my new office before it was crowded with students. I introduced him to my co-worker who he knows I idolize. At the same time we discussed whether I should quit my job and/or school. I've been told multiple times I could go on social security and while there is temptation to not have to work and to be able to do what I want with my never enough time, I love my job. I don't want to be on social security and I don't want to give up on life.

We headed home and talked more and both realized we had done a lot of things differently since the last scan. I had changed my diet, I had been getting a lot more sleep, I had been practicing daily affirmations and meditation, and multiple other alternative therapies before the scan in May. After the mid-chemo scans everything regressed. Not just a little, but a lot. I frequently live off of 5 hours/night sleep. I have a terrible diet. I'm constantly trying to do too much with too little time which means I'm always stressed.

I've known this was going to come back to bite me and I don't think it is the only reason the scans were bad, but I definitely think it contributed. In all honesty, my first thought about the bad scans was I guess I have more to learn.

Cancer has taught me a lot. It has given me perspective and wisdom I didn't have and I'm not sure I would get otherwise. For everything I have lost, I have gained something else. It hasn't always been worth it, and certainly I would have chosen a different path, but I am able to see the gifts I have been given from this difficult path.

At this time, I'm still processing it all. I'm pissed that I'm not in remission and I have to start chemo again. I'm afraid of what I'm going to loose this time. I'm more afraid than ever that I'll loose my life and  I won't get to be with my family or see my wonderful kids grow up. All of this hurts too deeply for words. I'm frustrated that I have worked so hard in school and life and I may never get to see the fruits of my labor. It all seems so unfair.

At the same time, I believe in miracles and I believe that I am meant to be one. I believe that I need to take better care of myself and prioritize my needs more instead of just talking about it. I need to find ways to eliminate stress in my life and live more simplify. I need time for meditation, yoga, massage, reiki, and other healing therapies.

I can't cure myself, but I can heal myself, so that is what I'm going to do. It doesn't hurt to try.

On that note, I don't want to worry about getting to the gym or Gilda's for yoga classes or whether or not I'm able to keep up with others. I was wondering if anyone had any yoga DVDs they are no longer using that they would care to share or (ahem) copy or even recommend? I'd rather not spend the money only to find out I don't really like the one that's packaging most attracted me. 

Tomorrow I go back and we will talk with my normal oncologist. We'll see what he recommends. His previous plan B and C were not the same as what was recommended on Friday so I'm telling myself we have many options, though I know that is quickly fading too. It sucks to have to make choices when you don't feel like you fully understand all the options and your life is on the line. There is always this sense of hurry, hurry, hurry and make decisions ASAP, but I want to know what I'm really deciding this time and I want to know that it is what is right for me and my family.