WOOT!

I hope that my delay in blogging didn't worry anyone, but we got my pet scan results back. And the result was, in the doctor's words not mine, excellent. Woot! But, let me back you up and tell you the whole story.

So, in the week between taking the scan and finding out the results, my emotions were subject to roller coaster ups and downs. When I was being rational, which is hard to do for a normal person under the circumstances much less someone prone to irrationality like myself, I could look at the objective facts and be hopeful. I knew that my back has almost been completely pain free, whereas before I started out being up in almost constant pain. I knew that where my neck once had a lump which was visible to the naked eye and even more noticeable to the touch, I could feel absolutely nothing but muscle.
Yet my irrational side kept saying, but what if? This pessimism has some grounding in my history. Waiting for scans when my mom was sick was agonizing. Sometimes we got good news, and sometimes bad, and I taught myself to prepare for the worst. I forced myself to consider all the possibilities, so at least when I got the bad news I would be prepared....I would be ready. Although, you are never really ready to hear bad news. It can be scary to hope, because it is a horrible feeling when you hope for and expect the best, and you don't get good news.

So I didn't want to get my hopes up for these results, but Justin kept trying to convince me that based on all the evidence, the results would be good. I had a minor meltdown Sunday night, but Justin talked me through it. Then, I got positive, and I was doing great all the way to the doctor's office on Wednesday. When we got in the waiting room, the anxiety began to surge. I overheard the nurses trying to decide where to put me and I realized that they were putting me in a consultation room. I figured that if all was good, they would simply take me back to my chemo chair and the doctor would talk to me there. I thought that surely putting me in a private room, which hasn't been done since my first consultation, meant that they were breaking bad news to me. So when they took me back to take my blood pressure my heart was racing with fear.(notable fact: my blood pressure was 25 points lower this morning than it was yesterday morning) By the time Justin and I were in the consultation room I was in tears. We waited for 15 minutes or so, me anxiously pacing and tearing up and worrying and Justin calmly flipping through 3 months worth of skiing magazines (notably he wasn't as disturbed by the scenario as I). Finally, Dr. Black came in the room and took one look at me and asked, "Why do you look so terrified?" I told him that I was afraid that the test results were bad because they had put me in a room to talk with him. He told me that the test results were really good, and the nurses had put me back in the room because there weren't any chairs available at the moment. I believe that Justin gave me an "I told you so" look. Then I explained, perhaps moderately irrationally, that putting me back in the room was tantamount to psychological warfare. He said, "You know, I never thought about it that way, but I can see how them putting you back here could make you nervous. Good thing I didn't send in the grief counselor." Fantastic. An oncologist with a sense of humor.

The results were as follows: everything from my around my collar bone is gone; my spleen is clean; there's just a little bit left in my back and in my chest, but they are both greatly diminished. Hopes are that when he tests me after the next 2 rounds that everything will be gone. I will finish up in total 4 more rounds of chemotherapy either way and then we will discuss if he thinks we should do radiation.

But the treatment is working. I have every real hope of being cured as much as one can be cured from cancer. I feel like I know have the chance to think about my future seriously again. I feel as if I can begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I am hopeful. I am also a little sick at the moment from the treatment yesterday, but a little discomfort is worth getting well.

I feel it is important to mention this before I go. This past weekend, a dear man who was a friend of mine passed away after a battle with cancer. Len Roberts was one of kindest, most loving people I've ever met. He had a heart bigger that the state of Texas and a spirit as strong as his southern accent. I got to know him well when I was on the pastor nominating committee as we all sought the next pastor of Oak Cliff Presbyterian Church. His resoluteness to seek the will of God in calling a pastor, his determination to do the right thing and his willingness to work tirelessly easily earned my respect, but his character and loving nature earned my love and affection. My heart goes out to his family and loved ones. He will be greatly missed.