Went in for my PET scan last week but didn't realize that I wasn't supposed to even do a tube feed that morning (no food, Joe, and what do you think the Kate Farms stuff is? Liquified food.) and so my glucose levels were too high to do the scan. It would cause inaccurate readings. Fortunately, they had an early morning opening the very next day and so I took that.
I made sure to have nothing but water after 6:00 that evening before as I didn't want anything to interfere with getting the scan done. Scan was completed successfully and it was (and is) a matter of waiting.
We did get results via MyChart, but trying to accurately interpret what the results say is akin to trying to understand what Elon Musk is actually trying to accomplish with Twitter, or how a Tik Tok ban can actually be enforced, or how the tension on the TV show Succession can get any more tense (and we've only watched season 1!). What we were able to get out of it was that everything was "partially reduced" in various amounts and measurements. It listed numbers and medical jargon, but what that actually means is another thing entirely. It did also say that, while reduced, the cancer is still in my lymph node. And that could very well be problematic. That's the thing that has us worried about what the oncology surgeon is going to say tomorrow.
Tomorrow. 3:30 p.m. That's our appointment time with the surgeon at Johns Hopkins. I was able to speak to my oncologist today and he doesn't think that the lymph node is necessarily a roadblock for the surgical determination, but...he's not the surgeon. So, we'll see. Anxiously waiting. I also have a follow up with the radiologist tomorrow.
The scan also happened to mention that I had some bladder stones, with one rather large one "in the chamber". You can figure that one out. Oddly enough, I passed it that evening, and no, it wasn't pleasant. It was quick though. One ZING of pain and a bladder stone the size of a large lemon seed was in the toilet.
On a positive note, I've been feeling a lot better - more energy, focus, and a bit more strength. I'm up and about more, undertaking small chores, jobs, or tasks around our new home. Jess and I have had several excursions, even if that just means going to the store together, or running errands. I'm eating meals! I am no longer relying on the tube, but actually eating food and having normal meals. It feels absolutely wonderful to taste, chew, and enjoy actual food. And it's nice to enjoy something as simple as a meal together, with Jess. The mucus and saliva has finally stopped. I'm no longer carrying a spit cup around everywhere I go. That is a relief beyond reliefs!
We're mostly settled into the new house and things are coming together. The dogs love the open, fenced in yard and have lots of fun fetching the ball or chasing each other. My game room will get its first action this weekend when Jess's oldest (Zachary) and his girlfriend (Hailey) come down to visit. I've been organizing it and hanging up maps and decorations and cool art and posters. Jess and I made a leaf for the table and so it is now a nice gaming size. We desperately need to sell our house though as trying to balance both rent and a mortgage is not something we can sustain in the long run. Not on top of medical bills and expenses. It's a very tight economic game right now, but we're trying to do the best we can. Like we need more things to agonize over right now... But being in civilization, close to the medical facilities was the move we had to make. Staying in the woods, far removed from everything, was just not a feasible option.
I imagine I'll be posting again real soon, after we speak with the surgeon and know what the next step is. Your continued messages and support remind Jess and I that we are not alone in this and that there lots of people out there who care about us quite a bit. We continue to be appreciative of that and embrace your support. It's been a long, hard road and we still have a long way to go. Thanks for walking with us.
- j