Thanksgiving was great. I ate and I laughed and I felt normal. Fresh off clean scans. Life felt as close to it used to be as I could remember.
Yesterday that all came to a crashing halt. HALT. Like...instant.
Remember that time 10 days ago I had stabbing stomach pains and spent the day in emergency only to exit with claims by the doctors that they didn't see anything on my CT scan to indicate emergent abdominal pain? I left thinking my scans were all good. After all, 2 different doctors had reviewed them and sent me home.
Me being who I am, I always want copies of ALL and ANY workups, scans, bloodwork, notes etc. taken on me. I have a file thicker than the oncologists, that is no joke. I have all the history, comments and reports.
I called my family doctor to gain access to the reports done in the emergency room. He is a great and thorough doctor with a kind way so I never hesitate to ask him for my reports. He says every patient should have access to their own health records.
His office called me to say he wanted to speak to me about the results before sending them over...just protocol. I wasn't alarmed. Then I remembered the last time I asked for them the nurses just emailed them to me no problem. I panicked.
When he called he asked me what the doctors told me at the emergency. I said they said "all good". Then....the pause....and I knew. Not all good. Not good at all.
The abdominal CT scan happened to pick up the middle and lower part of my right lung and capture a nodule that measured 5.8mm. This nodule was not there on my CT scan of the same area a month prior. THis means one of two things:
I have aggressive lung cancer spreading at a rapid pace.
I have inflammation in my subpleural space which is benign and will resolve.
The odds of either being true are exactly 50/50. Fuck.
So obviously PTSD kicked in and I was right back pretty much where I was almost a year ago with the mammogram and ultrasound except this time we have to wait 4 weeks to see how this thing grows or changes before any further action can be taken. Right now the nodule (which is what they call tiny tumors) is too small to biopsy to determine if it's cancer right now. So.....we wait. Omg. Can you imagine?
Cancer means Stage IV Metastatic. Incurable. Stage IV means maybe more chemo or cyberknife or more drugs I can't afford. Stage IV means usually 2 years max. Alive.
I called my naturopath and had a meltdown. She told me same. 50/50 there's no way to know until we see how this nodule behaves and then we'll know. She did offer me Artesunate treatment which is proactive and prevents lung cancer from spreading. I accepted. I can not really afford this, but what was I going to say. I have to.
So....My Go Fund Me is back up and running. https://ca.gofundme.com/f/ej6qr3-keep-hope-alive-for-sara I know when to ask for help. Andra runs the Go Fund me so she'll post an update on the site soon.
It's one of those things that cancer has taught me. Ask for help when you need it. SOme people ask for some help and when they've had it they figure people don't want to help anymore.
Although my pride would see me sink into such immeasurable debt to avoid having to ask for help, the messages from all of the people over the past week encouraging me to restart the GO Fund me have lead me to believe otherwise. I can honestly say hundreds of people messaged me saying I should restart the fund. So there it is.
On an emotional level I feel right back where I started, waiting to see if I have cancer, but this time around if I do, there's no cure and the treatments will be life long. If I do this time, we're not talking decades. We might not even be talking years. Wait and see....
One person I know in one of the cancer groups I'm in on facebook told me today "there's no point in worrying for 4 weeks, that's wasted time. When the 4 weeks is up if you need to worry then that's when you do it. For now you have 4 weeks off from worrying". Easier said than done.
I feel afraid and alone and don't have the resources to manage this new round of treatments. My doctor wont let me go back to work and I don't have any benefits. My drug coverage through Ontario ran out when chemo was over and I am afraid for the times to come both emotionally, physically and financially.
This is the hardest part. The part they don't tell you about with cancer. I'm sitting here today....and I'm doing everything I can but sometimes these things they just pop up. And now I have to wait. Not days, not weeks, but likely over a month. Just to find out what the next step is....if there is one. I'll try to stay off google but that is hard to do when you're living with such uncertainty and you're a research oriented individual.
I did have the occasion today to think to myself that if I hadn't gone to emerg for that stomach pain they wouldn't have seen the nodule, we wouldn't be chasing it now. I wondered if someone/thing was looking out for me then. Giving me an edge. I don't know. I don't know much today. It's unnerving.
I still believe that everything has a reason and a purpose but days like yesterday and today I feel a little sorry for myself and wonder why me. Oh well, tonight I'll go to the bowling alley and bowl with my left hand. I'll learn slowly how to live in the world setback after setback until it's over. Getting on with it is the hard part. It's easy to slip into the "stay in bed" hole. This morning I went to a ride class and felt better for it. This afternoon I had a good cry and wrote letters to my future adult children for I feared I'd miss most of their lives. That really sucks. It's a heart wrenching that's unimaginable.
I'll turn it around slowly this weekend before my kids come back to me because this time I have reinforces the fact that any day could turn on a dime. Any day could be our last and the only thing we really have control over are our thoughts.
I am choosing to believe this nodule, this pesky little thing is nothing but inflammation. Join me in these thoughts for they can move mountains. Imagine it dissolving and me looking forward to a Christmas in remission.
Comments