Wednesday, May 26, 2010
last friday I had the five-year scan.
well, it was really a five and a half year scan, but at the end of June I'm up to five years of hormone treatment. at which point there is no need to keep taking the pills/shots any more; there is no guarantee of course but there is no added benefit in going on with the drugs.
so. a CT scan, complete with that weird hot/flushed feeling in all my soft tissues. a bone scan, complete with 20 minutes of lying very still while my body slides slowly up and down under a camera that can see into my very bones. oh, and a blood test the previous day, just for added fun.
I did pretty well over the weekend, but by yesterday morning, with my appointment with the oncologist in the afternoon, I was a bit anxious. I went to the pool and swam until the last possible moment, all the time feeling a little detached from my body. the CT scan is the answer, really; it shows up an tumors that might be quietly forming in the depths. five years is not "cured" - I think that's 10 - but it's something I had no great reason to expect to live, let alone be cancer-free, when I was first diagnosed.
so the lovely Dr M. walks into the room and the first thing he says, bless him, knowing I'm freaking out, is "the test results look good." The rest of the appointment was basically us congratulating each other on being so good at our jobs/sticking with the treatment respectively. of course he had a poke about, just in case, but still failed to find anything of interest. a bit of arthritis and I'm a little anaemic. hah! chickenfeed!
all of which means I am not going to die. I am going to see my little boy grow up. I can banish that voice in the back of my head that worries about what he would do without me.
it also means I might actually have another baby. even the thought, the image of another little boy or girl seems like some kind of unreachable, heavenly fantasy. another child. they are pretty good things to have, really.
it's also crossed my mind that I could just not, and get on with doing as much as I can with the life I appear to be going to have; travel, work etc. but I suspect I'll go for the baby option. yet to discuss with husband. husband may not get much of a say in it.
....and in the last few days I've noticed myself getting through the fear with a kind of grim get-on-with-it-ness. and I am starting to see how this has changed me. not just a greater appreciation of being alive, but a more bloody-minded focus on what I want/need from life (for myself and for A.), and how I'm going to get it. and I am going to get it. believe me.
still not dead. not going to die. not yet.
well, it was really a five and a half year scan, but at the end of June I'm up to five years of hormone treatment. at which point there is no need to keep taking the pills/shots any more; there is no guarantee of course but there is no added benefit in going on with the drugs.
so. a CT scan, complete with that weird hot/flushed feeling in all my soft tissues. a bone scan, complete with 20 minutes of lying very still while my body slides slowly up and down under a camera that can see into my very bones. oh, and a blood test the previous day, just for added fun.
I did pretty well over the weekend, but by yesterday morning, with my appointment with the oncologist in the afternoon, I was a bit anxious. I went to the pool and swam until the last possible moment, all the time feeling a little detached from my body. the CT scan is the answer, really; it shows up an tumors that might be quietly forming in the depths. five years is not "cured" - I think that's 10 - but it's something I had no great reason to expect to live, let alone be cancer-free, when I was first diagnosed.
so the lovely Dr M. walks into the room and the first thing he says, bless him, knowing I'm freaking out, is "the test results look good." The rest of the appointment was basically us congratulating each other on being so good at our jobs/sticking with the treatment respectively. of course he had a poke about, just in case, but still failed to find anything of interest. a bit of arthritis and I'm a little anaemic. hah! chickenfeed!
all of which means I am not going to die. I am going to see my little boy grow up. I can banish that voice in the back of my head that worries about what he would do without me.
it also means I might actually have another baby. even the thought, the image of another little boy or girl seems like some kind of unreachable, heavenly fantasy. another child. they are pretty good things to have, really.
it's also crossed my mind that I could just not, and get on with doing as much as I can with the life I appear to be going to have; travel, work etc. but I suspect I'll go for the baby option. yet to discuss with husband. husband may not get much of a say in it.
....and in the last few days I've noticed myself getting through the fear with a kind of grim get-on-with-it-ness. and I am starting to see how this has changed me. not just a greater appreciation of being alive, but a more bloody-minded focus on what I want/need from life (for myself and for A.), and how I'm going to get it. and I am going to get it. believe me.
still not dead. not going to die. not yet.
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