Strength and a Clear Scan

Good news first--my PET scan came back clear! Unless you've had cancer or taken care of someone with cancer, this may not mean as much to you, but it means the world to me and my family. I was able to get my scan on Wednesday morning, and then I drove over to Methodist Hospital to pick up the CD of the scan so that Dr. Peacock could look at it along with the report on Thursday morning.

I didn't sleep well the night before the scan, and knowing that I couldn't have anything to eat beforehand, I kept dreaming I was eating candy through the night, of all things! I'm not even a candy eater, and it made me very nervous in my dreams that I kept eating something I wasn't supposed to have. I didn't sleep well the night before my office visit, but I did dream that I got good news.

When I got to the cancer center yesterday, I noticed a Relay for Life sign on the wall with my name that some sweet ladies who work there had purchased. Very sweet. My brain was thinking, "I wonder if they put up the sign just to try to make me feel better?" Crazy, I know, but that's how my mind works.

While I was waiting for Dr. Peacock, his assistant took my vitals and then left. After a bit she came back in and told me the doctor wanted me to put on a gown. I said, "Well crap. That doesn't sound good. He just examined me last week." I reluctantly took off my shirt and bra and donned the gown, wondering what the doctor was looking for. When he came in the room, I know my heart was racing, and he began to explain the test results to me.

One of the things I have always appreciated about Dr. Peacock is that he never talks down to me. As the medical terms rolled off his tongue, my cloudy brain tried to decipher if he was saying "yes" or "no" to any additional cancer. While he talked, he looked at the scar on my breast and then again at the scars under my arm where my lymph nodes were removed, and he seemed satisfied. I finally said, "So there is no evidence of cancer?" And he said no, that the PET scan showed thickening of the scar line, and he was 100% sure it was as a result of my radiation treatments. Whew! Was that all? I'll take a thickened scar any day!

He didn't know exactly why my tumor markers were elevated, but it could be due to inflammation of some kind. Losing weight and eating bright veggies and more whole grains ought to help with that, and you should see the world of color I just bought at the grocery store!

One of the things I didn't want to Dr. Peacock to see (as he has lectured me about skin protection while out in the sun) was a strip of sunburn on my arm where I missed with the sunscreen last weekend. I didn't figure he'd examine me again, so when he had me put on the gown, he saw the skin peeling on my arm and of course he asked me about it. Busted. But I promised him I tried to cover up and that most of me got slathered with 100 SPF!

It's been a whirlwind week of fear, anxiety, relief and now elation. I've been given another shot in the arm of that feeling where you don't want to take things for granted ever again.

And tonight, Traci took Barry and me to dinner to one of our favorite places, The Bourbon Street Grill. Our regular waitress is Mary, a black girl who went to school with Traci and who has three kiddos. We enjoy having her wait on us, and we ask for her whenever we eat there. She knows about my cancer journey, and we've gone to the restaurant to celebrate on several occations. Mary asked me how I was doing, and I told her about my good news this past week. She hugged my neck and said, "You might think this is weird, but I think about you sometimes, and I wonder how you're doing." She said she feels as if she knows us better than most of her other customers. This was about the sweetest thing she could have said to me. I thanked her for thinking about me, and I asked her that whenever I come to mind like that for her to please just say a little prayer for me. She said she would.

The cirlce of life is tough, and it doesn't always follow along with our plans. I didn't expect cancer to interrupt my life at age 49 and to follow on my heels as it's done. I'm sure I'll be guarding against more cancer for the rest of my life, however long that might be. My grandmother, my sweet Nanny, is in the hospital right now in Little Rock, and she's in extremely critical condition following surgery on Wednesday. She's lived a long, sometimes hard, but a very good life, and she will be 86 next month. I was her first grandchild, and she was just 34 when I was born. I have many fond memories of her, and if there is anyone in the world who I am most like, it's her. She was always a strong woman.

I'm strong, too, and I am one fortunate gal, and I know it.