I'm Radioactive

So today was the infamous, ever distressing and elusive PET/CT. When this morning came, I couldn't believe that I was actually having it today. Mind you, that on two other occasions I thought I was going to have this test, neither of which came to fruition, much to my stomach's dismay.  I guess the third time's the charm.

The difficult thing about the Positron Emission Tomography CT scan is that it involves a lot of preparation, both mental and physical! The night before you have to eat a high protein dinner, stay very warm, make sure you don't exercise within 24 hours of the test and the most important, and obviously the most difficult, consume no fluids, food or sugar after midnight.

I was well on my way to a successful test with a full belly of Smith and Wollensky filet mignon until I woke up this morning and all I wanted was water, juice, coffee - any fluid would have fit the bill. Needless to say, that wasn't in my cards. I knew that things were going to get a bit shaken up as I was walking out of the house, my stomach was grumbling and I was feeling a bit woosy from the pain medicine.

Our trip through radiology registration was very quick and within minutes I was being setup for an IV and told that I would have to drink two and a half bottles of a delicious, paste-like pina colada wannabe sugar agent and then would need to wait another 60+ minutes before the test would even begin. As I was processing all of this riveting information I began to cold sweat, proceeded by nausea, lightheadedness and then the compulsion to pass out in the room all while the technician was trying to finish my IV. This escapade then resulted a nurse having to come to check me out to make sure it wasn't anything "serious."

Finally, the technician walked in with the steel box full of radioactive IV liquid that he proceeded to push through my poor bruised veins. If all of this wasn't enough, I had another hour to wait before the 45 to 50 minute test even began.

After a nice nap, I had to put myself back on the defensive for the test knowing that I was going to spend the next hour completely still in a small tube. I'm not sure if any of you have had a CT scan, but an integral part of it is that they inject you with a dye contrast which happens to make you very warm, allllll over, and typically feels like you have peed your pants.

After CT scan number one, I think I could have done without that feeling ever again. How lucky was I that today, I got the dye contrast TWICE - this dye must have been stronger or something because the burning, warm sensation streamed through my entire body including my esophagus, belly and the waist down which obviously made me feel like I had peed. It was so dreadful.

Thankfully it is all over and I am apparently no longer radioactive - at least I don't think so...

Tomorrow is a big day, treatment one begins. Expect another post soon.

xoxox

T

Outdoor Escapades

While in the hospital, it was really to everyone's shock that I was actually a patient there.
Below is a photo of B and I sitting outside the med school during one of my escapades.

More outdoor stories to come!!

 

Surgery Sucks

Well I have officially survived day one post-surgery for biopsy number two. While the surgery, the two+ inch incision that is currently inhabiting my right side and the four incisions on my left wrist really hurt, I finally have a prognosis.

The doctors have finally confirmed that I have Hodgkin's lymphoma! It seems so strange to actually be hoping for a certain kind of cancer but the cure/survival rates are so high and it reacts really well to chemotherapy (or so I hear.)

Chemotherapy still seems so mythical to me. I know I continue to talk about it and I know that Tuesday is the day, but it hasn't really set in yet. Today M and I went over to Walgreens to pick up all of my medication that I am supposed to take with me to treatment. I was shocked when I saw that my dear friend Express Scripts saved me $350+ for THREE pills. I am really praying for a miracle that this prescription makes me feel like a million bucks.

I have a few days of relaxation and healing ahead of me before Monday's PET/CT and Tuesday's bone marrow biopsy and round one/cycle one.

Now, it is time to sleep.

xoxo

The Roller Coaster Ride

Now that I have finally been able to slow down the ride of the past 5 days, a recap might be helpful:

Last Thursday, August 20, in preparation for B's and my trip to Ireland, I went to visit my doctor for a prescription for what I thought might be walking pneumonia. It turns out that after extensive testing, two biopsies, two hospital stays, enduring pokes, prods and blood draws, I have a very large tumor in my chest that is presumed to be Hodgkin's lymphoma.

At this point in time, the doctors and pathologists are still not 100 percent positive as to the diagnosis, but are leaning toward it being malignant and being a form of lymphoma. I will be enduring some form of chemotherapy for treatment.

Life in a Box

Today as part of my preparation for surgery, it was required that I go for a PFT, or for any of you (like me) who have no idea what that is, a Pulmonary Function Test.

Now please be reminded that dear Tumor is depressing half of my right lung, so imagine my apprehension when the doctors instructed me to go in for this test. The first thing that pops into my mind is passing out from lack of breath and being left for dead in a creepy BASEMENT.

While obviously this vision is a bit dramatic, I was still a bit curious as to why the pulmonary division was in the basement of BMC. Well, the second we walked into the sterile, yet semi-dingy white room, it all became clear. Usually hospitals have the overwhelming smell of alcohol, hand sanitizer and the booming sound of silence - this department was certainly the exception.

BREATHE!!!!!!! IN, DEEP DEEP NOW DEEEEEEEP. NOW PUSH IT OUT.... PUSH PUSH PUSH push push push, HARDER!!

Where had we just entered? A birthing suite? I thought I was signed up for a PFT?! Oh no, I indeed was in the right place and there sitting aside a glass box was a breath cheerleader urging, pushing and coaching a patient through the vigorous testing that I was about to experience.

Now I know this is a bit drawn out all for a breathing test, but I had to give you the back story. As you can imagine I played my part in the test to achieve maximum results - complete with panting, pushing and actual exertion! The test was so hard, especially since I had not eaten in 15+ hours. At one point I literally thought my abs were going through a Baptiste yoga class.

Also, as a precursor for the photo below, I'm sure most of you know that I am semi-claustrophobic, so the combination of a peppy breath cheerleader a glass box, hunger pains and exhaustion I was ready to escape!

Welcome

All-

Welcome to my blog, "An Affair to Remember" - the sole purpose of this is to really keep all of you that I love and care about up to date on my progress through cancer and chemo.

xoxo

T