For three years since my last Cancer treatment I've undergone regular blood tests and CT scans. There were regular visits to the Oncologist. My IV Port was removed, on the assumption it would no longer be needed. In 2011 I had a follow-up Colonoscopy that showed no issues or concerns. I've vigilantly kept watch on my health for anything out of the ordinary. So it was a complete surprise to find out that a biopsy from my most recent Colonoscopy this past February showed Cancer.
There's a certain sense of urgency when your Oncologist calls you to discuss the results of your latest exam. My Colonoscopy had been on February 26th, and I was expecting to discuss the results with the Gastroenterologist on March 20th. The preemptive call on March 10th from my Oncologist was a complete surprise. An appointment was arranged to meet in two days. A 'polyp-like' growth at the site of my previous tumour had biopsied as cancerous. I did not sleep well the next two nights as that sense of urgency dominated my thoughts.
On the appointment day I enter the Cancer Center and once more acquaint myself with the login process to fill out the ESAS form. This is the self-evaluation form on how you feel: Sick? Pain? Tired? Anxiety? Usually all my numbers are zero, this time I scored a modest value for Anxiety. I'll admit to being nervous.
My name is called and I meet a nurse at the entrance to the exam area. Preliminaries: my weight is always checked whenever I visit my cancer doctor. Perhaps the scales could have reflected a more svelte reality than what was displayed, but at least it didn't show any shocking weight loss. What a relief *that* was. Three months ago I had my CEA blood work at this very facility, with no hint of any problems. Never once have any of my blood tests been other than normal. After my weight was recorded, I was brought to the exam room where I waited for my Oncologist to arrive.
My Oncologist steps in the room and our usual pleasantries are exchanged. She proceeds to review my Colonoscopy results, and for the second time in four years, a doctor is telling me that I have Colon Cancer. To my credit I didn't faint.
The 'not-quite-a-polyp' biopsy done at the time of my Colonoscopy showed cancer cells. I would need to get more blood tests and a CT scan. A consultation with a surgeon would be arranged. The treatment for cancer in the colon is surgery. That's what I would need done. The question remains as to the extent - had it spread like before, to my liver or other parts? A CT would establish if there were other tumours lurking within. Curiously, although I had very little new information, I felt marginally relived. My Oncologist did not seem overly concerned, and her thorough medical examination (Something I like to call being Poked & Prodded) seemed to satisfy her that none of my major organs was in imminent danger of exploding. I would leave the Cancer Centre feeling mildly optimistic, encouraged by that fact that a testing process had done exactly what it was supposed to do: identify the onset of a disease, and allow for a treatment plan.
There would be a spate of activities over the next several weeks as I underwent a CT exam and met my new surgeon. My confidence would ebb and flow depending on my mood -optimism: I've done this before, and pessimism -have I exhausted my resources? I try not to think about what this means, this new-found outpost in my gut. Does it herald a full invasion or is it merely a spiteful ghost from my previous adventures?
One thing I do know is that my resolve will be tested. Once more I will have to make life-altering decisions based upon emotion as much as logic. I set the bar pretty high my last go-round dealing with Cancer. I just hope I can do the same once again.
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