has it spread?

posted Friday, 24 June 2005

The next week is a total blur... I split my time between:
1. Meeting with those I care about to tell them the news
2. Trekking back and forth for a zillion tests to make sure that the cancer hasn't spread
3. Trying to organize things at work so that they are not a disaster when I leave
4. Final preparation to close on my house (which is the day after my surgery)
Items 3 & 4 are relatively non-interesting, but helped to contribute to one of the most insane weeks of my life... I'll elaborate a bit on items 1 & 2....

1) how do you tell your friends that you have cancer?
yikes... just the word sounds awful. i don't feel sick. i don't look sick. yet inside me, this cancer is prepping for battle. (little does it know, i too am prepping for battle).
• i start with my closer, local friends - those who knew about the lump to begin with. these conversations were quick and easy (relatively speaking).
• next, my close, local friends who were not yet in the loop.... these conversations were not so easy. i tried to do it face-to-face. i'd make a little small talk and then just drop the news like a bomb. actually, i kind of have a little script that i'd rehearsed, so it got easier the more often i practiced it.
• next, my close, distant friends... this was even tougher... "hey, haven't talked in a while... by the way, i have cancer". actually, i pretty much used the same script as above, but phone conversations are always tougher, especially this one.
• next, a smattering of other friends, co-workers, etc... those who aren't as close, but i'd still prefer that they hear it from me (as opposed to through the grapevine)
It's interesting to look at the way people react to the news. There are pretty much three reactions:
• Denial - "is there any way they misdiagnosed you?"
• Anger - "this is not fair!"
• Fear/Sadness/Confusion - "what does this mean? will you be ok? tears"
At first, I tried to mandate the reaction... "don't cry..." but i quickly realized that while i had had 1 wole week to acclimate myself to the situation, this was the first that my friends/ family were hearing... and they were entitled to their feelings of fear/anger/sadness. i guess i just didn't want to see the people that i cared about so upset.
I managed to stay relatively calm through all of these interactions. No tears (except for two conversations, which is pretty darn good). i guess it's hard not to cry when someone says "don't you put on a brave face here with me and then go home and cry alone at night in your bed" (ok - somebody knows me pretty well)...
In general, my story was matter-of fact... i have not been handed a life sentance, rather a 1-year term at a rather nasty institution. i wasn't going to guess how i would feel or what would happen... just take it as it came.
2) has it spread?
ok, so this part wasn't very fun either. i was scheduled for a mass of tests to check all the other organs in my body: lungs, liver, bones, blood, kidneys, etc. lucky for me, i am not afraid of needles, as most of these tests involved injection/infusion of some type of radio-active dye. unlucky for me, i get very grumpy when i don't eat... and most of these tests also involve a 4-6 hour fast prior to the test.
by friday, all my tests were done, but as i sat in the car on the way up to boston, nurse mary called - the pet scan was ok, but the radiologist wanted another picture. i needed to get a ct scan of my chest... no- not the barium again (the ct scan required me to drink 2 pints of barium before the test... imagine a chalky drink, the consistency of a mix of 1 part elmers glue: 1 part water. they give it an orange flavor, but that doesn't help much... i was slightly concerned - why do they need another test, but tried to put it out of my mind for the weekend. as monday rolled around, i was pleasantly surprised (no barium to drink this time) - i got a call from dr d that very night - all clear and ready for surgery the next day.
all told, i had (pretty much in this order):
• blood work (piece of cake)
• chest x-ray (piece of cake)
• ct scan of abdomen/pelvis (clear liquids for 4 hours; drink a 2 pints of barium before hand; injection during the scan for "contrast"; 10 minute scan)
• bone scan (radioactive injection 2hrs before the scan; 30 minute scan)
• pet scan (water only for 6 hours prior; 45 minute infusion of radioactive glucose; 45 minute scan)
• ct scan of chest (clear liquids for 4 hours; injection during the scan; 10 minute scan)
For those of you (like me) who fall a little on the dorky end of the spectrum, here's some info on each of the diagnostic tests they do http://www.breastcancer.org/testing_intro.html