New scans tomorrow
Tomorrow (Monday January 14) I am having new scans. Why? Well, I’ll have scans every few months for a couple of years at least. Once cancer metastasizes it crops up anywhere. One doctor characterized it as whacking cockroaches with a shoe. You keep whacking cockroaches and new ones keep cropping up. Unless you’re also doing a systemic therapy. Doctors talk about chemo for that. I talk about orthomolecular therapy, which is a fancy word for radically awesome nutrition and targeted micronutrients. Um, that’s eating really good food and a lot of it. 12 juices a day, etc.
So it’s been a few months since they last peered inside my body and it’s time for new scans. They’ll tell us how I’m doing, how the whole Gerson therapy thing is working (plus all the other things we are doing), and will help us choose how to proceed from here. Do I need to consider even more radical, invasive treatment? Or is what we’re doing working? Think of this as my cancer report card. All A’s?
1. Brain MRI
…to check the metastases (mets) that were bug-zapped by state of the art radiation in November. Good news there would be that the two wee spots on the left side of my brain are healing well. Even better news would be NO NEW METS. Hold that thought for me, would you?
2. Chest/abdomen CT scan
…to check the status of the baked-potatoey lumpish thing in my lower right abdominal quadrant. In October it had grown 15-20% from the time it was first spotted in August. Good news now would be that it’s grown only about 10-15% from that. Or less. Or gone entirely (I don’t think that’s the case based on the pains I feel there, but a Cancer Goddess can dream). Other good news would be that nothing else has cropped up in the meantime, that the little weird pains I feel here and there are only little weird pains and not evidence that Miss Melanoma is on the march.
A word here about melanoma. All cancer is potentially Bad Stuff, but some cancers seem to kill people more easily or more quickly than others. Pancreatic cancer? Damn. Death sentence for most people. Prostate cancer on the other hand is easily curable. Breast cancer gets beaten a lot. Melanoma? That’s one of the bad ones. And Stage 4 melanoma…my diagnosis is the reason medical people look at me the way they do, like they are counting in their heads the number of months or weeks I have left.
This might be a good time to say again that 5 months ago a doctor told me I had 9 months. Not that I believe her.
Cross your fingers for me, would you?
Anyway, tomorrow I get to hang out in hospitals with my beloved most of the day. And then we’ll get the news. I can see it now. We’ve been in that office before; there is a round conference table and a computer. My radiation oncologist — who totally rocks, gets right to things, and never beats around the bush — will show us exactly what is happening in my body. And, good or bad, my soulmate and I will cry.
I am so, so scared. I honestly don’t know how things will turn out tomorrow. Please hold me in your thoughts. I’ll share my report card.