- Appointment with Dr. MM at Barnes West County
Today I had an appointment with Dr. MM to go over the specific details and preparation for surgery. This time we met at his west county office, only minutes from home, and he is the only person in the room with me and Hector. No fellows nor students nor nurses, just Dr. MM.
I've prepared (and printed out!) my list of questions and we go through them all. There's not a lot of new news but instead it's confirmation of many details. Based on all available information so far, the surgery is expected to take 3 hours and my hospital stay is expected to be around 5 days. But there are a lot of what-ifs that could change that timeline, starting with CT/MRI scans next week that could determine if Dr. C will be doing anything on my liver during the surgery.
Hector, Laura, Sharon, and I all met at Siteman in the afternoon for what we had been warned might be a long wait. It's a busy time of the year with the holidays and when the nurse called to confirm my appointment a few days ago, she told me that I "might want to bring a book along to entertain myself." I explained to her that I was bringing my husband and two sisters and we'd likely keep ourselves entertained. (And I was right! I'm not sure that exam room has ever heard that much laughter.)
About an hour passed before we were called back to a room but soon after that Dr. T came in. Intelligent and soft-spoken, Dr. T went over the details of my history with us and talked about some additional testing that he would suggest. He agreed that right now would be a good time for surgery as I have tolerated treatment well and we have kicked the cancer back a bit (my words, not his exactly, I do love a good sports analogy). We discuss that I'll meet up with him about 2 weeks after surgery to see how we will proceed with treatment.
"You look like a hug waiting to happen."
Being home for the past three days with the flu + starting to feel a little better + a How I Met Your Mother marathon on Netflix = being wide awake at 2 a.m. And sheep don't really do it for me.
I just started a new book yesterday afternoon called Cancer Olympics. One of things that has struck me the most so far is that the author created a one-page typed summary about her case, important dates and details, that she basically handed to every new doctor that she came across. I suppose it cuts out repeating the story 100 times. And it puts the dates and details in writing, which, in the case of the author might have helped her case from the very beginning, as there was a severe lack of communication between doctors. For me, the topic of communication of dates and details becomes immediately important as I seek out a second opinion. Creating this summary or timeline seems like a lot of work but really, it's what I've been living for the past 6 months, it's my life, it's my story, it can't be that hard to get all of that on to one page, right?
- Appointment with Dr. R for bone scan results and follow-up on flu symptoms
The results of the bone scan are good! There is no sign that the cancer has spread to my bones. That doesn't help to explain the hip pain, however, it has improved since Tuesday (to be noted, I stopped the Xeloda on Tuesday). Dr. R doesn't think the hip pain is related to the Xeloda though, as it might cause all over pain but not pain specific to a particular joint. If the hip pain comes back strong, she suggests an MRI to look for muscle or tendon problems. Other good news is that my fever, chills, and body aches are improving. I have a pretty painful sore throat and cough but it seems that this flu could be on it's way out. She suggests that I continue to hold off on the Xeloda until after surgery. Today is the conclusion of a long week of appointments and phone calls.
So I went to the nuclear medicine department at the hospital first thing this morning for the start of the bone scan process. I'm injected with a tracer and I'll have to come back to the hospital 3 hours later for the scan. Thank goodness it's such a nice day outside and I'll have time to run errands and... oh wait, it's snowing and cold and miserable. (Thank you St. Louis.) The actual scan itself takes 25 minutes once it starts. Similar but different than a CT or MRI machine, the closeness of the machine to my face is a little scary but the openness on the sides helps to keep me from freaking out.
Both times when I entered the hospital, I took one of the masks that they offer next to the hand sanitizing gel upon entering the hospital. Next to the masks, the instructions say, "if you haven't gotten your flu shot, please take a mask to help prevent the spread of the flu." What about when your doctor thinks that you actually HAVE the flu? Waiting down in the nuclear medicine department, I feel like every person that walks by is giving me a strange look. I'm thinking, "hello people, I'm doing my part to prevent the spread of the flu, embrace the mask!" I wonder if the doctors and nurses all think the masks aren't really helpful or if they think I'm one of the loonies who thinks that she always needs one. Anyway, I decide to take it off to inspect it, maybe it is on backwards or something. And oopsie, blood from my nose has been dripping down on to the mask and it really is quite freaky looking. For me, the sight of a bit of blood on the mask isn't scary, because having a dry and constantly a little bit bloody nose has been one of the side effects of chemo. But to these other folks that just walked past me, I get it now, you win, the strange looks might have been warranted. Get off my case though, it's a hospital. If my life was all rainbows and butterflies (or cartwheels and cupcakes), I would not be sitting in the waiting room of a nuclear medicine department at a hospital. Okie dokie?
As usual, I have good company today.
- Appointment with Dr. R for flu symptoms
Dr. R thinks I could have the flu (she's been seeing a lot of it in her patients, um, maybe I caught it when I was there on Monday!) or possibly something like strep throat. She prescribes Tamiflu and a Z-pack to throw everything at it and see what sticks. (My words there, not hers exactly.) Also, she tells me that I shouldn't take any more Xeloda until at least I see her again in two days. We don't want these symptoms to escalate into something more serious and we certainly don't want to have to be admitted to the hospital. Being at home to recover sounds much more appealing to me.
- Evening phone call to Dr. R's exchange
Within an hour of being home from work, I am miserable. Again... whoa, where is this coming from? I have a high fever, chills, body aches, a sore throat, and a cough. It's after office hours, so I decide to place a call into Dr. R's after hours exchange. Dr. F returns my call and he speaks so quickly and abruptly that I feel like the fast-forward button is on. He suggests taking Advil for pain, not taking the evening's dose of Xeloda, and calling in the morning to see Dr. R. He asks me a few questions that make me pretty confident that he hasn't looked at my medical records. It doesn't exactly give me the warm fuzzies but at this point, I'm feeling too sick to really care.
