Faithfully Fighting

What a day yesterday was!  I could not have written it into a book in a more dramatically interesting way than it happened.  It started out normal enough, I’m finally feeling pretty pain free and I’ve been able to go back to work, so I headed to work for ½ a day before my CT scan.  At lunch time I went home, ate, and at 1:45 drank that yucky barium drink they give you.  At 2:00 Mom and I headed to the hospital for the test.

Now I had decided that I was going to insist they access my power-port for the CT scan.  Last time I went for a scan they didn’t and the weird sensation that you get when the dye goes in was much worse than usual.  Apparently my port is a little tricky (thanks surgeon) and it gives some nurses trouble.  So after the nurse tried 2 times I suggested I run down to Oncology and get one of the treatment nurses to access the port (they never have problems because they do them all the time).  I was surprised when CT agreed.  So I trotted down the hall, down the stairs, and through the door to oncology.  I told the receptionist what I’d like to do and she called back and the nurses said sure (they are so nice).  When I got back there, they didn’t have the right needles (I had no idea they were different), so they had to call CT to “tube” a needle down.  Bang!  Kay hit the port on the first try.  So then I hustle back up to CT.  Close your eyes and picture it: me wearing a hospital gown and an arm band scurrying through the hallways of the hospital and medical building I’m trying not to draw attention to myself, but hurrying while holding the flaps of my gown together.  I cannot believe someone didn’t stop me thinking I was trying to escape from the place.  I get back, have my CT and they send me on my way.  Mom and I drive home feeling relieved that is over.

I was home about 20 minutes when the phone rang.  “Hello, Lynn this is William”, my oncologist.  I’m cautious, not panicked, but I can only remember him calling me with good news once, ever, and that was two years ago.  He’s called me with bad news more than once.  Plus it hasn’t even been an hour since the scan, doesn’t someone have to read those things.  Well apparently someone had and phoned him, immediately.  The first thing he said was “are you in pain?”.  Which I actually took as a good sign, but I’m not sure why.  Then he said “They’ve seen something on the scan in your pelvis, not cancer but some kind of infection.”  I almost argued with him.  I don’t hurt now, that was last week, I’ve been working, everything’s better.  He said I had to come back to the hospital for ANOTHER CT scan of the pelvis, so they can get a better look.  He was calling me in some antibiotics and he wanted to know the name of my GYN so he could call her today.  I’m thinking this doesn’t sound good at all.  Shouldn’t I be writhing on the floor or something?  Then he askes me if I’m in pain, again.  Funny, last week I couldn’t get anyone to call me back at 1:00 a.m. when I was in pain and now I can’t convince him I don’t hurt.  He said he’d have the office call me back with the CT appointment.  I think I called him “a little stinker”.

10 minutes later the phone rings again.  It’s the nurse from Oncology to tell me they’ve called in my antibiotics, that the doctor talked to my GYN and I need to call first thing tomorrow for an appointment to see her, and I need to come back to the hospital right now for another scan.  What!  Right now!  Then I hear William’s voice in the background telling the nurse what to say.  I don’t know if he heard me, or knew I was going to argue, but he’s standing right beside her telling her stuff to say to me.  The big chicken!   He tells her to relay that the liver spots have not changed (which he says is really good news this close to the last scan).  I asked her to ask him if I had anything in my brain.  She relayed the question verbatim and I could hear him chuckling.  Now usually we have that kind of relationship, but I was already pretty grumpy at him.  I’m not stupid and I know he was feeding me the good news to cushion the bad news a little.  I told her I could hear him giggling and I knew what he was thinking . . . empty brain, she told him I could hear him laughing and then he said, loudly, tell her there’s nothing in there!  I am not a violent person, but it’s a really good thing he wasn’t standing in front of me.

Mom and Dad drove me back to the hospital.  Once again took two sticks for the nurse from IV therapy to hit the port (that’s 5 sticks total for the day, for those of you counting).  They took blood to make sure my kidneys would be ok if they gave me more dye.  Then they put me back in the machine.  Apparently they used a different kind of dye that wasn’t as hard on the system.  Unfortunately I broke out in hives from it.  I had to lay there for another hour to recouperate with IV fluids running through me.  Poor Mom came in and sat with me as we waited for the welts on my face, stomach and arms to disappear. 

This morning the GYN’s office called me at 8:05.  They asked me if I needed pain medicine and told me to come in at 10:30.  I didn’t even get a chance to call them.  I feel very blessed that the Lord has spared me from the pain I’m supposed to be in! Pete and I went to the appointment and I finally got the story.  My GYN diagnosis is that the infection I got after the chemo from the diverticulitus has leaked into fluid in the fallopian tube.  She thinks I’m on the tail end of it right now, but I need to keep taking the antibiotics, then get more blood work and an ultrasound to make sure the infection is gone.  I don’t get any more chemo until the infection is cleared up (shucks).  BUT the kicker is, if the infection becomes chronic (like the other one I kept getting) after every chemo I’ll have to have a big surgery.  She said that I’d have to go to UVA for the surgery because they have the specialists there to deal with the complications of scar tissue that will develop.  At this point of my appointment I had gone on overload of information and I can’t really tell you anything else she said.  You know when your brain just starts to shut down because it refuses to process the negative information being thrown its way.

I need a nap, a good book, and some more prayer.  Sorry gang, the blessings still way out way the pain, but I’m wiped out.

God Bless

Lynn

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