It's my life, don't you forget... Talk Talk

The cyst was cancer, the plan was to get a PET/CT* scan and look at my whole body to see if there is anymore lingering cancer in lymph nodes or elsewhere. Since I was already admitted to the hospital they decided I should do the procedure prior to my discharge. Makes sense to me. I had some explanation of the procedure but it still seemed like a mystery until I was actually being photographed. The one question I wanted to know was the length of the procedure. The fellow said, "up to and hour" the R4 said, "45 minutes or so", but the answers were somewhat vague. So I really did not know how long this will take. 

Residents are interesting, I understand that I am receiving care at a teaching institution and I am all for it, but, I can tell they are learning and some are still developing their bedside manner. I have no doubt they are dedicated and smart to make it to UW as an R4 or fellow. As a patient I want my doctor to be real with me. Sometimes there is a lingering pretension in the room, when the residents make their rounds. Maybe it is the competition, or the lame news they have to share in oncology all the time, or just a bad day. However there is a fine line for communicating with people scared for their life. You can't be too up beat and you can't be to solum, it is best just to tell it like it is and cut the bullshit. I understand some Docs are trying to be compassionate and caring with concerning looks, which to me reads as "oh this poor patient only x number of months to live". Then there are other Residents who want to make some small talk to "connect" with me, break the ice if you will. For example, "so it looks like your baby is turning 1 this week, how exciting do you have any plans."  I know it is thoughtful of the resident to show interest in my life but during a presurgical appointment all I can think about is

 1. they're gonna stick their hands up my crotch and butt in a few minutes.

2. I might have cancer, AGAIN

3. because of this surgery I have to postpone my baby's 1st birthday which totally sucks and I do not want to be reminded of one more way that cancer has created a loss in my life. 

So my advice for those who work with me is talk about the hear and now and cut the bullshit. That being said, I am thankful that doctors go into the gynecology/oncology field. Please keep researching for a cure. 

Back to the scan, so I couldn't eat for 12 hours or so because they needed to inject a dextrose(sugar) dye into my veins and flush it through my bladder. Lucky me. So this required replacing my current catheter with a 3 way catheter so they can flush dextrose through my bladder. Apparently, cancer is attracted to sugar and that is how they find the hot spots. Note to self: maybe I should eat less swedish fish, good and plenties and cookies, cut back on the sugar - easier to say then do. At noon a transporter pics me up in the wheel chair to wheel me and my bags (bladder/IV) to radiology. It is across the hospital so I get to watch people in the elevator look at me compassionately, wonder in their minds what is wrong with me. I haven't had a shower or brushed my hair so I am sure I look pitiful. The transporter explained to me that she once wore a pedometer and logged 8 miles in one day transferring patients here and there, she was fast. 

We finally arrive to a windowless clinical hallway with exam rooms and rooms with big machines waiting for their human bait. I meet the tech, she wheels me into a small closet size room with a stretcher. She says " this is going to take about 2 hours". Okay I've got time and am rolling with the punches, my husband who is waiting is clueless about the length of this procedure, I hope he doesn't worry. The Tech said "It takes 45 minutes for the dextrose dye to circulate through your body and then the scan lasts 45 minutes." I am looking around the small clinical room, lying on the stretcher, there are no magazines, tv, I brought nothing to distract myself. The tech prepares the injection. I comment, " that is and interesting block/syringe contraption," she responds, "it protects us because the injection is radioactive." I hear the mama warning bell in my head.  I ask, "are there any restrictions in holding my son or sleeping with him? In a nonchalant way she responds, "You can give him a quick hug or a kiss but best not to sleep in the same room with him or hold him very long". Another note to myself, glad I asked, it would be nice if they had a handout or some literature to describe these restrictions, I did ask for time limits which I never received, just that the drug has 20 1/2 lives and will be out in 20 hours. Again, this process is more rolling with the punches, learn as you go. Although there are a lot of medical "protocols" the communication flow and patient education needs some work. To use the buzz word in public health, the hospital departments are like mini silos and cultures. To each there own.

So I am lying on my stretcher receiving radioactive dye, curious if I will glow in the dark (ha ha, the joke I seem to hear a lot these days). The tech says, I'll leave you alone to rest. Gee thanks, here I am left alone with my thoughts in a clinical room without media distractions. Luckily, I was in a place of strength and took the time to apologize to my body and feel compassion for the trauma it has gone through and faces. I let myself cry a bit about the overwhelming amount of loss in my life. I visualized healing light from my top to toes and occasionally prayed and hoped that this scan will be cancer free, or bear good news for a change. I had no choice but to face my feelings, which is important, but not easy. There are always more feeling to be had.

Finally my body was fully radioactive and I was placed on the machine for 45 minutes with my arms over my head. This is an awful long time to have your hands over your head. First I closed my eyes and rested then my arms started hurting around 35 minutes. All I could do was think about finishing, lets get it done. 

My first PET/CT scan was complete. One more medical experience to add to my life. Another transporter took me back to my room. Back from a three hour tour. Did you hear that Residents, Fellows and medical folks. Three hours. My husband was pacing the halls wondering why it took so long. He asked the front desk at one point about how long it might be and someone said, "maybe they found something so it is taking longer. " WRONG answer lady, you do not say that to the spouse of a cancer patient because you do not know. I told my nurse of the comment my husband received and she apologized. Now we just have to do what we do best wait for the results tomorrow. 

*Positron Emission Tomography (PET) and Computerized Tomography (CT) are imaging tools that allow physicians to pinpoint the location of cancer within the body before making treatment recommendations.