The big day is here. We have to be on the road by 7.30 to make sure we get through all the traffic and we have Toasty to take out before we go. Poor boy, he'll be shut in all day and the spoilt dog gets to be with at least one of us nearly all the time. But I digress.. I want to for todays tale is not one I exactly relish telling.
We reach the hospital in good time to get a Costa and I feel in good sprits considering I know what is coming. Once more I follow the woman into the scan room - sign the form to assure them I am not pregnant - ha would I be so lucky, I'm not by the by, but even if I was I'm pretty sure that all the drugs coming my way will do a lot more damage than a radioactive scan don't you? I wriggle out of my bra (metal underwire) pulling it through the sleeve of my top and lie on the table while I have a canula put into the crook of my elbow. It is hooked up to a line to flush my system with a horrible contrast drug. When it is injected you get this hot flush, disgusting metallic taste and feel like you need to pee. Glamourous.
Breathe in, and out, in, out. The table slides through and back. The injection goes through straight away - they know I need it now, they don't try without. Sigh... but there is no time wasting and we are out off the department quickly and go to find some proper breakfast. It is then that we decide to go into Cambridge, it will make the wait seem quicker and take our minds off the results.
I see some beautiful clothes in All Saints and am torn... is it worth spending the little money I have on things that in theory make me look pretty when thats soon to be a bit of a lost cause?? Besides I decided long ago that if I am or anyone is to be judged on their appearance alone then that's a very shallow judgement. The money is better invested in creating memories and if it is to be pretty maybe an ipad??? I mean that way I can work on the go... even in hospital... is anyone convinced enough by this theory to buy me one yet :) ?
Next up is shoes.... a long term weakness... but check out these beauties!!
My husband literally twisted my arm saying if we got them that he would have to take me out to dinner to so I could wear them... what was I to do?? :)
After some more meandering, including checking out the ipad2 in the Apple Store, I have to be dragged away... we are going to be late for the next appointment and who'd want that? I mean couldn't I just take out the canula (still bandaged in the crook of arm... nothing new; last year I wondered around this same shopping centre with a pic line in my arm!) and go home... no?
No. My weight is up, my blood pressure is up and the doctor can see a slight change in my face shape so the tumours are definitely active. Can I go home now please?? No. The scan shows the tumour in my adrenal bed is now 9x8cm from the previous 6x6cm. My liver tumour has grown from 7x6 to 10x6! and there is a new 2cm lesion as well! That is not to mention small increases elsewhere. I walk into that small room on nothing but a small steroid dose and a anti-anxiety drug. I walk out with a appointment for day-series testing first thing next week and the oncologist the following week, a prescription for two new drugs (to start immediately) a bottle for a 24hr urine sample and a form for a list of bloods to be taken.
I walk out and the world has changed on me again. I am holding it together though. We follow the nurse through for the bloods and produce my canula'd arm... only the cap is stuck and it takes two nurses with a pair of pliers to get it off. My husband is beside me every step but at this point even he starts to visibly fret as the tension shows through. With cap off and the bloods taken we simply have to wait an hour for the pharmacy then we can't get out quick enough. I'm tired and I've had enough. I sleep most of the way home in the car, except when we stop for a cup of tea and I cry so much that the embarrassed staff don't charge us for it. At home I sleep through an entire film and then through the night: and so a new era begins.