A moldy, crappy, stale-ass roll.
I'd like to get off of it now.
Please.
I received my latest scan results on Friday. I read over the results and immediately took a nap. This is my mind and body's way of shutting it
off.
Getting results are hard.
Telling my family is even harder.
This blog gives me the platform to put it all out there at once and not have to rehash the "so my scans came back..." a million times. Plus, as intimate as I can be in writing, there is some distance. You can't hear the deep breaths I have to take before calling my mom or the crack in my voice when I'm talking to my Dad. You're not there when Billy comes and puts his hand on me, allowing me to let it out and go through the "I don't want to die" routine. Sorry you don't get that, but you can't have that.
That is mine.
That is ours.
Things are not looking so hot.
I still have the spot on my peritoneum but now it's been joined by smaller nodules. It's spreading.
I'm sad. I'm scared. I'm angry.
But I'm mostly sad.
On top of the peritoneal seeding, as it is termed, I have 2 substantial masses in my abdomen. One is large measuring almost 6x6 cm. When I first read the scan and saw these masses I was completely floored. I thought they had just appeared out of nowhere, but reviewing prior scans I noticed they had been there for quite some time. However, they are growing rapidly. The one thing I was able to piece together is that despite their size, they have never lit up on previous scans, meaning they haven't shown cancerous activity. I am convinced that these are the source of my abdominal pain and I'm not sure where that leaves me. The pain is continually getting worse.
Today I went to UPenn to discuss the results with my doctor. I met with another doctor first. He asked me if I saw my scans. I replied with, "Yes, and I'm not happy with them." He responded with, " We are not happy with them either." My heart sank and even though he had a lot more to add, I just kept hearing that one line over and over again in my head.
Next up was my doctor. I have to say after talking with him I felt a little better, but not by much.
So what now?
Well, my chemo regimen is out. It's obviously not cutting the mustard. What the hell does cutting the mustard mean? I'm digressing. Anyway, new chemo meds will be introduced in a week or two. He called them the second line of defense.
I don't want seconds.
I want firsts.
There was also talk about going in and possibly debulking the cancerous areas or at least getting rid of the large growth to ease my pain. They need to discuss this with a surgeon before making any decisions.
Live life like it's your last day and then bite me, because nobody's buying that crap.
I feel a bit empty.
I feel like my life is a never ending shit show.
I feel like it's time to get off this roll, this storm cloud, or continual chain of bad luck. No words of wisdom or joy this time around, kids. Things suck right now and I'm allowing myself to have this moment of sadness. I can't buy into the inspirational quotes or "pick myself up from my boot straps" bullshit. Embracing the pain and the fear today. And I'm going to just focus on the title of this blog because that's all I can do:
Fingers crossed.