CT scan at the liver surgeon appt showed additional spots and "areas of concern" on the liver.
He consults with my oncologist and comes in to say surgery is not the best option. Rather they'd prefer to proceed directly to "systemic" chemotherapy, so it can address ALL areas of cancer, even the ones we may not know about yet.
Eerily quiet in the room. This guy that I had high hopes for saving me has summarily dismissed me after talking to me and my husband for all of 4 minutes. Done, gone.
Huge disappointment and I have trouble holding it together long enough to get out of there.
2 days later the oncologists office finally calls to say what chemo regime they're recommending. Also having a port put in; chemo starting on Monday. Waited until Friday for scheduling to call me back only to say that my insurance company hadn't pre-approved it yet, so it would need to be pushed to either Wed or the following Monday. I feel like we're losing valuable time. It's almost two months now since cellular activity was first seen on the PET scan. Frustrating doesn't begin to describe it. Wondering if I should get a second opinion, but I don't have the energy.
Friday after the port surgery, I get around to telling most of my family and friends about the situation.
OK, so I guess I did learn something last time around :) The communication plan is in full swing.
It feels good to not have to hide it anymore. Not that I'm so noble about it; just had to get it over with before my hair starts falling out...
Saturday after the port surgery, my chest and neck are so sore that I decide to take a couple of the pain pills my husband had leftover after surgery for bladder stones. Suffice to say that I was out for the entire day....came around about dinner time, really pissed at myself for wasting half my weekend. Enough of this wallowing around. I'm ready to move on with living.
Found your blog looking for someone who has experienced urethera cancer. I read all your posts. Thank you for sharing, it's very generous of you. In case there are days when you might wonder, your blog does makes a difference for someone out there seeking answers before going down the rabbt hole. You are honest, brave and inspiring. Best of luck on fighting this thing through. My warmest thoughts as some comfort for the harship ahead.
ReplyDeleteThanks Anonymous! I do appreciate your words of encouragement.
ReplyDelete~D.
Dee - I am so sorry that you are going through more cancer junk again. I sat here and just cried when I read that the cancer was back. I agree with Anonymous above - your blog is an inspiration and I just know that you have many people championing for you.
ReplyDeleteI feel your anger and disappointment over the doctor. The day I was diagnosed by my first urologist, my husband and I were mortified at the way he broke the news: 'Of course you have cancer - why do you think you are here?' Nice, huh? I nicknamed him Dr. Rude. He said he couldn't do the surgery - sent me to Cleveland Clinic. That doc could do the surgery but the hospital expected me to cough up $24,000 before the surgery. (The trappings of being uninsured). When I couldn't come up with the money - they cancelled my surgery.
Don't be too hard on yourself about sleeping - rest is good for the body....and even better for the mind :)
Hi Kristy,
ReplyDeleteI'm starting to think they are all Dr. Rudes! Granted oncology is no doubt a tough field, but I keep thinking any day now I'm bound to run into one that is sincerely concerned about keeping me alive
......is that too much to ask?
~D.