While there is some improvement seen, there is still cancerous activity evidenced on the scan. Liver lesion is still there, as is the tumor at the original site.
I can't adquately describe the feeling of hearing the news. Certainly not what I wanted to hear. More chemo in the very near future means that cancer will remain in the front seat, as opposed to the rear of the bus where I had hoped to seat it, at least temporarily.
In comparison to other metastatic cancer patients, I'm fairly fresh into this. I imagine multiple iterations of this scene. Does the news get any easier over time?
I wanted to hear 'go enjoy your summer', not '3 to 6 more rounds'.
Late spring/early summer weather is here, and it is beautiful. I try to enjoy it without thinking about if this is the last time I'll see this welcome change of seasons. I resist the urge to find a tall cliff from which I can scream from the top of. I hold it together and keep on plugging along.
Hi -- I just wanted to let you know I just found your blog -- I don't have a lot of energy (6 weeks out of radiation & chemo for anal cancer) but I hope to come back to check in from time to time -- hang in there! so much of what you write echoes my own thoughts and feelings.... thank you thank you, for sharing ---
ReplyDeleteHi Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteSo glad you found your way here. Sometimes just being able to relate to something someone else writes makes you feel like you're not entirely alone. I started this blog to help other people find their way through some of the challenges of having cancer...specifically the kind people don't want to talk about over dinner.
I hope that you start feeling stronger every day and that you can come back often and find info that informs or entertains.
Thanks so much for your comment....it inspires me to keep blogging, albeit irregularly.
~D.
thanks for writing back, Dee -- my name is Susan -- I've been pretty deep in depression the last couple of days, due this morning to a particularly messy poop accident. Radiation doc said the other day that the exercises to strengthen my sphincter muscles may or may not solve my fecal incontinence issue... very distressing, and, as you say, not the kind of problem people want to talk about over dinner... I'm going to look for any new posts from you now. My poor addled "chemo brain" just finally reminded me to check my browser "favorites" which led me here... THANK YOU!!!
DeleteSusan J. (anonymous) (former computer geek, now computer klutz)
Susan,
DeleteSorry for the delay in responding. For some reason, I'm practicing avoidance of my blog lately. I'm really tired of cancer, aren't you?
Sounds like your challenges are no fun whatsoever. Keep your head up and as stupid as it sounds, remember whatever you're going through, it's better than not being here at all. I can tell by your comments that you're a strong person. Time will hopefully heal your body and bring you peace of mind. Thanks for reading; hope you're doing better by now.
~D.
Hello again -- judging by your June 2 post, I'm guessing you're in the midst of chemo... yikes! please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers... as for "Does the news get any easier over time" it's my observation from the massive amount of cancer reading I've done, that many of us do get to some sort of "taking it one day at a time" spiritual state, where we just accept whatever news or new development comes along and enjoy what moments we can. I myself am VERY far from that advanced state: I pretty much collapse in a tearful puddle at any setback.
ReplyDeleteYou wrote:
"I try to enjoy it without thinking about if this is the last time I'll see this welcome change of seasons." I tend to go ahead & let myself think it might be the last, as a way of motivating myself to really enjoy it. I also spend a lot of time reflecting on happy or important memories, "the unfaded snapshots in my album of memory" as I just read on someone else's blog.
"I resist the urge to find a tall cliff from which I can scream from the top of." If I had a tall cliff with some privacy, I'd be SCREAMING away. Meanwhile I just make do with crying in the kitchen. It's not always cathartic, but often it is...
Grace and peace and joy to you, m'dear! and thanks again for your blog, and for replying to my post. As you say, it's a BIG help not to feel so alone.
Susan J--meet Green Monkey!
DeleteI'm just joining you. here on your blog and also on a rectal cancer journey that is NOT fun.... I too try to enjoy the day without focusing on tomorrow... but it's hard. really hard. (am I allowed to swear here?)
ReplyDeleteHell yes, Green Monkey, hell yes.
ReplyDelete