Once again, a call directly from a doctor. Sigh. My first thought is to hope for good news, but, thankfully, my doctors get quickly to the point and I don't have to hope for long. My CEA is moderately high at 5.7.
CEA levels are tested through a blood test, and I didn't pay much attention to this number in the past. Thank goodness for Google, I learned that normal for a non-smoker is < 2.5 ng/ml (don't know what ng stands for).
I'm getting re-tested next week and hoping this is all just a fire drill.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
CT scan is clean!
Yesterday was the inauguration of Barack Obama, our new president and a symbol of hope and renewal for our country. The changeover occurs at noon, whether or not he has been sworn in.
Yesterday, I had my six-month check-up appointment with my oncologist to get the results of my CT scan. In the waiting room, I met a man, his wife and brother. The man was in the first third of his treatment for colon cancer. I could see myself in him, last year at this time, and I could feel the difference in myself from then till now.
At five minutes to 12, I sat with my husband and oncologist in her office. We commented on how we were missing the inauguration, then she told me that my CT scan showed no sign of cancer. YAY!
We talked about other things -- the results of my blood tests, my continued low white count, the little and thankfully unchanged things they see in my lungs and thyroid, and kids. Always kids -- a neutral topic that somehow connects some of us.
And then, we left, with a new lease on life and a new president!
Yesterday, I had my six-month check-up appointment with my oncologist to get the results of my CT scan. In the waiting room, I met a man, his wife and brother. The man was in the first third of his treatment for colon cancer. I could see myself in him, last year at this time, and I could feel the difference in myself from then till now.
At five minutes to 12, I sat with my husband and oncologist in her office. We commented on how we were missing the inauguration, then she told me that my CT scan showed no sign of cancer. YAY!
We talked about other things -- the results of my blood tests, my continued low white count, the little and thankfully unchanged things they see in my lungs and thyroid, and kids. Always kids -- a neutral topic that somehow connects some of us.
And then, we left, with a new lease on life and a new president!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Ms Radiation
My periodontist requested a full mouth x-ray. Just a routine thing -- they like to have new ones done every three to five years.
So I called the dentist's office to schedule it. The conversation went something like this:
"You don't need to make an appointment. You can come in anytime tomorrow," they said.
"No problem. I have a CT scan in the morning, but I can come in the afternoon. Just drop by anytime?"
Why on earth I mentioned the CT scan, who knows. Why would they care? But good thing, because the response was,
"Oh, we don't like to give you too much radiation in one day."
Yikes. I hadn't thought about that. Well, I did, but chose to ignore it, filing under the necessity of modern living.
"Okay....hmmm..." I looked at my calendar. I now wanted some distance between those two appointments. "How about early February?"
"Sure. February 5th?"
"Oh....I have a mammogram that day." What am I, Ms Radiation these days? This is kind of scary.
I think a bit then say, "This isn't urgent. Let's just do it in March. I'll give you a call."
Wow. Between all these tests, I'll be radiated from my pelvis up. Would it be called a "healthy glow"?
So I called the dentist's office to schedule it. The conversation went something like this:
"You don't need to make an appointment. You can come in anytime tomorrow," they said.
"No problem. I have a CT scan in the morning, but I can come in the afternoon. Just drop by anytime?"
Why on earth I mentioned the CT scan, who knows. Why would they care? But good thing, because the response was,
"Oh, we don't like to give you too much radiation in one day."
Yikes. I hadn't thought about that. Well, I did, but chose to ignore it, filing under the necessity of modern living.
"Okay....hmmm..." I looked at my calendar. I now wanted some distance between those two appointments. "How about early February?"
"Sure. February 5th?"
"Oh....I have a mammogram that day." What am I, Ms Radiation these days? This is kind of scary.
I think a bit then say, "This isn't urgent. Let's just do it in March. I'll give you a call."
Wow. Between all these tests, I'll be radiated from my pelvis up. Would it be called a "healthy glow"?
Friday, January 9, 2009
Anticipating my six month CT check-up
So, my CT scan is coming up. This is my six-month check-up after finishing chemo. I have the scan next Tuesday. Then the following Tuesday, Inauguration Day, I meet with my oncologist to get the results. In fact, my appointment is at 11:30 am, just about the time of the inauguration! I hope this is the beginning of a wonderful new phase for all of us.
This weekend, I started to obsessively plan trips. I'm not someone with wanderlust, so this isn't normal behavior for me. After recording every day off, long weekend and school vacation between now and April, I became a woman obsessed with planning places to go and things to do. I specifically wanted places that were fun, interesting, different, and potentially non-refundable. On top of that, I found a blank spot in my schedule and committed to taking a course this semester. Because, if I plan these things, there is a future, right?
I'm realizing that planning these trips is my coping mechanism for dealing with the stress of any upcoming tests. While I can often pretend that cancer is behind me, the next few weeks contain vivid reminders that I live under a bit of a cloud. There is my CT scan, and the follow-up appointment for that. Then, my mammogram (yup, still doing those!) and my follow-up for that. The good news is that these are all in a span of a few weeks, then it is (fingers crossed, lotsa prayers) back to life as usual.
But for now, I'm trying to drink lots of water so that they can more easily find a vein to get blood out, contrast in. I'm trying to relax. And I'm eating lots of chocolate!
This weekend, I started to obsessively plan trips. I'm not someone with wanderlust, so this isn't normal behavior for me. After recording every day off, long weekend and school vacation between now and April, I became a woman obsessed with planning places to go and things to do. I specifically wanted places that were fun, interesting, different, and potentially non-refundable. On top of that, I found a blank spot in my schedule and committed to taking a course this semester. Because, if I plan these things, there is a future, right?
I'm realizing that planning these trips is my coping mechanism for dealing with the stress of any upcoming tests. While I can often pretend that cancer is behind me, the next few weeks contain vivid reminders that I live under a bit of a cloud. There is my CT scan, and the follow-up appointment for that. Then, my mammogram (yup, still doing those!) and my follow-up for that. The good news is that these are all in a span of a few weeks, then it is (fingers crossed, lotsa prayers) back to life as usual.
But for now, I'm trying to drink lots of water so that they can more easily find a vein to get blood out, contrast in. I'm trying to relax. And I'm eating lots of chocolate!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Context for the messages
I'm setting up this blog a bit "after the fact" in response to requests from folks to read all the messages. This is my first time blogging and my first message on it!
Two years after I was diagnosed and treated for DCIS (a very early form of breast cancer), I was diagnosed with colon cancer. With two young children, I was not excited about going through surgery, chemo and everything those would bring into my life. But, for some things, there is no way around them, only through them. So we moved ahead.
At first, I didn't want to tell anyone. Everyone had been so supportive through my DCIS, I didn't want to show up again all, "Hi! It's me again! Cancer vixen!" It also felt a bit like I was crying wolf.
Then a friend of mine, who also had cancer, noted that
1. This is not "crying wolf." This IS wolf.
and
2. People cannot help if they do not know what is going on
So, I slowly started to tell people.
I continue to be amazed by the support we received. It came from places I never would have guessed or have thought to ask for. I am also amazed by the reactions we received. Though there are some reactions that made me uncomfortable, those were truly few and far between. People were incredibly supportive and positive and did not make me feel pathetic.
In this blog are the messages that I sent to a growing support system as I went on this wild ride. I appreciate and relied on all the support I received, and felt so blessed as I traveled along.
I learned that there is just alot of love in the world.
Two years after I was diagnosed and treated for DCIS (a very early form of breast cancer), I was diagnosed with colon cancer. With two young children, I was not excited about going through surgery, chemo and everything those would bring into my life. But, for some things, there is no way around them, only through them. So we moved ahead.
At first, I didn't want to tell anyone. Everyone had been so supportive through my DCIS, I didn't want to show up again all, "Hi! It's me again! Cancer vixen!" It also felt a bit like I was crying wolf.
Then a friend of mine, who also had cancer, noted that
1. This is not "crying wolf." This IS wolf.
and
2. People cannot help if they do not know what is going on
So, I slowly started to tell people.
I continue to be amazed by the support we received. It came from places I never would have guessed or have thought to ask for. I am also amazed by the reactions we received. Though there are some reactions that made me uncomfortable, those were truly few and far between. People were incredibly supportive and positive and did not make me feel pathetic.
In this blog are the messages that I sent to a growing support system as I went on this wild ride. I appreciate and relied on all the support I received, and felt so blessed as I traveled along.
I learned that there is just alot of love in the world.
Hope all is well with you, and happy reading!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Good news from followup tests, and some songs
Hi,
I've been getting some questions about how the CT scan turned out (well), as well as other things, so thought I would intrude on all of you with a follow-up message and a gift.
Overall, life has returned to a new normal. I really appreciate your interest and concern and thoughts. The post-chemo part of the story might sound familiar, especially if you have been down this road yourself or accompanied someone else, maybe not with cancer, but with another medical issue. Even though the medical tests aren't fun, they are a sign that I've moved from the weird world of chemo to experiencing things that are familiar to others. That feels good, as if I am re-entering the real world.
Thank you for your support during the process, and, now, for helping us return to "normal" lives. A few weeks after my last chemo, I had all my tests. They include
- a CT of chest, abs and pelvis. This was the main test where they look for any sign of cancer. And, whew, this was clear. So far, so good.
- a bone density test, because all these drugs can do a number on your bone density. Think, osteoporosis. But, no alarms there.
- genetic testing (found nothing of note)
- baseline blood tests, so that they know what is "normal" for me and can monitor when anything goes up or down
- pelvic ultrasound, because breast-colon-ovarian cancers sometimes go together and I was worried about ovarian next. I'm still working on figuring this one out, because there currently are no good tests for catching ovarian early. But at least nothing showed on the ultrasound so there is no urgency
- and, finally, getting my port removed. This, for me, marked the end of my chemo. When I had it put in, last December, that felt like the true beginning of chemo and I cried through the entire procedure. For the removal, I got the same team, and they remembered me. Oh well. It was a better experience this time. I even got a fancy johnny as a gift from a friend, and wearing that into the procedure felt like I was wrapped in a big hug.
The main two lingering effects that I've noticed are neuropathy and chemo brain. The neuropathy is in my fingers and toes. It primarily makes me prone to dropping things - of course, always at awkward times - and makes it more difficult to do anything that requires fine motor skills, like buttoning buttons or picking up something small. Still, not a major complaint. And, the chemo brain is probably poetic justice, as I have always been really impatient with slow thinkers and forgetful people. So, now I get to live a bit in those shoes!
Oh, and at the risk of oversharing, I did sail into menopause, which is a trip unto itself.
The biggest annoyance is that I find that I am still a bit shell-shocked. A piece of me worries that bad news is lurking around some dark corner, but nonetheless, I'm happy to be getting my energy back, and I'm feeling great. It is wild to get through a day without needing a nap. I actually made pickles the other day and was happily surprised to realize that I still had energy to do other things!
I'm continuing with acupuncture and yoga. I'm starting to look more closely at nutrition. I figure, I can't control much, but if what I eat makes a difference, I'll give it a go. If you thought I was a picky eater before, than hang on for my new level of pickiness! As for activities, I'm trying to make decisions to do things that give me energy, not just what I think I should do. Like everyone, sometimes I'm good at this, and sometimes not.
Oh, I'll share one little tip, in case it is ever useful for you to pass along. When I finished chemo, the boys still had fears about my disappearing, getting sick, etc. Julie suggested and helped my (now) five-year-old throw an "end of chemo" dinner party for us (just the four of us, Julie and her husband). Julie took my son out to buy balloons for the dinner. He took all $4.00 from his savings bank and, after much deliberation about what would be the best present, bought a tiara for me. It was a great time, and it really helped the boys to move forward and be kids again.
So, life goes on. I continue to be so appreciative to all of you for carrying us through all this. As a token of my appreciation, I'd like to share these songs with you.
An amazing local singer and songwriter, Anna Huckabee Tull, wrote these songs and is the singer and one of the musicians on the recordings. Collaborating with her to write the songs was an amazing process. She interviewed me, and I rambled on. There was so much in the experience of having cancer and chemo -- so much crap, so much good, so many messages to take away and changes to me and my life. I couldn't sort through it all in my head. After we talked, it felt like I was handing everything over to her -- all my experiences and fears and feelings -- and trusting to her take care of all of them. I walked away from those conversations feeling lighter and hopeful of the future, whatever it may bring. That was great.
Later, when I heard the songs, it felt like she somehow sorted through all the jumble and made some sense out of all my confusion. I am thrilled with what she created.
These songs are really personal to me, but because you've shared so much with me, I want to share them with you, too. Besides, I shared all the other nutty songs that we running through my head during the past year!
This first song is "From the Inside." It reflects what it felt like going through chemo. It is long and slow and sometimes lonely. However, there is also a fullness to it, and a sense of support and hope running through it. There are overlapping voices in it, just like all the different voices and feelings that were simultaneously going on inside my head. And by the end, it is strong. Though I can't speak to Anna's experience in writing this, she noted that this one was a relatively long, drawn out process and took quite a bit of work as it unfolded.
Here is the link to "From the Inside":
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/files/fromtheinside.mp3
The second song is called "The Days of your Opening." It is more upbeat and comparatively fast-moving.To me, it reflects the positive elements that came from going through chemo and the potential of the days to come. Again, I can't speak to Anna's experience in writing this, but she mentioned that, after writing the first song, this one just popped out. Sort of like, you have to go through the "work" to get to the sunshine on the other side (my words, not hers). I guess like life.
Here is the link to "The Days of Your Opening":
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/files/thedaysofyouropening.mp3
If you like her work, Anna's website is:
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/
and you can sign up to receive her Song of the Month.
The lyrics to these songs are on her website, too. (I couldn't figure out how to attach them here.)
So, that is about it. As life moves ahead, I look forward to sharing good times together! In the meantime, I wish you loads of love and laughter in your life, every day.
Much love,
Marie
I've been getting some questions about how the CT scan turned out (well), as well as other things, so thought I would intrude on all of you with a follow-up message and a gift.
Overall, life has returned to a new normal. I really appreciate your interest and concern and thoughts. The post-chemo part of the story might sound familiar, especially if you have been down this road yourself or accompanied someone else, maybe not with cancer, but with another medical issue. Even though the medical tests aren't fun, they are a sign that I've moved from the weird world of chemo to experiencing things that are familiar to others. That feels good, as if I am re-entering the real world.
Thank you for your support during the process, and, now, for helping us return to "normal" lives. A few weeks after my last chemo, I had all my tests. They include
- a CT of chest, abs and pelvis. This was the main test where they look for any sign of cancer. And, whew, this was clear. So far, so good.
- a bone density test, because all these drugs can do a number on your bone density. Think, osteoporosis. But, no alarms there.
- genetic testing (found nothing of note)
- baseline blood tests, so that they know what is "normal" for me and can monitor when anything goes up or down
- pelvic ultrasound, because breast-colon-ovarian cancers sometimes go together and I was worried about ovarian next. I'm still working on figuring this one out, because there currently are no good tests for catching ovarian early. But at least nothing showed on the ultrasound so there is no urgency
- and, finally, getting my port removed. This, for me, marked the end of my chemo. When I had it put in, last December, that felt like the true beginning of chemo and I cried through the entire procedure. For the removal, I got the same team, and they remembered me. Oh well. It was a better experience this time. I even got a fancy johnny as a gift from a friend, and wearing that into the procedure felt like I was wrapped in a big hug.
The main two lingering effects that I've noticed are neuropathy and chemo brain. The neuropathy is in my fingers and toes. It primarily makes me prone to dropping things - of course, always at awkward times - and makes it more difficult to do anything that requires fine motor skills, like buttoning buttons or picking up something small. Still, not a major complaint. And, the chemo brain is probably poetic justice, as I have always been really impatient with slow thinkers and forgetful people. So, now I get to live a bit in those shoes!
Oh, and at the risk of oversharing, I did sail into menopause, which is a trip unto itself.
The biggest annoyance is that I find that I am still a bit shell-shocked. A piece of me worries that bad news is lurking around some dark corner, but nonetheless, I'm happy to be getting my energy back, and I'm feeling great. It is wild to get through a day without needing a nap. I actually made pickles the other day and was happily surprised to realize that I still had energy to do other things!
I'm continuing with acupuncture and yoga. I'm starting to look more closely at nutrition. I figure, I can't control much, but if what I eat makes a difference, I'll give it a go. If you thought I was a picky eater before, than hang on for my new level of pickiness! As for activities, I'm trying to make decisions to do things that give me energy, not just what I think I should do. Like everyone, sometimes I'm good at this, and sometimes not.
Oh, I'll share one little tip, in case it is ever useful for you to pass along. When I finished chemo, the boys still had fears about my disappearing, getting sick, etc. Julie suggested and helped my (now) five-year-old throw an "end of chemo" dinner party for us (just the four of us, Julie and her husband). Julie took my son out to buy balloons for the dinner. He took all $4.00 from his savings bank and, after much deliberation about what would be the best present, bought a tiara for me. It was a great time, and it really helped the boys to move forward and be kids again.
So, life goes on. I continue to be so appreciative to all of you for carrying us through all this. As a token of my appreciation, I'd like to share these songs with you.
An amazing local singer and songwriter, Anna Huckabee Tull, wrote these songs and is the singer and one of the musicians on the recordings. Collaborating with her to write the songs was an amazing process. She interviewed me, and I rambled on. There was so much in the experience of having cancer and chemo -- so much crap, so much good, so many messages to take away and changes to me and my life. I couldn't sort through it all in my head. After we talked, it felt like I was handing everything over to her -- all my experiences and fears and feelings -- and trusting to her take care of all of them. I walked away from those conversations feeling lighter and hopeful of the future, whatever it may bring. That was great.
Later, when I heard the songs, it felt like she somehow sorted through all the jumble and made some sense out of all my confusion. I am thrilled with what she created.
These songs are really personal to me, but because you've shared so much with me, I want to share them with you, too. Besides, I shared all the other nutty songs that we running through my head during the past year!
This first song is "From the Inside." It reflects what it felt like going through chemo. It is long and slow and sometimes lonely. However, there is also a fullness to it, and a sense of support and hope running through it. There are overlapping voices in it, just like all the different voices and feelings that were simultaneously going on inside my head. And by the end, it is strong. Though I can't speak to Anna's experience in writing this, she noted that this one was a relatively long, drawn out process and took quite a bit of work as it unfolded.
Here is the link to "From the Inside":
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/files/fromtheinside.mp3
The second song is called "The Days of your Opening." It is more upbeat and comparatively fast-moving.To me, it reflects the positive elements that came from going through chemo and the potential of the days to come. Again, I can't speak to Anna's experience in writing this, but she mentioned that, after writing the first song, this one just popped out. Sort of like, you have to go through the "work" to get to the sunshine on the other side (my words, not hers). I guess like life.
Here is the link to "The Days of Your Opening":
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/files/thedaysofyouropening.mp3
If you like her work, Anna's website is:
http://www.customcraftedsongs.com/
and you can sign up to receive her Song of the Month.
The lyrics to these songs are on her website, too. (I couldn't figure out how to attach them here.)
So, that is about it. As life moves ahead, I look forward to sharing good times together! In the meantime, I wish you loads of love and laughter in your life, every day.
Much love,
Marie
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
CT scan is clean!
Hi everyone,
Since last Sept, I have been hoping to be able to send this happy message. I am almost completely done with treatment and moving into follow- up mode!
In these two weeks, I'm doing tons of tests, but the one I was waiting for was the CT scan to see if any little buggers are still in my bod. And, none showed up! Yay!
I am thrilled to be able to share this news, though, of course, I am cautiously optimistic. I know you can relate to that. As fate would have it, I walked out of that meeting with my good news and and ran slam bang into a woman there dealing with the return of her husband's cancer. A little reminder. Oh well. I'm still enjoying the moment, especially knowing that, if it returns, I would be really bummed out if I didn't enjoy the NOW!
I don't know where to begin to say thank you for your support. You guys were there from the raw beginning, when I was asking for advice on how to prep for a colonoscopy! Your presence is way more huge than I can even begin to get my head, heart, arms around. And, it's almost midnight and I'm tired but wanted to share this while it was still new news.
Much love and all good wishes for a most awesome summer,
Marie
Since last Sept, I have been hoping to be able to send this happy message. I am almost completely done with treatment and moving into follow- up mode!
In these two weeks, I'm doing tons of tests, but the one I was waiting for was the CT scan to see if any little buggers are still in my bod. And, none showed up! Yay!
I am thrilled to be able to share this news, though, of course, I am cautiously optimistic. I know you can relate to that. As fate would have it, I walked out of that meeting with my good news and and ran slam bang into a woman there dealing with the return of her husband's cancer. A little reminder. Oh well. I'm still enjoying the moment, especially knowing that, if it returns, I would be really bummed out if I didn't enjoy the NOW!
I don't know where to begin to say thank you for your support. You guys were there from the raw beginning, when I was asking for advice on how to prep for a colonoscopy! Your presence is way more huge than I can even begin to get my head, heart, arms around. And, it's almost midnight and I'm tired but wanted to share this while it was still new news.
Much love and all good wishes for a most awesome summer,
Marie
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