Well, it is over. I made it through another scan.
To recap: Three months ago I learned that a lymph node toward the front of my chest had enlarged to 1.9 cm--that is huge! Those guys are usually not even a centimeter in size Also, there is some thickening of the pleura of my right lung that the radiologist deemed potentially metastatic spread.
As I usually do, my brain went through the different scenarios preparing for what could be the worst or even the best results of this scan. I would think about what my oncologist would say. Would she begin with: how are you feeling--an indication the news was not good. Or, would she jump right in with the only information that mattered--an excellent start for what will most certainly be great news. Then I would play my mind's movie, what I would say and how I would say it. In the past, I have had some kind of plan. A plan I could throw at her hoping she catches it in order for me to stay on my current treatment. Luckily, in the past, she has caught it, agreed to it, and the plan worked. But, my research and the knowledge that I have already had so much radiation to my chest made me painfully aware this time I had no plan. My sense of control--so needed by all of us--was gone.
The knock came, my oncologist entered. She seemed at ease, a good sign. She sat down and began talking. "Well, your scans look good".
I say, "What?"
She looked at me like: what do you mean, what?
That followed with the best conversation. A conversation I was so sure I was not going to have.
She let me know that the lymph node had decreased. Could have been some kind of infection causing the increase but really all that mattered was its size. It wasn't super small, yet, but it was down from 1.9 to 1.5 cm. As for the pleural thickening, it was stable. She didn't seem that concerned about the thickening having not mentioned it to me two months ago. I learned of it by reading the radiologist's comments on my report.
We moved away from the scan report as our conversation continued. I asked her whether I should get the COVID vaccine. She said, "Yes", without hesitation.
My next scan was set and will be at the end of May just before school lets out for the summer. And, I get to continue my treatments with Kadcyla. The burden was lifted. and I smiled all the way to the infusion room.
Thinking of spring and all of life's possibilities as I continue to find my way in the world after leaving my husband made for a tremendously happy ride home. If Kadcyla can continue doing the incredible task of keeping those little cancer cells in check, maybe I will be watching my youngest graduate from college in 2025. Hope is still winning!
