Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Truth of the Matter Is.....

Today went better than I had hoped for.  The two most important things that occurred were these:

1. My staging was downgraded to Stage IB2.  This means that there was a pelvic node that tested positive for cancer.  Also that it hadn't spread.  One of my lymph nodes, near my cervix is enlarged.  This could be as a result of the cancer, and it is my body's response to be able to fight it off.  Worst case scenario the cancer will be found in the lymph node which would change the staging to a Stage II, but that won't change the course of treatment.

2. I now have a treatment plan.

Let me back up a bit.

Coach and I left this morning around 7:00 and made it to our appointment at 8:15, which was 45 minutes early.  Go us!! I love the HOV lane in Arizona for this very fact.  The traffic on the 202 was at a standstill, but we were able to cruise right through due to having 2 people in the car.  Really people.  Just carpool and you could sleep in a bit.  I digress.

Upon our arrival at Arizona Oncology we were checked in by a slightly offish desk lady, which I guess for her this is every day.  That's okay.  I didn't have too much to say to her anyway.  When Coach and I finally found a seat, I looked around.  I saw beautiful people there.  People struggling with their own battles and handling them with stoicism and grace.  I saw lovely bald heads and contemplated that for a bit, before Coach drew my attention to the very large beverage dispenser.

My middle sister had warned be about delicious treats at the office, so which I scoffed, but it was true! Coach stood near the machine for a bit and then decided on warm, chocolate milk.  Any other day it would have been a comforting smell, today, it was super sweet and began to wage warfare on my stomach-through my nose.  Coach drank it and peace was restored to my belly.  I really haven't eaten well for awhile, food tastes like cardboard and everything makes my stomach ache.  No muy bueno.



I wasn't nervous.  I was anxious.  I am ready to begin whatever is before me so that I can beat this, and move forward.

Soon our names were called and I was heading back to another exam room.  When we walked in I saw the paper clothing and was not happy.  No one had informed me that I was going to have to again talk to another stranger for 5 minutes and then have them probing around my nether parts.  I should have anticipated, but I didn't.  I saw the duck, another jar of mustard, and another biopsy grabber, with the added bonus I looked at Coach and voiced my disdain, but really what was the point?

Dr. B's medical student came in first.  Her name was Abby and she was a delight in a forced comfort/stark like world.  We joked about tampons and death smells.  It seems wrong, but I like to laugh about things that really shouldn't be funny.  It's how I cope.  She soon left and then I met Dr. B.

I know that it's bad to compare, but we all do it.  Dr. B has a great poker face, compared to Dr. G's completely expressive one.  Dr. B couldn't remember even knowing Dr. G, although Dr. G swears that they hang out on a regular basis.  Dr. B was all business, Dr. G was all compassion.  That is the difference between a profession where you have to deliver terrible news more often than happy, and a profession where babies are the reward for a job well done.  What do you do?

Dr. B talked about pap smears again.  I think he asked me three times if I'd ever had an abnormal one.  The answer each time was "No." He asked again two questions later.  Same answer.  He then told me that we would be doing another biopsy because the first one only concluded that there was pre-cancerous cells. Come again?  I had been told I had cancer to now be told that it was only a maybe.  For the love!  This additional biopsy would be more detailed and would open the doors for cancer treatment pre-approval.


Scooting my bum to the end of the table again, I thought man-I really need to ask for dinner first.  During the biopsy I was told that it doesn't hurt.  I forgot that he had a vagina.  Oh wait.  It doesn't hurt initially, but my uterus does not like things in that area being poked and so the back cramps that had abated a few days ago returned with a vengeance.  But that doesn't hurt, right? (Yes, that was sarcastic).

As soon as he saw what he calls my "lesion" he confirmed that yep, I still have cancer.  I was conflicted at this point.  Was I happy that it actually was cancer? Or mad that yes, it's still cancer?  Gambit of emotions.  Played with my head for a minute and then I moved past it.

After that was finished then came the rectal exam.  Feel free to skip if you like.  I wanted to skip that part as well.  Dr. B even commented that he didn't go to the doctor to avoid rectal exams as well.  Nice to know. Ha!

I changed my clothes and Coach and I waited for a minute before getting to sit in Dr. B's office.  Dr. B's office had a nice white, leather couch and a painting on the wall that was of a red leafed tree that had been cut into three parts.  Coach commented that it was interesting.  I thought it looked like Illinois.

Dr. B came in and the diagrams of lady parts was put on display on the big screen.  He told me that with the case of my lesion in the old days that would have meant a radical hysterectomy.  This means that they would take out the cervix, uterus, ovaries and a large margin around the area in order to get to clean tissue that is cancer free.   The down side to this plan would be if the margin came too close my lines that allow the kidneys to drain.  It could create a complication and WHAMO- colostomy bag.  They would then follow up with radiation.  Now days I had the option of going straight to radiation with a mild dose of chemo (in pill form) without the surgery.  I listened and was overwhelmed.  He said that the outcome is the same either way.  I listened some more.



We talked about RADS, the radioactive elements that are beamed into the body; how much more precise they are these days.  How the human body is designed to handle 5,000 RADS, but I would need 8,000.  He said that in order to make this work effectively I would need to have a bar inserted into the cervix/uterus in order to direct the radiation to the appropriate place.  The human bowel can only handle 500 RADS before it starts to deteriorate.  In order to not have to end up on a colostomy bag, the bar would need to be inserted.  Sound like fun? Just wait...it gets better.

The radiation and bar will cause my uterus and vaginal area to scar.  Up until this point I was being naive and thought perhaps kids was still in the picture.  Nope.  The radiation will kill all of my lady parts that makes kiddos possible, and what is left will be useless.  I will essentially be going into forced menopause.  I'll let you know how the night sweats go.

This schedule will go in the following order: PET scan to see just where the cancer is located and to make sure it hasn't spread.  Following the scan I will be scheduled for 6 weeks of radiation Monday through Friday- every day.  I'll also be given a low dose of chemo each day for these weeks.  Good news, it's just 6 weeks and then hopefully I'm cancer free, I also get to keep my hair.  Bad news- I'll for sure meet my deductible insurance wise.  Man!!  Dr. B is looking for a facility close to our boondockers to administer all of this fun.  Otherwise I'm driving an hour each day into Phoenix and back again.

I asked about the plan for potential re-occurrence.  He said that it is a possibility and if that were to happen it would mean surgery and chemo.  You are only able to go through a radiation regiment once.  Your body can't handle more than that.

We shook hands, I attempted to crack jokes.  They fell flat on him, but made the med student laugh, so mission partially accomplished.  We left, called family and friends, and here we are.

My kiddos are relieved that it's not looking too invasive.  K was super happy that I wouldn't have to stay in the hospital.  G is happy I won't be losing my hair.  I'm happy to have a light at the end of the tunnel.

I believe in the power of prayer.  I know that everyone who is praying for me, my family, and our situation has had a hand in the downgrading of the staging.  I feel it.  I know it to be true.  Thank you for the strength, the love, the packages, the thoughts, the texts, the donations, the love.  It's working.  It's all working.

Happy days and gamma radiation dreams ahead! ~Kami






4 comments:

Watson Family said...

Sending all our love and prayers your way, and will continue putting your name on the Mesa temple prayer rolls every week until you're cancer free, dearest Kami!

Keersten said...

I am so happy about the downstaging (no, that is a real term!) We are praying hard that this goes well. Lots of Love!

Unknown said...

I'm so happy that you get to keep your hair! That part made me cry because its like you get to keep the crown of dignity while you're dealing with all of the grody stuff that cancer treatment brings. Yay for a lesser staging! We are all over the fasting and praying for you and your family through all of this.

Heidi said...

I'm so happy about the downstaging, but ugh, Kami, that exam and the appointment altogether sound kind of agonizing. You are definitely a superstar!! (I think I would have cracked under the exams alone, let alone with a no-sense-of-humor stoic doc doing the job.)