So today I am going to get the results of my second systoscopy! Last week was my second systoscopy and I arrived at the appointment knowing from the last test that the doctor was going to find a piece of something (mesh, thread, I don’t know what) and then make a plan to remove it. At least, that’s what I thought was going to happen. What actually happened is that she found nothing! It was fairly painful, this procedure, and particularly because the doctor was working so hard to be certain, but at the end of it all, she said there was nothing there. The general opinion is that I have pain in the pelvic and abdominal muscles and will need some physiotherapy to treat this.
I don’t know if all people who have cancer go through the same thought process that I do all though this journey. For me, each time we receive a new piece of news, my brain immediately goes to all of the terrible things it could mean. Even though I promised myself I would do no more of my own research through google reading, I went home and had a look at pelvic and abdominal muscle pain. There were several suggestions but I have a homing device in my brain every time that ovarian cancer is mentioned and sure enough, there it was. Because I watched my mom in her terminal journey with ovarian cancer, it has been my biggest fear. My panic was instant but I managed to pull myself together and remember that I have been tested, looked at, x-rayed, looked through, poked prodded and looked inside and been reassured by every doctor that there is no cancer other than my breast cancer. Okay, breathe, BREATHE!
For those of you who have not lived through cancer themselves or alongside a friend or family member, it is truly amazing how quickly you get used to the routine of the doctor and cancer clinic visits. I must say that I know how truly lucky I am to live in this city with this most outstanding cancer centre and wonderful doctors. Even though I have infinite trust in all of the doctors who have treated me so far, it doesn’t change my ongoing fears and dreadful outcomes I come up with before every visit. If any details are different about instructions to come for a visit, I decide that there must be something bad they are going to tell me. This time, I was told when setting up the appointment that I didn’t need to have a blood test on the way in. Yup, then I decided there must be some new bad news. Good God, I need to stop this.
Each visit follows a pattern. Most times, you arrive early so that you can stop at the lab and have blood taken. You then arrive at the doctor’s clinic and get weighed and often, measured as well. Even though the medication that I am on has affected my food tastes, it hasn’t affected my appetite. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. There are many foods I’ve always loved that I don’t want to eat at all and most times, I don’t know until mealtime what I want. And I’m very specific about what I want. Thank goodness I still feel well enough to prepare food because if I were the person preparing for me, I would be truly frustrated. I have a good appetite; I just don’t know what I want. I’m a royal pain in the ass about it but can’t seem to help it. The tastes are weird. In spite of all this confusion about what I want to eat when, I have not lost an ounce of weight in this whole journey so far. But here’s the thing – because I’m old, I’m getting shorter, so I haven’t gained weight but I’m fatter. I think it’s like I’m being compressed. The same weight has to fit into a smaller package.
After weight-in, you then see the doctor. Both my surgeon and oncologist always appear to be ready to give me all the time I need and never seem impatient or bothered by questions or all my cancer paranoia.
Today was a good news day. The doctor told me after examination that my cancer appears to be shrinking and perhaps we won’t need to do chemotherapy before surgery. I will soon have a mammogram to measure my progress and then surgical decisions will be made. We certainly thought that was worth celebrating.
I think what I’m learning is that this journey takes me through incredible, ongoing, huge highs and lows. I’ve decided to celebrate the highs, give myself a shake about the lows I imagine, and use all of the knowledge I have about stress, worry and pain to get through the real lows.
