The past few days I've been a little on edge. Matt delicately tried to tell me it was nerves about today's CT Scan. I thought that was a little crazy. I mean it's just a simple test, right? And I don't even get the results today. I assumed the edginess would come on Wednesday and Thursday when the results are imminent.
I woke up this morning feeling nervous and yet almost excited to get this done. I am tired of sitting around thinking about what's coming... I want to start taking action against this cancer. My phone was pinging all morning with texts from friends wishing me good luck. Some included photos of their cute pets, which Reagan LOVED. Another group of friends went to 8:30 mass at our church to pray for me. What more can a girl ask for than to be so clearly loved and cherished by so many people?
CT Scan was scheduled for 10:00. No one told me I needed to arrive at 9 to drink the nasty drink. But they were accommodating anyway and didn't turn me away when we arrived at 9:40. At about 10:30 they took me back to get changed, finish the last glass of the drink, and start the IV. That's where the day took a turn for the worse. Six years ago, chemo destroyed the veins in my left arm. My right arm is useless for IV's or blood draws since I have no lymph nodes on that side due to the mastectomy surgery. There were four people working the CT Scan. They each tried once to get a vein for the IV. They all failed. As they were marveling over my lack of veins in my arm, I was laying there freezing. They kept apologizing for the pokes and for taking so long. I kept apologizing for having bad veins and taking up so much of their time.
Finally they call the radiology doctor in. She was so sweet and kind and kept telling me what beautiful skin I have. The downfall of having such beautiful skin is that there are no veins popping up for them to stick. After ten minutes, she thinks she's found one... she got a little blood release but apparently the vein then vanished. I was starting to get nervous now. I'm used to it taking 2, sometimes 3 pokes to get blood, but never 5. They then said I had to go down to the Infusion Center since the nurses there were "good at this sort of thing." I was escorted down to the Cancer Infusion Center wearing my little hospital gown and ridiculously large scrub pants, with a heated blanket draped over my back. Pretty sure I looked like a crazy homeless lady.
As I walked into the infusion center, I was flooded with memories of my chemo days. That didn't help the growing headache and nausea I was feeling. The nurses were so incredibly nice, as are all oncology nurses I've learned. It took this poor woman two tries before she finally hit the jackpot! The best part of this whole debacle was when the nurse said that I was " a real toughie." While I never feel that I am tough, it's nice to hear that someone thinks I am!
After over an hour of trying to find a vein, I was finally ready for the five minute CT Scan. The test itself wasn't difficult or painful in any way. I was thoroughly glad it was finally over. As I walked out, I couldn't help but peek into the room to try and get a glimpse of the images. You know, because I have oh so much medical knowledge ;) The one image I saw looked like the white areas were relegated to just the bones, and no other organs. So I'm going to hang on to this thought for the next few days. Let's just hope that 1. that really was an image of MY bones, and 2. my non CT scan reading abilities are correct!
And now we wait...........
I woke up this morning feeling nervous and yet almost excited to get this done. I am tired of sitting around thinking about what's coming... I want to start taking action against this cancer. My phone was pinging all morning with texts from friends wishing me good luck. Some included photos of their cute pets, which Reagan LOVED. Another group of friends went to 8:30 mass at our church to pray for me. What more can a girl ask for than to be so clearly loved and cherished by so many people?
CT Scan was scheduled for 10:00. No one told me I needed to arrive at 9 to drink the nasty drink. But they were accommodating anyway and didn't turn me away when we arrived at 9:40. At about 10:30 they took me back to get changed, finish the last glass of the drink, and start the IV. That's where the day took a turn for the worse. Six years ago, chemo destroyed the veins in my left arm. My right arm is useless for IV's or blood draws since I have no lymph nodes on that side due to the mastectomy surgery. There were four people working the CT Scan. They each tried once to get a vein for the IV. They all failed. As they were marveling over my lack of veins in my arm, I was laying there freezing. They kept apologizing for the pokes and for taking so long. I kept apologizing for having bad veins and taking up so much of their time.
Finally they call the radiology doctor in. She was so sweet and kind and kept telling me what beautiful skin I have. The downfall of having such beautiful skin is that there are no veins popping up for them to stick. After ten minutes, she thinks she's found one... she got a little blood release but apparently the vein then vanished. I was starting to get nervous now. I'm used to it taking 2, sometimes 3 pokes to get blood, but never 5. They then said I had to go down to the Infusion Center since the nurses there were "good at this sort of thing." I was escorted down to the Cancer Infusion Center wearing my little hospital gown and ridiculously large scrub pants, with a heated blanket draped over my back. Pretty sure I looked like a crazy homeless lady.
As I walked into the infusion center, I was flooded with memories of my chemo days. That didn't help the growing headache and nausea I was feeling. The nurses were so incredibly nice, as are all oncology nurses I've learned. It took this poor woman two tries before she finally hit the jackpot! The best part of this whole debacle was when the nurse said that I was " a real toughie." While I never feel that I am tough, it's nice to hear that someone thinks I am!
After over an hour of trying to find a vein, I was finally ready for the five minute CT Scan. The test itself wasn't difficult or painful in any way. I was thoroughly glad it was finally over. As I walked out, I couldn't help but peek into the room to try and get a glimpse of the images. You know, because I have oh so much medical knowledge ;) The one image I saw looked like the white areas were relegated to just the bones, and no other organs. So I'm going to hang on to this thought for the next few days. Let's just hope that 1. that really was an image of MY bones, and 2. my non CT scan reading abilities are correct!
And now we wait...........
Mama knows you are braver than you think and one tough cookie. You stood up to cancer before and you WILL do it now. Get that fighting spirit on and never, never, never, ever give into fear. Attitude is the best medicine. Loving you every fighting minute.
ReplyDeleteYou are right Melissa, everyone is sending their love, best wishes and prayers to you right now. Keep being brave. Even though we've never met, you and I are cousins, but more importantly you and your Mom are my heroes. You are the bravest, fiercest two women I have ever known. I am in AWE of what you have been through and come through with such dignity and grace. When I grow up, I want to be just like you! Sending you all my love and best prayers. My prayers are with you every day, honey!~ God Bless Melissa, now and always.
ReplyDeleteCancer obviously doesn't know who it's messing with. I'm so proud to have you as my friend, Melissa. Your positive energy is contagious! I'm thinking of you, Matt, and the girls every step of the way.
ReplyDelete