My PET Scan

Last week, my oncologist Dr. Ellis ordered a PET scan.  He didn't think there was a reason to be concerned, but since my cancer popped up so fast, he just wanted rule out there the nasty little monster was just contained in my breast.

A PET scan is where they inject some sort of radioactive material into your veins and then take some pictures.  It was explained to me that the radioactive material will 'gather' at any tumors, thus highlighting any problem areas.

Upon checking in, a nurse quickly greeted me and took me back to start an IV.  My veins are basically pros at IV's and I barely even get nervous at the thought of them any more, although I still look away before and during the poke.

Once the IV was in place, a nice man (with tattoos peaking out underneath his lab coat ~ I like him already!) came and took me back to a quiet room.  He instructed me to sit back and relax, asked some medical history questions, and then said he would be right back with the mix.  He left my room and walked straight across the hall to a door that required both the scan of some clearance card and a pin number to enter.  It had a sign on it that looked like this:

When he came back in, he had a small little metal box to transport 'the goods'.  He opened the box and I shit you not he took out a metal looking syringe.  I held back my comments as must as possible but I finally blurted out:  "You mean you have to have a bright yellow sign on the door, a card and password to enter that little room, a metal transport box and a metal syringe to protect yourself and you are getting ready to inject me with it?!"  He sort of chuckled and said "yeah, I guess so."  I could feel the room temperature fluid go in my arm and if felt slightly cold.  Also, as soon as it was injected, I got a mild rubbing alcohol taste in my mouth.  No biggie.  

Here's the best part:  Once I was radiated, he turned the lights down, spread a couple of warm blankets over me (yes, sort of like they do at the spa) and told me I needed to lay still for about 45 minutes.  I didn't sleep well the night before, so I was game.  Plus, having a 4 year old, I never get 45 minutes of quiet time!  I closed my eyes and tried to relax.  After what seemed like 20 minutes, I opened my eyes to check the clock again.  It had been a whopping 4 minutes!  Not to worry, my valium was about to kick in, so off to dream land I went.  

After 45 minutes, a nurse came and got me and took me back to the PET scan room.  I laid on this skinny table that slid back in forth through a imagining tube.  I have read horror stories of people freaking out in MRI machines, but lucky for me, and thanks to the valium, my tube was only about 4 feet long, so I never felt 'trapped.'   

This morning, I got the call - The PET scan came back negative!  Whoo Hoo!  They said there was some 'gathering' around my axillary node, but the doctor attributed that to my axillary node dissection and not to cancer... Not sure how they can distinguish the two (I plan to ask a few more questions on Thursday).  But, this is another big win!  Big shout out to our big God!