Good News!

I'll cut right to the chase: GOOD NEWS!  Yes, there are two small cysts on my liver, but they aren't dangerous.  Praise the Lord!  I feel like I can fully move forward now.

Now, the backstory:  I reported to my MRI.  Pretty sure the most painful part of all of it was paying for it.  Since my insurance has started over for the year, that bill was a whopper!  But, I must say, while paying the bill stung, I am so grateful to have insurance and to have access to great medical care.

So, upon checking in, I start feeling nervous.  We did a really good job not thinking about the 'what if's' and walking into the building was a reminder that things may not be okay.  I was quickly greeted by a cheery, outgoing young man.  He did my intake and took me back to a changing room.  Bonus: I didn't have to take off all my clothes, just my bra, which had wire clasps.  That would have been great and all, except I wore a white shirt, so there I am walking out to my room with no bra and a white shirt.  Oh, and it was cold.  Oh, and while my breasts have no sensation, they can detect cold, and one nipple seems to be a little more sensitive than the other, so... there's that ;).  Luckily, the gentleman quickly greeted me with a warm blanket ~ not sure if it was meant to cover up my winking nipples or what, but it was very much appreciated.

Sidenote: This time last year, I never wore a bra.  It was amazing.  And now I am realizing that I'm getting my 'normal' back by being self conscious when I don't have a bra on.  Props to normalcy!

Once my IV is started, I get led back to a room with the huge MRI machine.  I lay on the table and am given ear plugs.  The machine is loud!  I sort of start to panic in my head, as I see the tube I will be placed in during the test.  Go find about a 24 inch drainage tube outside and fit your whole body into it.  Oh, and give someone a hammer to bang around while you are in the tube.  That's pretty much what it is like.  45 minutes later (and I did actually relax a bit ~ those MRI machines have nothing on a 5 year old who has a blaring iPad and a blaring tv on all at once) I was finished.  I did a good job of keeping calm as long as I wouldn't let my mind wander about those dreaded 'what ifs'.

And I was worried I'd have to fart.  Mainly because of this hilarious story I once read: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elaine-ambrose/dont-fart-during-an-mri_b_6044578.html. So, I guess I'm happy to report that not only were my MRI results fine, but I also managed not to fart during the test!  #Winning!

Ugh, My Body Hates Me. And another confession. Don't judge.

So, I not so patiently waited for my CT scan results to come in.  I was so excited to get the call that I was officially all clear and start kicking some butt in 2016.  I've signed up for a few half-marathons, planned out vacations with the family, thought of some ambitious goals ~ This was going to be my year to move forward.  I was psyched!

Today, we were at a playdate and I saw the "No Caller ID" show up on my phone.  I knew it was either a telemarker or my oncology office with the results.  It was a cheery nurse on the other line to let me know my scan results were in.  As soon as she said that, I got all excited about getting the news and my sweet girlfriend being there to celebrate the all clear!  I instantly envisioned us doing a 'cheers' with our coffee cups.

I stepped out of the room so I could clearly hear my results.  I wanted to take the moment in fully ~ This was big - This was going to be the start of a new year.  She took a deep breath and then started talking.  I tried to make sense out of what she was saying, and while I could hear her, I wasn't putting the words together very well.  Before I even knew what was happening, I got the hot, starry blackness feeling that happens before you pass out.  I sat down on the stair case.  Words I heard were: Liver. Lesion.  Abnormal.  Cyst.  Benign.  Malignant.  MRI.  I couldn't make sense of it, but I knew it wasn't what I was hoping for.

I'm not in the mood to talk about it.  I just wanted to write my feelings down, so know that by the time I post this, hopefully the panic will be gone.  God is still good all the time.  I am confident this is nothing... I know lesions or cysts are common - most people just may not be aware of them because they don't get scans.  And, I know that I can and will handle whatever comes my way.  Truth is, though, I am tired and I don't want to handle any of it.

I felt like cancer made me better.  But, I honestly don't feel the same about these little hiccups.  I'm tired of looking over my shoulder, so to speak.  I was so excited and prepared to start looking forward...

Still blessed.  Stressed, but blessed.

(Sidenote: I'm thankful I was with friends when I got this call.  Immediately, they sent me home to be with Richard and get some stuff in order.  They offered to take Mason for the afternoon.  They let me vent and cuss.  No judgement.  Just genuine friendship.  Love you ladies!)

UPDATE: After some digging, I was able to get access to my report and had it read by the very best doctor I have ever known (my Dad!).  He said it didn't look like any major cause for concern.  They are just being thorough, as they should be.  Truth is, you may very well have lesions on your liver, you just aren't lucky enough getting scans to tell you.  So, I will follow through with maxing out my out-of-pocket insurance payment for 2016 the recommended MRI, but I'm really not worried about it.  My oncologist doesn't believe it is cancer related.  And I'm feeling very optimistic.  My liver MRI is scheduled for next week.

Confession: *Please don't judge me!  We all do stupid shit I'm just stupid enough to share it.* I told Richard that this is probably karma for the 2 weeks I experimented in college.  I was looking for a sympathetic "Oh, Julie.  No it's not!" but instead, he said "You are probably right!"  But, let's be honest, if our bodies were karma for what we did in college, a lot of you would probably be in some serious trouble!  HA!

And with that confession, I just feel the need to publicly apologize to my mother and mother-in-law.

"Just to be Safe" (and a story about the time I peed my pants)

Last week, I had a 3 month follow-up with my oncologist, Dr. Ellis.  I must say, it's a great feeling walking into that office knowing I am just going to get a little stick for some blood work, and nothing else.  Honestly, I don't even feel like I belong there any more...

All went well with Dr. Ellis and I graduated to 6 month appointments.  Upon some discussion, Dr. Ellis decided it would be best for me to go ahead and have CT scans for the next 3 years, just to be on the safe side.  He said he wanted to take a conservative approach since I am so young and if things were to go wrong again, it would likely happen in the next 3 years.

I have mixed feelings about the scans.  On one hand, I am excited to officially get a clean bill of health to start off my new year.  I feel that may help remove any doubt that something could be lingering since I am no longer doing my maintenance chemo.  On the other side, I know I can't just go in for a scan and not consider the possibilities.  Scans are an opportunity to reinforce my feeling of health, but the are also an opportunity to stress about the 'what if.'

Lucky for me, the schedulers worked to get my CT scan in before the end of the year so it would be covered under this year's insurance.  So, on Dec. 31st, into the imaging center I went.

Once I filled out the paperwork, the procedure was relatively quick.  They start an IV, I go into this room with the big imagining machine and lay on this table that moves me in and out of this circular machine.  The tech warned me that the contrast dye may give me a bit of a metal taste in my mouth and a slight flush feeling.  I thought to myself I've been through chemo and have been thrown in instant menopause with hot flashes and night sweats, I can handle a little flush feeling.  Y'all, as soon as they started pushing the dye through my IV, I felt this intense warm feeling all over my body (image your body being one of those 'Hot Hands' pouches that heat up).  Again, I can handle the hot flash part, but what I wasn't prepared for is the incredibly warm feeling in my groin.  It felt like I had peed my pants... And, believe it or not, I know exactly what it feels like to pee your pants as an adult.  It was about 5 and a half years ago.  I was in my sister's driveway, 8 months pregnant.  I started laughing about something and could not stop (a common occurrence when I'm with my sister).  Well, needless to say, that wasn't the only thing I couldn't stop.  Yep, right there in Briarbrook Circle, I full on peed my pants.  We're not talking about a little dribble.  I'm talking about having to run up stairs and take a bath because my jeans were completely soaked.  I digress.  Luckily, after about 30 seconds of that feeling, my body started to return to it's normal feeling.

Honestly, I hadn't worried about the scan much at all... Until I was lying on that table.  Once I was over the panic of thinking I had peed my pants, my thoughts started to drift off to the worse case scenario.  What if it's back?  What if they find some other issue that I wasn't even aware of?  Luckily, the scan was quick, so I didn't have too much time to whip myself up into a full on frenzy.

Of course, the tech can't tell me anything about what they see on the images.  I so desperately want them to break protocol and tell me that everything looks great.  She tells me that she doesn't see anything that warrants her keeping me there... What the hell does that mean?  I think to myself "No shit Sherlock, I know I'm not having a heart attack or anything, but they send women with cancer home every day."  I study her face, hoping she'll give me a reassuring wink or something... But I got nothing.

As I'm leaving, she compliments me on my hair.  Naturally, I'm assuming she is complimenting my hair because she feels sorry for me based off of what she sees on my scan that she can't tell me about. I mean let's be honest, my hair looks Justin Bieber stuck his finger in a light socket.

Okay, after having got on with my life, I've only thought about these results a few times a day.  I'm not wasting much time crossing the bridge before I have to.  I joke, but for the most part, I have every reason to believe I will get the all clear results I so badly wanted to hear from the tech.

I'll post an update once I get the results.

UPDATE: FUCK Dang it, not the answer I was looking for.