I’m on Spring Break this week; so it’s been the perfect opportunity to squeeze in my quarterly blood work and scan. The scan, reviewed by 2 radiologists, was perfect. Clean. NED. My ca125 is now 20.5. That’s still well within normal limits (<35), but it’s a whole 15 points higher than it was 6 months ago. Because of this, coupled with the fact that I’m still having weird aches and pains, I’m having a PET scan tomorrow. An extra trip to Mercy, 15 hours of annoying dietary restrictions, and a shot of radioactive glucose later, I’ll have a 3D image of my innards, which will hopefully tell us the story of what’s going on in there. I’m not that worried. The scan was clean. My ca125 is still WNL. Any tumor big enough to cause me pain would show up on a scan. Inflammation can cause the ca125 to go up. Whatever is causing my discomfort is also probably raising my ca125. It just adds up too well. This isn’t a recurrence. I’m not too worried. I am hungry, though. I wish I could have a snack right now, but I can’t eat again until after my scan tomorrow. Sigh.
I’m not too worried. My bowels, apparently, are, though. I’ve been nervous-pooping all afternoon. One bite of food and boom! My mind is in overdrive. Last night, I had a nightmare. I don’t remember what I dreamed, but I remember startling awake, and feeling scared. Since chemo ended, I barely ever dream. I’m not too worried, though. I’m really not.
I was blow drying my hair, and playing scenarios in my mind. I’m going to the scan alone tomorrow. I won’t have it any other way. If I had a caring partner, I’d welcome them to come. The reality is that I don’t. My Mom isn’t a substitute. She would love to be, but I won’t let her. I’m 40 years old. If I’m going to be dealing with this crap for the rest of my life, I need to figure out how to navigate it. Plus, my family has a way of making everything so.fucking.complicated. I need this to be low-key and drama-free. I’ve come to treasure my normalcy. Hey, all that rhymes! 🙂
I wish we could save time in a bank, the way we save money. I wish that people who wanted to kill themselves could bequeath their extra time to those of us who fight to stay alive. I’m so sick of people bitching and bemoaning the small stuff. I’m sick of people making a big deal out of little medical procedures, like they deserve an award or something, for having outpatient laparoscopic surgery. I’m judgmental. I’m not a perfect person. I wish that more people knew how good they’ve got it. My Aunt is still angry at me, over how it all went down in 2012, when I was sick. I was dying, and she was beating me over the head, for not doing enough to “help” my Mom. I’ve been to enough therapy to understand how crazy she was to do that. I love and admire her, but I feel sorry for her, too.
I never want to lose my hair again. I think I could deal with whatever was thrown at me, if I didn’t have to walk around looking like a cancer patient. I’m 40, but I’m still trying to get my personal life in order. I don’t have a man in my life yet, who will think I’m beautiful no matter what. I want to fall in love again. I think that I will, if this goddamn cancer will stay the fuck away.
But I’m not that worried…I look forward to updating this blog with good news. Will you say a prayer for me, anyway?