The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

September 5, 2020 – Much of our August was spent at the West Cancer Center: blood tests, CT scans, an ultrasound, another CT scan, and, finally, a wonderful needle biopsy. Throw in a couple visits with my oncologist, further lab tests, along with a PET scan, and August was a month I’d like to do without.

Why all the visits? You may recall from my last health update on July 6th (Doctor, Doctor…) that – since early June – my doctors were monitoring a blood mass in and around my right adrenal gland. 

September 3rd sunset: a reminder
to enjoy the beautiful things
life has to offer.

Here’s an excerpt:

Now For Something Completely Different

There was, however, something completely unexpected on the scan results. A fairly large mass – about 2 1/2 inches – on or around my right adrenal gland. The adrenal gland sits on top of each kidney. The radiology oncologist called it a heterogeneous mainly low density mass. Basically, it looks like I had some internal bleeding either in or around my adrenal gland.

Testing, testing…1, 2, 3…testing…

On August 7th I had an ultrasound to determine if there was any tissue with the blood mass surrounding my adrenal gland. The ultrasound did show tiny tissue fragments, so I immediately underwent a needle biopsy utilizing CT scan technology.

A needle biopsy is exactly what it sounds like. An area of skin is deadened and a (somewhat) long needle inserted into your body at the spot to be biopsied. Unfortunately, you remain awake during the entire procedure. It’s painful and weird – the only way to describe it.

Note: The biopsied tissue samples were sent off for detailed genetic evaluation (biomarkers).

A little over a week later, on August 18, 2020, I had a PET scan. Doctors use a PET scan to determine if any cancer – metastatic melanoma, in my case – has spread to other parts of your body, including your lymph nodes.

PET scans utilize a radioactive tracer that is injected into your bloodstream. To be effective, your body must be completely at rest for an hour or more.

Glowing in the Dark

Here’s a brief description of what a PET scan is like:

I shuffled into a cold room with a hard terrazzo floor. In the room’s middle sits a large scanning machine. Plastic. Metal. Intimidating. At this point, I was exhausted. Ready to go home. I hadn’t eaten in over 8 hours, and I’d had no caffeine today. None! It was almost three in the afternoon.

Plus, I had just spent the past hour sitting in a small dark room doing nothing. Nothing. Just sitting, trying to relax, while radioactive isotopes coursed through my body…I think I slept for 15 or 20 minutes while in that little room.

After being strapped down to the hard plastic “bed” of the scanner, I was inserted into the metal and plastic donut hole several times. Many people refer to CT and PET scanners as donut fillers. Another 25 minutes went by before we finished.

Now the hard part

The waiting game began a few weeks ago and will be over soon. At that point, we’ll know the biomarker testing results and the results of my PET scan. Then we’ll know the next direction in my journey.

Thanks, as always, for listening.

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Writer’s Note – I’ll continue to update my blog on a periodic basis. No set schedule. So, I want to thank everyone who continues to stop by and check out my blog. Please leave a comment or message; I’d love to hear from you. 

Doctor Doctor, Gimme the News

July 6, 2020 – I finished the last of my scheduled doctor’s appointment this afternoon – annual physical. Everything was fine according to my internist. I’ve been with this same doctor for perhaps 25 years. He knows as much about my health as I do. After last year’s physical he joked, “You’re the healthiest guy with cancer, who had a heart attack, I’ve ever seen.”

Based on the numbers from this year’s blood tests and urinalysis, I hope that comment remains true.

Appointments, Appointments, Appointments

At least it’s clean.

Because of COVID-19, I waited until June to follow-up with most of my doctors. In the past thirty days, I saw just about everyone: cardiologist, urologist, orthopedist, dermatologist, oncologist (we’ll get to that in a moment), and even the dentist (no cavities!). All of these visits we’re either annual checkups, routine appointments, or quickly scheduled due to an issue that came up. I saw my orthopedist after I over did it with exercise, yard work, and pressure washing the back patio.

Note: The patio’s now clean, but I was in some serious back and muscle pain for about a week.

Metastatic Melanoma
In early June I had my scheduled CT scan and doctor’s appointment at the West Cancer Center. As I mentioned previously (see Status Quo and An Early Christmas Gift), I am now scanned about every six (6) months because my tumors remain stable and (for the most part) unchanged. June’s CT results were pretty much the same. Nothing – in my lungs – has changed.

Now For Something Completely Different
There was, however, something completely unexpected on the scan results. A fairly large mass – about 2 1/2 inches – on or around my right adrenal gland. The adrenal gland sits on top of each kidney. The radiology oncologist called it a heterogeneous mainly low density mass. Basically, it looks like I had some internal bleeding either in or around my adrenal gland.

Between chemotherapy meds, blood thinners (to help keep the stent in my heart working), and everything else I’ve been through, it’s hard to know what caused this mass.

Modern-day Torture Device

You never know what’s
lurking inside.

My oncologist scheduled an MRI to get a better look. If you’ve never had an MRI, it’s very strange and a bit nerve-racking. The MRI machine is claustrophobic and loud. And weird…I swear I could feel the magnetic force going through my midsection. Yuck!

Unfortunately, the MRI didn’t provide any new clues as to what’s going on inside me. The concern is that this blood mass may be hiding a cancerous tumor (or, the mass was caused by a cancerous tumor). The size has not changed, and I’m not in any pain.

At the end of July, I’ll have another CT scan to see if anything’s changed. Then, the doctors and I will figure out what the next steps will be.

Possibly another twist in my melanoma journey. More to come…

Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.) Sorry for any confusion.


Also, please make sure you leave your name or sign-in somewhere in your comment. Thanks.

Writer’s Note – I’ll continue to update my blog on a periodic basis. No set schedule. So, I want to thank everyone who continues to stop by and check out my blog. Please leave a comment or message; I’d love to hear from you.

Someone to Watch Over Me

Week Four
Tuesday, September 17, 2013

After four weeks of treatment, I’m actually feeling pretty good. I saw my doctor last week (on September 11th), and he said that it’s not unusual for patients to tolerate Gleevec  (my oral chemotherapy medicine) with only minimal side effects. Most of my initial side effects have seemed to wane, and I’m hoping that is a good sign. My blood and glucose levels were normal or, at least, in the acceptable range. Now, I will be on this medication for about another thirty days.

On October 9th, I will have a CT scan performed. We will immediately look at the results that day to determine if my tumors have grown or stayed the same. My doctor did tell me that it typically takes 3 to 4 months for tumors to shrink when treated with Gleevec. So, what we’re hoping to see is that my tumors have not changed or grown. I’m glad I have people much smarter than me monitoring my cancer. It’s a blessing to have some many folks “in my corner” as I continue my journey with melanoma, which brings me to today’s thoughts on being watched over.

***

Spending a lot of time at home has been both a blessing and a curse. Luckily, I have not had to endure being at home by myself. I have a shadow – literally – who follows my every move. Nixie, our six-year-old Border Collie has always been my constant companion. Now that I’m home more, it’s a given that I will be continually watched over or “guarded.”

Who’s watching over you?

If you know anything about Border Collies then you know that they are highly intelligent, extremely focused dogs who fixate on their work with the intensity of a sixteen-year-old video game fanatic. These dogs also have boundless energy and a fervor for completing a job that would make any office manager jealous. Prior to last month, Nixie’s “job” was to chase balls and catch Frisbees. As long as Nix – as we call her – was busy then everything was fine. If we didn’t keep her busy, or give her enough exercise, there was “heck to pay.”

Now, her job is to watch over me…at least that’s what she thinks she is supposed to do. Nix is almost always by my side while I’m at home or outside in the yard. When I return home from running errands or from an appointment, she greets me as though I’ve come back from a long journey. I know most dogs are like this, but Nixie’s intensity has seem to grow ever since my diagnosis. Does she sense that something is wrong? Is it true that dogs can tell when their owners are ailing? I don’t know, but I do know that I’ve got a four-legged family member in my corner as I deal with my cancer.

In fact, I would think that everyone would want to have someone or something watching out for them. Whether or not you’re a spiritual person, there’s something comforting knowing that you’re being watched over…even if it’s a sometimes neurotic, always attentive thirty-eight pound fluff-ball.

And the journey continues…..

Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.)  Sorry for any confusion.