This is my celebratory falafel burger. My bone scan came back clear. Remember a couple of weeks ago I was radioactive and couldn’t cuddle Lilah? Well that was a scan to check that the cancer hadn’t escaped the boob, tunnelled under the lymph nodes and made a break for my bones. It hasn’t. I had managed to stay fairly scanxiety-free for the two weeks since the scan but yesterday my tensions started to rise. I googled bone cancer. Noob mistake. Suddenly I was thrust into a huge sliding doors moment where my life could fork dramatically. If the scan was not clear we were in the realm of scary things like ‘bone cement‘, amputation and with secondary cancers we were talking palliative care. Here’s some painkillers, go home and get your affairs in order. I talked about acceptance being so important to coping with what’s happening but without a definite diagnosis, there is no acceptance. I was just in this state of limbo, between worlds. Would my life be one thing or another?
I did manage to get 5 hours sleep which I think is pretty decent for a night contemplating the abyss. Mum came with me to hold my hand and I did some serious deep breathing in the waiting room. When the doctor came to get us she immediately apologised and ushered us off down to a different room than usual. This was my worst fear, that we were be put in the dreaded comfy room once again. That could only mean one thing. Luckily she casually passed by the door to that room and swerved around to another office. I love the uncomfortable chairs of the office rooms. They mean INFORMATION and OFFICIAL COLD FACTS. The soft chairs of the comfy room mean bad, sad news. The doctor started gibbering on about chemo and how it was going and discussing this anti-emitic or that steroid. All I wanted to know was “Am I going to die?” So as calmly as I could manage I asked her for the bone scan results. Reassuringly she fumbled through her computer system in a very un-terminal news-like fashion. When she gave the good news, it was almost an anti-climax as Mum and I couldn’t whoop and holler. The doctor was way too cluelessly unconcerned about it all for us to react that way.
Anyway back to the breast cancer. So the doc copped another feel of my bad boob and declared the lump to be smaller. This was also delightful as I didn’t feel it was changing at all. She seems to think it’s gone down by at least 1cm but she does want me to get an ultrasound to check. Although last time they underestimated the damn thing by 4cm so my faith in their accuracy is limited. We won’t know for sure without an MRI and I REALLY don’t want another of those yet. Today however is about basking in the glow of good news. So come celebrate with me, my friends. We earned it.